#he has told us that rusty was just joking and that he has anxiety and says weird things sometimes

[andichoseyou]

quick question. so my friend group has been having some "drama" these last few weeks and i need an outside view. one of our friends, lets call him Fred has started dating a guy, lets call him Rusty. fred and rusty have been together a while but the rest of the group doesn't really know anything about rusty. one night, we end up at fred's house and rusty is there. that night, rusty says some really nasty and antisemitic things while we're watching a movie, none of us know what to say and we're all hoping that fred will call him out and tell him to stop. rusty continues and says things like "this is making me hate jewish people even more" and called a jewish female character a "dirty jew bitch." that night we also learned from one of our friends in the group that rusty has said "yellow people" when referring to asian people. he has also said the G slur when referring to asian people. we sat down and talked to fred a couple days later to tell him how uncomfortable and disappointed we were. its been almost a month later and fred is still with rusty and keeps deflecting when we ask him about it. saying things like "he says racist things but i dont believe he is racist" and "i am trying to challenge him." i don't think he understands how hurt we all are that he continues to stay with this guy who has said some really fucked up shit. it has gotten to the point where none of us even want to be around fred. i wanna know if anyone thinks we're overreacting or handling this wrong... we have poc in our friend group, and fred is a white/non-jewish man who has never experienced racism and never will. it feels really strange to me that he would bring rusty around knowing he says those fucked up things. we literally have an asian friend in our group who has expressed they cannot be friends with someone who has a boyfriend who is xenophobic. like DUH???? from an outside view, knowing only these details, do you think we should try to continue being friends with someone who is not willing to break up with their racist/antisemitic boyfriend? or is it valid that we're still hung up on the fact that he would even want to be around that guy?

[suneatersupportsquad]

red handed; colby brock

request:  im not sure if you do requests or even any imagines for colby brock anymore but i was wondering if you cold make a exception, so basically the plot is that the reader met colby through kat and since then they hit it off, now their in a secretive relationship the only person who knows is kat but she only knows the reader has a crush on colby. one day everyones hanging out in the same room room and colby is sexting the reader, sams curious to whos hes texting and they find out their dating.

dedication: @whydontweanons​

genre: fluff, subtle smut?

pairing: colby brock x gn!reader

characters: colby brock, sam golbach, katrina stuart, corey scherer, jake webber, kevin langue, brennen taylor, devyn lundy, tara yummy

word count: 1.8k

warnings: alcohol, what would probably be underage drinking, NSFW (barely), sexting (duh), mentions of COVID-19, quarantine

a/n: of course i’ll still write for sam and colby!! it’s just that, since i’m not as active of a follower of them as i used to be, my goal is to write for fandoms that i’m more invested in at the moment. but, honestly, i don’t think i could ever really stop writing for them. i love those boys so much. also this plot made me laugh so hard when i saw it in the best way possible. getting this request honestly made my day, so thank you for that!! anyways, i’m a little rusty, but here we go.

important links: masterlist

find more fics at my new blog @trapboysbunny

You and Colby had known each other for a long time - pretty much since he’d moved to LA with Sam - and you had been involved romantically just as long. You had met him and Sam through Kat on a boring Saturday night when all their friends flaked on coming to a little kickback they were hosting. Trying to be a good friend and cheer the boys up, Katrina had invited you to hopefully kickstart some emotional momentum. Your eyes met Colby’s for the first time and you clicked. Something in your gut had told you that the two of you would end up being close, and it was right. You had hit it off immediately, not taking very long to start laughing at one another’s corny jokes and telling stories over Smirnoff Ice while some random late night show played in the background. From that night on, it was history.

Since then, you two had been practically attached at the hip. If you weren’t sitting on the same room or facetiming, you were definitely texting one another. It became a running joke in your friend group that you two had evolved into a pair of siamese twins, or that being without you gave Colby separation anxiety. The two of you found it even more amusing when you actually began dating, not long after that fateful first night. It amazed the both of you that you were able to hide your relationship so well. No one had a clue. The two of you laughed about it quite often, actually, over late night phone calls and tipsy afternoons spent only with each other. No one knew, and nobody needed to know.

Colby, due to the internet and his fanbase being the way it is, preferred to keep his personal (and especially romantic) relationships more on the private side. His intent wasn’t necessarily to hide his feelings and relationship with you from his friends, but that particular topic of conversation never really came up in your friend group. Everyone had just kind of figured that everyone single would simply date someone when they were ready and tell everybody about it when they felt the time was appropriate. It wasn’t that Colby didn’t want to tell them, he just didn’t see the point in going out of his way to tell all of his friends hey after God knows how long I finally have a partner. He just didn’t want to make a big deal out of your relationship. Knowing his friends, they would definitely make it into some type of big thing, not to mention that Jake would dub the occasion as “cause for celebration” (which was really just an excuse to drink more). So Colby preferred to keep things on the quieter side for you two; neither of you wanted to make your relationship into an object for speculation.

Kat was the only person out of all of your friends to have any knowledge of your feelings for Colby. And thank God for her; if you didn’t have her to gush about Colby to, you probably would have either exploded or died. Or both. And she was there for every single second of it. She loved hearing about your movie nights, your urban exploring adventures, the sweet yet mundane things he would do to make you happy, literally anything. She ate that shit up like a man starved, and you did the same for her and Sam (regardless of the fact that their relationship was public already). You hadn’t told her explicitly about the nature of your relationship with Colby, really just gushed about your ever-growing love for the boy. Unbeknownst to you, she firmly believed that you only had feelings for Colby, clueless to the fact that the two of you had actually been dating for quite a while now. With her “go get ‘em, tiger” comments, along with similar remarks, you assumed that she had some sort of idea about your relationship with Cole, hence why you had never explicitly told her about your secret boyfriend. Kat, being the good friend that she was, never spilled your “secret” feelings to anyone else. Not even her boyfriend.

Eventually, quarantine started up amidst the international COVID-19 pandemic and you had begun practically living with the trap boys. A day without you in the house was enough to prompt concern for the boys, minus Colby who always knew the real reason why you weren’t coming over. This soon became the new normal, you taking a “day off” every few weeks to get tested just in case. At this point, it was almost comical that no one had figured out you two were dating yet.

One particular weekend afternoon, everyone in your friend group was hanging out at the house. You and Colby were sitting on opposite sides of the room, you next to Kat and Colby seated beside Sam. It was particularly warm today seeing as this Saturday landed smack in the middle of the infamous August heat wave, so you had thrown on a tank top and some shorts, nothing to flashy. Colby had dressed similarly, wearing only a muscle tee and a pair of trunks.

You were sat beside Kat, the both of you trying to listen to the story Devyn was telling. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t ignore the way your boyfriend was staring at you from across the room. You looked away from Dev for just a second to shoot him a glare when you realize exactly why he’s looking at you. The speed at which the blood rushes to your face is dizzying, and you drop your head to stare at your lap. Motherfucker- You sigh as you pull your phone out of your pocket. “Quit it with the blowjob eyes asshole,” you type before pressing the blue send button.

You feel his gaze break as his phone vibrates. Trying to ignore him, you refuse to meet his gaze again, putting all of your effort into focusing on Devyn’s story. Seconds later your phone vibrates in your pocket. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the screen reads, and you shake your head.

“Uh huh sure ok.” You pressed send again.

Another few seconds passed and your phone vibrated again. “That shirt looks really good on you.” 

You blushed as you read the message, flustered by the comment. Brows knitting together in confusion, you looked up to find him staring back at you with a dopey grin. You hunched over your phone and sent a message back. “You really think so?”

“Yeah, of course,” Colby replied, a gray typing bubble sitting under the message. “But you know how it would look cuter?”

You cocked your head to the side and typed out your response. “How?”

“On my bedroom floor.” You almost snorted at that, clamping a hand over your mouth to prevent any noise from escaping. Typical. Thankfully no one had been paying enough attention to you to notice that you were distracted.

Colby, on the other hand, wasn’t so lucky. “Give me this, dude,” Sam said, snatching the phone out of Colby’s hand and effectively bringing the conversation on their side of the room to a halt. “You haven’t been listening for like the past 20 minutes, dude. Now let’s see what’s got you so distracted.”

“You don’t need to look at that, Sam, it’s not that important-” The tall brunette sounded slightly panicky as he reached and grappled with Sam for his phone. Sam played around for a little bit before finally reading the screen, eyes widening in amusement.

Upon finishing his reading, Sam lowered the phone and Colby relaxed, already knowing that he was caught. “So who’s ‘angelcakes,’ huh Colbert?” Sam prodded teasingly.

Colby blushed ever so slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. “They’re just a friend-”

“Which friend, huh?” Sam continued his teasing, growing louder and louder with every response until all eyes were on the two boys.

Colby shrugged, trying to be nonchalant but looking more stressed than ever in actuality. “Just a friend.”

“What do you say we call this friend, huh boys?” Sam suggested.

Kevin nodded, agreeing. “I think we definitely should.” Brennen also nodded when Sam looked to him for approval, essentially finalizing the decision.

“Okay then, let’s do this thing!” Sam yelled, earning cheers from all the other curious folks in the room. The blonde boy pressed call and Colby simply held his face in his hands.

You jumped when your phone rang, honestly having forgotten that oh shit, I’m angelcakes. Everyone turned to look at you curiously, Colby even peeking through his fingers. You didn’t even pick up the device, already knowing whose name would be lighting up the screen. “You gonna pick that up or something?” Corey asked awkwardly.

You shook your head, leaving your phone face down in its spot beside your thigh. “No, it’s probably not important anyways.”

A beat of heavy silence passed before Tara spoke. “Gee, they sure aren’t giving up. Maybe you should answer it.”

“Nah, I’m sure it’s just-”

“Yeah, you should answer the phone, Y/N,” Jake agreed, the pieces seeming to click in his head.

You sighed, burning bright red to the tips of your ears. “Okay okay, fine.” You stood and clicked the answer button. “Hello?”

And there it was, your voice echoing from Colby’s phone. The room erupted in cheers of disbelief, the boys pouncing on Colby and the girls slapping you in playful excitement. “I knew there was something going on between you two!! There’s no way there couldn’t have been -- I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” Kat squealed, smushing you in a hug.

The rest of the girls echoed the sentiment, a chorus of ‘same’s and ‘I can’t believe you’s. It took a while for everyone to calm down but, once everyone settled, you and Cole managed to get some alone time. The two of you escaped out back, the less than mediocre breeze cooling the sweat that slicked your skin. You held each other, almost as though you were about to start slow dancing. “Damn, caught red handed, huh?”

You laughed breathily, leaning your forehead against his shoulder. “It was only a matter of time, ya know?”

“I know,” he agreed, cheek pressing against your hair. “I’m glad we don’t have to be weird around them anymore.”

“Me too,” you hummed.

Colby pulled away a little bit, just enough for him to look you in the eyes, your arms still around his neck. “Hey.”

You giggled, confused. “Hey.”

“I love you.”

You smiled your confirmation, eyes twinkling under the cheap backyard lights. “I love you.”

.x

[hazel-light]

Chapter Word Count: ~7,400

Total Fic Word Count: ~30,000

Genre: (Wedding) Fake Dating, Friends to Lovers, lots of bed sharing and every self indulgent fluffy trope possible.

Warnings: None? Lots of fluff? Occasional cussing? Some suggestive themes, moments, and jokes I guess. No smut or anything!

Disclaimer: I am not Daniel Sharman, and I do not pretend to know how he would act, speak, etc. This is fiction okay, there’s a lot of creative license, and potential to be OOC. Ricky isn’t mentioned because I started writing this before we knew he existed, so apologies for that. Also, if you’re DShar himself, please do us both a favor and don’t read this, okay???? Same if you know him 🙈

Title taken from the song Yellow Lights by Harry Hudson which suits this story quite a bit!

A/N: You thought I'd skip all the possibilities and tropes that come with the holidays?! Of course not. This is the final part to Yellow Lights. Thank you all for making my return to writing and posting so wonderful. I am so, so, grateful. I hope the ending lives up to your expectations. <3

The next month and a half passes by uneventfully. I try not to spend all of my time thinking about how great Rachel's wedding was, and equally try to ignore the wistful feeling Henry’s wedding left me with. Having Daniel be my fake boyfriend in front of my family showed me everything that I’d ever wanted; someone who fit in seamlessly, who loved me for me, with the perfect balance of romance and friendship. Whatever crush I had successfully buried when Daniel and I first met is now achingly hard to avoid. I curse my active imagination and optimism for letting me indulge in the moments of pretend, leaning too comfortably into our façade.

As a result, I don’t talk to Daniel much. He is busy finishing filming his project in London, and I try to focus on my life in LA. I’ve become paranoid that every text I send him is one too many, too annoying, or too bothersome. I figure I can reassess things when Daniel comes home from filming, and try to find my footing in our friendship again.

This seems like a solid plan until I’m on Zoom with my family for Thanksgiving. Since I’ve already flown back once this year for the wedding, and I’m planning to fly back again next month for Christmas, staying put for Thanksgiving was the economical choice. The call is mostly uneventful until the subject of Daniel comes up.

“Where’s that boy?” Aunt Judith crows from her spot at the dining table.

“Hmm?” I ask.

“She means Daniel.” Ryan rolls his eyes, bringing the iPad closer to her.

“Oh! Right.” I try to recover. “He’s still away filming his new project, actually, but I was able to fly out to see him at the end of September for another wedding, actually.”

Aunt Judith frowns. “That’s a long time to not see someone that handsome—” I start to laugh, “Are you sure he’s not cheating on you?”

Oh shit. It’s in this moment that I realize Daniel and I had never “broken up” as far as my family knows. I hear the rest of my family start sputtering in the background.

“Aunt Judith— you can’t just—”

“That’s awful, I—”

“It is kind of a long time, huh?—”

I try to keep a straight face. “Guys! It’s okay. He’s an actor, it comes with the territory. I expected this.”

“So you aren’t sure that he’s not cheating on you?” Ryan frowns.

“That isn’t what I meant, Ry. Daniel and I are fine. We’re really good, actually.”

“Well I certainly hope you’ll be bringing him home for Christmas then.” Aunt Judith huffs.

“It would be nice to see him,” Rachel speaks up for the first time, and her husband Nick nods. “I didn’t get to talk to him a whole lot at the wedding.”

I clear my throat, my mind racing. “You know, we haven’t actually talked about what we’re doing for Christmas yet; I’ll have to see what he’s doing— if he’s going to spend it with his family.”

“But you’re still coming home,” Ryan states.

“Yes, I am still coming home, no matter what.”

Ryan and Rachel’s mom, my auntie Kim speaks up. “I think it’s pretty common for a boyfriend to defer to his girlfriend’s family for the holidays. I mean, Ryan splits the day with Katharine of course, but Nick always came here with Rachel.”

“I hear you, Auntie Kim, but Daniel never gets to see his family so I’m not sure— all I’m saying is I’m not sure. He may very well come, and I will let you all know as soon as I know.” I smile tersely.

“Well hurry up, and find out,” Auntie Kim chastises. “Christmas is only a month away.”

When I hang up with them, it’s 7pm and I’m feeling antsy. How could I have forgotten that my entire family still thought Daniel and I were together? I’m not sure how to get out of this one. Tired of panicking alone in my head, I pick up my phone and dial Daniel before I can talk myself out of it. It rings and rings, and my anxiety that he won’t answer grows with each tone.

Eventually I hear rustling on the other line.

“Lauren?” Daniel’s voice crackles through the phone.

“Hi.”

“Are you alright?”

“What? Uh— yeah, I just needed to talk to you about something—” I glance at the time on my phone. “Oh god, no. What time is it there? I’m so sorry— I didn’t even stop to think about the time difference, I—”

I hear him suppress a yawn. “Lauren. It must be pretty important if you’re calling me AND rambling like this.”

“No, no, it can wait, I’m sorry— uh, go back to bed. I’m sorry I woke you up.”

“Lauren,” he stops me softly and firmly. “Stop apologizing. What’s going on?”

I sit quietly, feeling like an absolute idiot.

“Lauren, come on. You can tell me.”

“I— we… we never broke up?”

He laughs. “Sorry, what?”

“We never broke up.”

“Am I still asleep, is this a dream?”

“My family still thinks we’re together and they asked me if you’re coming home for Christmas.”

We’re both quiet for a moment.

“Oh.” is all he says.

“I talked to them for Thanksgiving, and they were asking about you. I realized too late that they thought we were still together— because I never told them we broke up. I didn’t think it through this far.”

“Right, I didn’t either.”

My phone starts ringing, telling me Daniel’s trying to FaceTime me.

I accept, and I’m faced with a dark screen.

“Why are we FaceTiming?”

I hear a lamp click on and suddenly Daniel’s face is illuminated as he lays in bed, lines from his pillow still on his face.

“Figured we should at least be able to see each other if you’re going to break up with me in the middle of the night,” he teases.

I shake my head. “Not funny, this is serious, D.”

“I know, I know.”

“If I break up with you, they’re going to yell at me and tell me I’m a stupid idiot.”

Daniel laughs.

“And if you break up with me they’re going to hate you, which means they’ll hate that we managed to ‘stay friends.’ And if it’s mutual…..” I shake my head, thinking. “They’ll think we were lying.”

“Which we were.”

I sigh, “Which we were.”

“So,” Daniel pulls his blanket up higher. “What are our options here?”

“I don’t know, that’s why I called you.”

I watch him stare off into space and reminisce about when I got to see this sleepy Daniel firsthand in Cape Cod.

“I could come for Christmas…” he trails off and I frown.

“That seems like asking a lot. You’ve already given up a lot of your free time this year for me.”

He shrugs into his pillow. “Do you not want me to come for Christmas?”

I pause. “I mean, that isn’t really the issue here. You have to be tired of being in love with me by now.”

He laughs loudly — a stark contrast to the quiet of his room. “Yes, being in love with you is very exhausting.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I’m kidding. Being in love with you is not exhausting. At all.”

I roll my eyes and say nothing. “I don’t think I can bear to break your family’s hearts at Christmas of all times.”

“Man of the year.” I drawl. “What are you supposed to be doing for Christmas? Going home?”

“No, usually I travel somewhere, but I hadn't decided yet.”

I hum in response.

“Kind of leaning towards traveling to Massachusetts now, if I’m honest.”

I look at him incredulously, only to see a playful grin on his face, but I know he’s serious.

“I’m not going to stop you if you really want to come. But I—” I swallow. “Eventually we’re going to need to plan for whatever happens after Christmas.”

He nods. “I know, we will. Let’s just enjoy Christmas together, first.”

I smile. “Okay. We can enjoy it. Together.”

He clears his throat. “I hope I’m not too rusty at this boyfriend performance, it’s been a few months.”

“Daniel Sharman has performance issues… I hope that doesn’t get out to the press.”

His eyes flash. “Bold, for you.”

I shrug. “You walked into that one, baby.”

“Well, you’re lucky you’re cute, darling.”

We look at each other for a moment, and I hope my eyes don’t give away how fond I am for this man who is willing to commit to fake-loving me, and putting up with my family, and who is setting the bar way too high for any actual real relationship I could hope for.

So much for reburying my feelings.

I break eye contact first. “I’ll let you get back to sleep. Sorry again for waking you up.”

“Do Not Disturb doesn’t apply to you, Lauren. Call any time.”

I smile softly. “Sweet dreams, I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

—-

I’m standing in the Boston Logan airport waiting for international arrivals; specifically Daniel’s flight from London. According to the board, his flight landed 15 minutes ago, so he should be coming to the lobby any time now. I bounce on my feet, simultaneously eager and nervous to see Daniel for the first time since parting ways after Henry and Claire’s wedding.

Eventually I see the hat and sunglasses I recognize from a selfie he sent me earlier, and I can feel my heart race. I begin walking towards him, and feel my pace quicken as I get closer. Eventually he sees me too and he’s grinning at me with his signature toothy smile that I missed so much.

When we come into contact I don’t know what the appropriate response is, so I simply grin up at him.

“Hi,” I breathe.

“Hi,” he smiles back, and before I know it he’s closer than he was before and he’s ducking down to kiss me.

It surprises me but I respond quickly, leaning up to meet him.

When it’s over he pulls back just enough to nuzzle his nose with mine.

“Missed you,” he says softly.

“Missed you most.” I smile.

He stands up straight, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder, threading his other hand through mine.

I can’t see his eyes, but I assume he must be looking around when he speaks.

“Oh, are you by yourself?”

The question catches me off guard.

“Yeah— well, Ryan’s in the car, circling so he wouldn’t have to pay for parking,” I roll my eyes.

He nods, “Sorry, then—“ he makes an inconclusive gesture. “Suppose I didn’t need to kiss you quite yet.”

My stomach drops and I smile tightly, “That’s okay— better safe than sorry. I get it.”

He tugs on my hand pulling me into a hug.

“I did miss you, though.”

“And I still missed you most.” I tease.

Daniel shakes his head, but doesn’t argue, pulling back from me and reaching for his suitcase with his freehand.

“Let’s get this show on the road.”

—-

I bring Daniel upstairs to show him around, and so he can put his suitcase in my room.

“Welcome to my childhood bedroom,” I announce, opening the door and leading Daniel inside.

“Wow, where little Lauren grew up,” Daniel teases looking around. When I first arrived home yesterday, I was quick to tidy up, and hide anything that was too embarrassing, but my room is more or less the exact same as I had left it when I was 18 and moving to college.

I nod. “Yes, many secrets to my backstory can be discovered in here.”

Daniel laughs.

Ryan appears in my doorway leaning against the doorframe.

“Just so you know, Daniel, my bedroom is on the other side of this wall,” he nods to his right. “I can hear everything that happens in here. The walls are thin.”

I frown, blushing, “Ew, Ryan.”

Daniel just laughs and smirks, “Got it, bro.”

I look at him incredulously, “Don’t encourage him.”

The two share a look and shrug, seemingly equally enjoying my discomfort.

“Dinner’s ready!” Auntie Kim calls up to us.

I use that as my cue, brushing past both of them to go downstairs, leaving their laughter behind me.

—-

After Christmas Eve dinner, Katharine stops by and the four of us decide to watch the classic, How the Grinch Stole Christmas. I’m the last to arrive in the living room, and when I enter I immediately notice that Ryan is cuddled up with Katharine, and sprawled out over the entire couch, leaving Daniel sitting in the only other seat— the armchair.

I narrow my eyes at them, “Are you guys for real?”

Ryan looks at us and hums innocently, “What?”

“You took the entire couch.”

I see Katharine bite her lip in amusement, as Ryan shrugs.

“I assumed you guys would cuddle anyway. Can you not share the armchair?”

Daniel intervenes, “Of course we can. C’mon Laur.”

He pats his lap. I hesitate briefly before nestling into his lap, tucking my head into his neck.

“Am I crushing you?” I whisper.

“Not at all, you’re keeping me warm.”

I huff a laugh as he puts the blanket over us and Ryan starts the movie. The steady rise and fall of his chest brings me a sense of peace and I have to try not to fall asleep, especially when his fingers gently caress my arm and my leg where he’s holding me to him. I exhale, turning further into his neck and nuzzling into him.

“Tickles,” he breathes, just shy of a whisper.

“You smell good,” I tell him, letting my eyes close.

His chuckle reverberates through his body. “Thanks, darling.”

I feel my eyes shut and sleep take over. I start to come to when I hear the ending song come on, and it drifts into whatever dream I’m having.

“She asleep?” I hear Ryan ask.

“Think so,” Daniel answers.

“You need help waking her up?”

“No, I’ve got it, thanks though. Nice seeing you, Katharine.”

I hear footsteps retreat and feel a series of kisses pressed to my shoulder, as Daniel’s long fingers brush hair away from my face.

“Time to wake up, pretty girl. You can go back to sleep once we’re in your bed.”

I shake my head no, clinging to him tighter.

“Like this bed.” I murmur drowsily.

He laughs softly. “Promise we can cuddle there too.”

“Promise?” I ask, peeking one eye open.

“I promise,” he confirms, pressing one more kiss to my shoulder.

I lift my head to look at him, rubbing my eyes.

“There she is,” he smiles gently at me.

I smile back sleepily, the words coming out before I fully think them through.

“Wanna know a secret?”

“Tell me.”

I swallow, letting my gaze flicker down to his mouth for just a moment. “I like cuddling with you.”

“You do, huh?”

I nod.

“Well the feeling’s mutual. Let’s go upstairs and brush our teeth so we can cuddle more in your bed.”

“Okay,” I relent, getting off of him. He stands up after me and I instinctively lace my fingers with his, leading us back upstairs. When we’re brushed and changed, we settle ourselves in bed and I claim my spot tucked into his neck again.

“Sweet dreams,” he says, kissing the top of my head. I echo the sentiment and gently kiss the spot on his neck I’m closest to. His arms tighten around me and I’m falling asleep again.

—-

For once, I wake up before Daniel. He looks peaceful as he sleeps on his stomach, his arm across my waist, face half smushed into the pillow. I turn my head to look at the clock to see it’s about 9:30 and know the others will be waking up soon. I turn back to Daniel and card my fingers gently through his hair. Eventually his breathing changes and his eyes flutter open, still clouded with sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” I whisper, our faces just inches apart.

He pulls himself closer to me, nuzzling into my side and closing his eyes again. “Merry Christmas.”

It’s quiet for a moment before he speaks again, voice raspy with sleep. “Is everyone else awake?”

“No, I don’t think so. I haven’t heard anyone up and around… they might be soon. Usually we kind of wander downstairs around 10, and it’s just past 9:30.”

He hums in response.

“You can go back to sleep for a little while if you want,” I offer, still running my fingers through his hair. “I’ll wake you when it’s time to go downstairs.”

I start to think he’s drifted off to sleep again when he opens his eyes and looks at me. “No, I can get up. I want to give you your present.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “I told you not to get me anything; you coming here like this with me— twice— is more than enough.”

He rolls his eyes, detaching himself from me and rolling out of bed. “And look like the asshole who didn’t get his girlfriend anything for Christmas? Not a chance.”

I sit up. “We could’ve lied about it—”

“Lauren,” Daniel looks back at me exasperatedly, leaning over his suitcase. “It’s Christmas. Please just open your present.”

He pulls out a neatly wrapped, thin rectangle and places it in my lap, sitting next to me on the bed.

“Merry Christmas, Laur.”

I carefully unwrap the package to reveal a framed art print, with a circle of stars in the middle; underneath it says “The Night Everything Changed” with the coordinates of what I assume to be Los Angeles. I look up to him with soft eyes, and he gives a one shouldered shrug.

“Saw an ad for this online— where you can get the night sky documented of any night you want, anywhere you want. I thought it would be nice to commemorate this past year, for us…” he trails off, and I hug the frame to my chest.

“Daniel, I love it— Really, really love it. It’s so thoughtful.” I reach out and thread our fingers together. “I’m going to hang this in my room. I want it somewhere I see every day.”

He smiles and squeezes my hand. “I’m glad you like it. I actually wanted to talk to you about something— in relation to this. I—”

We’re interrupted by a light knocking on the door, and we both turn.

“Are you guys awake?” Ryan’s voice calls.

“Yeah, we’ll be out in a sec!” I answer.

I turn back to Daniel who squeezes my hand and moves to get up, but I pull him back.

“They can wait; this is special. I want to hear what you have to say.” I smile at him warmly, but he shakes his head, lifting the back of my hand to kiss it.

“It’s alright, I’d rather wait and tell you when we have more time to talk.”

I frown. “Promise me you won’t forget?”

He laughs. “Trust me, I won’t forget.”

He moves to stand, pulling me up with him to go downstairs, but I stop him, wrapping my arms around him tightly.

“Thank you, D. It means a lot to me.”

He returns my embrace, placing a kiss to the top of my head.

When we pull apart, I take his hand again. “Time for Christmas. Your present is under the tree, by the way.”

Daniel laughs. “A present double-standard.”

I shake my head and lead him out of the room.

—-

I think we’re done with presents when Ryan surprises me, coming over to Daniel and I on the loveseat.

“This is for both of you, kind of.” He hands me a thin, narrow gift.

Daniel looks up, surprised. “Thanks, man. That was thoughtful of you.”

He looks at me, silently asking, did you know about this?, and I shake my head no.

I unwrap the package to find a small frame, with a one hundred dollar bill matted in the middle. I look at Ryan and furrow my eyebrows.

“It's the hundred bucks I said I’d give you if you brought a real date to Rachel’s wedding. Seeing as the same guy is here for Christmas I figured you earned it. Thought I’d frame it— but you can take it out and spend it on a date or something, I don’t care.”

Auntie Kim squints. “Sorry, you told her what?”

I roll my eyes and try to avoid the way my stomach sinks at the reminder of how this all started.

I feel Daniel’s hand on my knee. “Clever, Ryan.”

I look over at him to see him flashing his polite interview smile, and I instantly know he knows exactly what I’m feeling.

Auntie Kim stands and stretches. “I don’t get it, but I’m going to go start breakfast. Your sister and Nick are picking up Judith soon and then they’re coming over. Katharine isn’t coming until dinner, right, Ryan?”

As Ryan confirms, she walks out of the room. Ryan turns back to us. “Mind if I shower first?”

I shake my head no, still lost in my thoughts, and I hear Daniel tell him to go ahead.

We’re left alone and I feel Daniel’s thumb brushing my knee.

“Thank you for my presents.”

“You’re welcome— I’m glad you like them; they don’t beat your present for me though.”

He rolls his eyes and we sit for a moment, the framed hundred dollar bill still in my hands.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

I look at him and shake my head. “I don’t know. Just an odd reminder of how this started, and that it’s going to have to end soon, I guess.”

Daniel frowns. “We haven’t really gotten to talk about that. Why don’t we table that for later— we still have a nice day ahead of us. Those are problems for tomorrow.”

I nod and smile at him, and he pulls me in to kiss my temple, and I hear the click of an iPhone camera. I look up to see Auntie Kim in the doorway.

“Sorry, I just wanted to tell you that the coffee’s on. It was too cute not to capture.”

Daniel stands up, offering me his hand. “Make sure you send me a copy. I’ll have to add it to my collection.”

I chuckle as I stand. “Let me guess; the album is called ‘Cute and Shit.’”

He grins. “How’d you know?”

—-

Christmas flies by. It’s filled with good food, wine, and everyone I love. It’s hours after dinner, and Auntie Kim has already driven Aunt Judith home before going to bed herself.

Ryan, Katharine, Daniel, and I are all still seated around the dining room table playing some kind of team card game, and everyone’s faces are red from laughter and wine.

I can’t help but watch Daniel, who is in some kind of hilarious argument with Ryan over some card he pulled. His eyes shine from the light of the chandelier, and his smile is big and bright, taking over his whole face.

It hits me in this moment that I’ve surpassed unlabeled romantic feelings; I am truly in love with this man. The realization consumes me until Katharine knocks her shoulder into mine giggling.

“Can you believe we love these idiots?”

“Sometimes it’s a hard pill to swallow,” I tease, giggling, catching Daniel’s eye mid-argument. He winks at me and I feel my already red cheeks flush even deeper.

“You two are so cute,” Katharine continues, watching our interaction. She lowers her voice, whispering to me behind her wine glass. “I was kind of worried that when you got a boyfriend he wouldn’t mesh well with our dynamic, ya know? But it kind of feels like Daniel’s always been here.”

Her words vocalize the thoughts that have been ringing in my head all day. “I know what you mean.”

Katharine dramatically clears her throat. “Are you two done? Is it our turn yet?”

—-

We part ways from Ryan and Katharine in the hallway, giggling and shushing each other in the wee hours of the morning. I shut my door behind me and waggle my eyebrows at Daniel.

“Uh oh, there’s trouble,” he teases. “Planning to seduce me?”

I shrug exaggeratedly and he laughs before looking around. “Fuck, where are my sweatpants?”

I giggle. “They’re literally right behind you on the chair.”

“Oh, thanks.” He grabs them before looking at me. “Can I change in here tonight?”

I flush. “Yeah, sure.”

After sharing a room together all this time, this is the first time we’ve changed in front of each other and the thought makes my skin tingle. I make my way over to my dresser, pulling out my own sleep shorts and t-shirt. I wiggle out of my pants and pull on my shorts, glancing over my shoulder to see Daniel, shirtless, adjusting his sweatpants on his hips. My throat runs dry, and I turn around to pull my own shirt over my head, reaching behind me to unclip my bra once it’s on. I bundle my discarded clothes in my hand, walking over to toss them in the hamper. I turn around to find Daniel already looking at me. He’s still shirtless and my eyes drift to his defined chest. He looks down as if noticing for the first time.

“It’s really, uh, hot in here.” He speaks again. “Would it bother you if I slept shirtless?”

I shake my head, mentally screaming. “No, it is warm,” I agree, reaching up to put my hair in a bun on top of my head.

He watches me intently, and I laugh self consciously. “What?”

“Nothing. Just thinking about how this was the best Christmas I’ve had in a while.”

My face lights up. “Really?”

“Yeah.” I see his grin quirk up, and know something else is coming. “I’d say it was almost perfect.”

“Oh?” I question, finishing my bun. “Go on.”

“We fit in a lot of classic traditions today, but we missed one that I’m quite fond of.”

I look at him, trying to think of what it could be, as he takes a step closer to me.

“There wasn’t any mistletoe.”

I swallow. “There wasn’t.” I pause, my mind racing. Before I can fully think it through I find myself offering, “But we could pretend?”

“Hmm?” He murmurs, taking a step closer to me so he’s right in front of me now. I know he’s giving me a chance to take it back, or make a joke; I’m nervous, but I don’t want to take it back. I just really want to kiss him.

“I’d really like it if you had a perfect Christmas.”

“And you?” He questions softly. “What would make it a perfect Christmas for you?”

Instead of answering him, I reach up on my tiptoes to kiss him for a moment, pulling back to look him in the eyes. His eyes meet mine in some unspoken understanding, and then he’s dipping down to kiss me again.

He kisses me softly, delicately, like all the kisses at the wedding. He pulls back briefly to look at me, as if he still expects me to change my mind. I kiss him again, wanting there to be no doubt in his mind, and he kisses me back with purpose and passion, and I’m caught off guard by the weight of it. I gasp, and Daniel uses this opportunity to deepen the kiss, pulling me closer. It reminds me of our very first kiss back on his couch. My arms move around his neck, pulling our bodies flush together.

Daniel pulls away first, but barely, breathing hard, kissing down from my jaw to my neck.

This is definitely new territory for us.

I move my hands to his hair, and he groans at the feeling. I can’t help myself as I sigh breathlessly, a shiver running down my back. He grins against my neck, his teeth scraping at my skin and I moan softly.

“Wait,” I say breathlessly, a thought somehow flitting through my mind. “Earlier, didn’t you say there was something else I should know about my present?”

“I can tell you tomorrow,” he murmurs into my neck between kisses. “It’s time for bed.” He tugs me down onto the bed so I’m underneath him, resuming his kisses on my neck.

“This doesn't seem like going to sleep to me,” I tease.

“It is, shhhh, you’re dreaming.”

“That I’d believe,” I laugh, and Daniel smirks, moving so we're eye to eye again.

“Dream about me often?”

“Shhh.” I pull him closer, turning his words back on him. “You’re dreaming, go back to bed.”

“Happily,” he murmurs, kissing me again.

I bring my hands down to his bare shoulders, feeling his warm, toned skin against my fingertips. I gently drag my nails down his chest to his stomach, and I feel his muscles clench at my touch. I can’t help but smirk to myself as he pulls away to rest his forehead on my shoulder, letting out a shuddering breath. I bring my nails around his back, tracing up his taut muscles and across his shoulder blades.

I feel one of his hands come down, pushing my shirt up, his mouth pressing hot kisses to my abdomen. His nose takes over pushing my shirt up, exploring every new inch revealed with his mouth, his hand now running over my thigh, fingers squeezing occasionally, slowly climbing higher. As his hand reaches the bottom of my shorts, he lightly tugs at the fabric. He pauses, his blue eyes tentatively peering up at me.

“Can I…?” He looks nervous, like I’ll reject him. As if I have ever rejected him, or could ever manage to deny him. I’m not even entirely sure what he’s asking but I find myself nodding quickly. As he goes to tug my shorts down we hear a bang on the wall we share with Ryan followed by a crash, a “Shhhh” and a “Shit.”

We both startle and look over toward the wall, before looking back at each other and laughing softly.

“Ugh, I don’t want to know,” I say, shaking my head.

“You probably, definitely don’t.” He smiles at me before pulling his hand off my shorts, and my shirt back down, letting his fingers trace along the waistband of my shorts before he clears his throat. “We should, uh, get some sleep.”

I blink at the abrupt change in mood before nodding awkwardly. “Okay, sure.”

He rolls off of me, and I reach over to shut the lamp off. I’m hesitant to cuddle up to him, unsure if what just happened changed something between us, but I’m relieved when I feel his arm wrap around me the way it always does. Neither of us say anything, and I try not to think about the last few minutes, the firmness of his body behind mine, or the way my body’s buzzing— closing my eyes to try and get some rest.

—-

The next two days with my family go pretty much the same way as Christmas did. Daniel gets on swimmingly with everyone, and my heart aches every time I realize that once the holidays are over, our charade is going to come to an end—a permanent end— this time. I try to ignore that thought and enjoy my time, basking in the coupley moments in front of my family, and leaning into every touch we share.

I never get a chance to ask about my Christmas present; the time never feels right, and Daniel doesn’t bring it up either. Nothing happens between us like Christmas night; when bedtime rolls around we change in the bathroom and go straight to bed. We cuddle, but there’s no after-dark kisses or wandering hands. I wonder if Daniel feels as self-conscious about that night as I do; if he does, he doesn’t show it.

—-

We’re in my room packing to go back to LA in an effort to try to beat the inevitable New Year’s rush at the airport.

“I need to find something to wrap this in so it doesn’t break in my luggage,” I frown, holding up Daniel’s present. “It’s my new prized possession— nothing can happen to it.”

Daniel looks over and laughs. “Want me to wrap it in my sweatpants? That's what I did on the way here.”

“Okay, thank you.” I pad across the floor and pass him the frame, our fingers brushing in the process.

“Of course.” His lips quirk up as he carefully arranges the frame in his suitcase.

A moment passes, and I wonder if now is a good time to ask about my present .

“Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask—“

“Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask you—“

We both stop mid-sentence and Daniel laughs, “Sorry what were you saying?”

I shake my head, courage gone. “No— sorry, go ahead.”

He looks at me curiously but continues, “Henry texted me; he and Claire invited us to their New Year’s Eve party. They’re having it in LA this year.”

I quirk an eyebrow. “Us? They want me to go?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, Claire apparently requested your presence specifically.”

“Oh, that’s nice of her. I usually stay in for New Year’s.”

“It could be fun— if you aren’t sick of me yet,” Daniel teases.

“Ha!" I laugh, "If you aren’t sick of me yet, more like.” I shake my head. “And don’t mind sharing your friends with me.”

“They’re basically your friends now, too,” he argues.

“I’m not sure one wedding constitutes that, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“You should come.”

I stop and look at him.

“I’ll call a car and pick you up on the way.”

When I hesitate, he softens his voice. “Please come.”

I swallow, “Okay.”

I’m not a big party person, but I also know I don’t have it in my heart to deny him, especially after everything he’s done for me.

He grins. “Really?”

I nod. “Yeah, I’ll go.”

“Cool, I’ll, uh, let them know we’re coming.”

I bite my lip to suppress my smile and start planning my outfit in my head.

—-

When we arrive at Claire and Henry’s house on New Year’s Eve, I try not to gawk at the size. It’s massive and sits high on one of the tallest hills in LA, away from the noise of the city.

The first person to spot us as we walk in is, unfortunately, Eleanor. I’d hoped she was in London, and away from us, but alas.

“Daniel!” she squeals, throwing her arms around him. “I was so hoping you’d be here.”

“Hi, El,” he placates her with a strained smile. “You remember Lauren?” He gestures back to me.

“Laura?” she asks, disinterested.

“Lauren,” I correct, forcing myself to smile. “Nice to see you again.”

“Eleanor,” Daniel intervenes. “Could you point us in the direction of Henry and Claire, perhaps?”

She frowns, but quickly covers it up. “They were in the kitchen last I checked— we have just got to catch up later.”

“We will!” He agrees graciously. “Let us get a drink, and I’m sure we'll have plenty of time to talk later.”

Daniel puts a hand on my back, guiding me forward and into another room, which turns out to be the kitchen. He’s immediately drawn into a series of bro hugs and handshakes by Henry and some of his other friends.

“Lauren! I’m so glad you came!” I turn to find Claire by a table of beverages.

“Claire! So nice to see you, thank you for inviting me.”

“Thank you for coming,” she says, pulling me into a quick hug. “I told Daniel he just had to bring you.”

I laugh. “He told me you were quite persistent— I usually have a low key New Year’s at home, but this is a fun change of pace.”

“Can I get you a drink?” She asks, already reaching for a bottle of champagne.

“Sure, thank you.” I catch Daniel’s eye across the room; he’s being clapped on the back and led out of the kitchen. I smile reassuringly, hoping to communicate that I’m fine here. He seems to understand, as he smiles back and nods before turning back to his friends.

Claire giggles, bringing my attention back to her.

“You look at him with such heart eyes, it’s cute.”

I try to keep my face from panicking. “Sorry?” She laughs like my reaction is the funniest thing in the world. “Oh don’t worry, he looks at you just the same, so you’re fine.”

I chuckle nervously. “I think maybe you’ve got the wrong impression—”

She shrugs like we’re talking about something commonplace, like the weather.

“Maybe, it’s possible... but I don’t think so. Now come! There’s some other girls I’d love for you to meet.”

—-

I spend a good portion of the night talking with Claire and her friends. They’re all very kind to me, but eventually I excuse myself to get some air out on the balcony.

I’m looking up at the sky — it’s dark, dotted with faint stars and a distant passing plane — when I hear somebody come out and join me. As they settle next to me against the railing I immediately know who it is just by how comfortable I feel.

“Whatcha doin out here, LaurLaur? The New Year’s only a few minutes away.”

I grin at him. “Just getting some air and admiring the stars. From up here you can actually see them.”

He hums, looking up with me.

“It reminds me of a certain piece of art a certain someone got me for Christmas.”

He chuckles. “I’m glad you like it so much.”

“It was very thoughtful…. I wonder if any of the stars are in the same places as they were that night.”

“Which night?”

“The night everything changed. Your birthday.”

Daniel leans against the railing facing me, and looks like he’s about to say something before he changes his mind.

Eventually he speaks again. “Things are going to change again soon, right? You said you’re sure about the break up?”

I swallow, scoffing my shoe against the balcony floor.

“I mean, we still need to figure it out, but you can’t keep fake dating me forever. That isn’t fair to you.”

He smiles wistfully. “It’s not like there was anyone else I was trying to date.”

“I’m a lucky girl,” I lament, and Daniel blushes and shakes his head. “It’s a real shame we’re over, though," I jest, trying to lighten the mood. "I’ve never gotten to kiss anyone at midnight.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise. “Never?”

“Nope,” I pop the p and look down at my feet.

“Well.” He clears his throat conspiratorially. “We can agree not to bring our fake relationship into the New Year if you want, but if the kiss starts before midnight, I think we’d get by on a technicality...”

I laugh. “You really want Eleanor to hate me, don’t you?”

He grins cheekily and shakes his head. “Nah, I think I saw her latched onto some other poor bugger inside. We’re in the clear.”

I roll my eyes, looking back up at the sky. I feel his finger trace my arm, gently using my elbow to turn my attention back towards him.

His voice is softer now, “It’s up to you, but there’s no one else I’d rather kiss at midnight.”

I look into his eyes and realize he’s being sincere. My heart’s beating out of my chest. Yes, I want to kiss him, but I want it to mean something. I keep giving in because I know one day this is all going to go away, and I’ll be left with just my memories and heartache.

He must see some hesitance in my eyes, because he’s taking a step back.

“If you don’t want to, it’s fine. Really.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Not trying to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do.”

I shake my head. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just…” I trail off, looking over the balcony, trying to swallow my feelings, which have manifested as anxious tears in my eyes. I feel a tear escape, and I hastily reach up to wipe it away.

“Hey,” Daniel says gently. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” I let out a watery laugh. “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m…”

I feel his steady stare, and I come to terms with the fact that I’ve really gotten myself into a mess that I can’t just smooth over. I’m going to have to tell him.

I take a minute to compose myself, and Daniel stays quiet giving me time to put my words together as I look anywhere but at him.

“I do want to kiss you, D,” I start slowly, trying to keep my voice steady, “but I can’t if it’s just another part of our fake relationship.”

He tugs me closer by hand, gently, so I have no choice but to look at him. I swallow the lump in my throat. “I… know this wasn’t supposed to be real. But it has been, for me.”

He shakes his head and squeezes my hand. “So then stop trying to break up with me.”

I blink at him, and he continues.

“The night everything changed— your star map— I wasn’t referencing the story we told your family about my birthday.” Daniel looks at me long and hard like I’m missing something totally obvious. “It’s actually the stars from a night a month or so later.”

A month or two— Oh. OH.

“The night Ryan FaceTimed me?” I whisper, afraid to be wrong.

He takes my other hand in his, lacing our fingers together. “Listen— Fuck. I’m in love with you, Lauren.” He looks at me so intensely and my head is spinning. “I love you, and I’m in love with you.”

“What?” I ask dumbly.

He licks his lips. “A wise woman once said to me, you don’t confess to ‘kind of like someone’ when you’ve already been friends as long as we have.”

I stare at him for a second, my cheeks burning. “Well your friend sounds pretty smart.” I swallow. “Because I love you, too.”

He laughs, relief flooding his features. He pulls me to his chest, crushing me and squeezing the air out of my lungs. Eventually he pulls back, hands cupping my face.

He grins and shakes his head. “She is smart, so, so smart, but I don’t want to be her friend anymore.”

“What do you mean?” My brows furrow in confusion, worried that somehow I’ve misread this whole interaction, my relief quickly being replaced by panic.

“Well.” He steps forward, keeping our faces incredibly close. “I’m hoping she agrees to be my very real girlfriend— that is, if she doesn’t break up with me first.”

I hear everyone inside start the countdown to midnight. I’m still looking into Daniel’s eyes in disbelief, my hands clinging to the front of his shirt.

When the countdown hits one, I’ve finally found the words I want to say.

“Happy New Year, boyfriend.”

He’s grinning as he kisses me, and I am too. It’s not our most elegant kiss, a mess of teeth and giggles, and whispered “I love you”s. We never stray too far from each other’s lips, kissing again and again like we can’t get enough— and maybe we can’t.

Eventually, we calm down a bit, and when we kiss this time it’s all-consuming, sucking the air out of my lungs. It feels like my love is fizzling to the top of my skin, and I feel it. ‘It’ being every indescribable emotion in our kisses this past year, but this time I know what it is: true, unadulterated, uninhibited love. I am in love with my best friend, who is now my boyfriend, and I don’t care who knows it— as long as he does.

His fingers press bruisingly into my hips before he pulls back just enough to look at me.

“Can we go home?” He whispers sheepishly, brushing some hair out of my face tenderly. “I’m kind of tired of sharing you with the public.”

I huff a laugh. “I know exactly what you mean.” I lean forward to kiss him one last time before pulling back to lace our fingers together, squeezing tightly. “Please— take me home, D.”

I don’t have to tell him twice.

---

tagged: @rogershoe @heyrowena @yunsh-17 @trenko-heart @dylxnshxrmxn

[my-writings-and-musings]

Can I please have a short story of the prompt of the human reader being used as a sheild, and the human has a communicator allowing the bots to trace their signal? And can I please have ratchet, tailgate, cyclones, and drift for this?

I have headcannons for now because I'm spread really thin lately, but I hope you like it! Also I love this prompt in particular because every bot on the ship needs to be told how special and wonderful they are, and what better way to show them than by shouting their praises at an enemy with ample swearing?

Part One: Here!

Part Two: You're Here!

Ratchet

·Your relationship to the medic had allowed some of the restraint he needed for his high stress job to rub off on you, but that's also true of his testiness, so when you reach your breaking point it's quite the sight. The bot that kidnapped you for a ransom learns the loud way just how passionately you adore your grumpy bot when they crack another joke about Ratchet's age and you simply lose it. Held back by your chains, you crack that the bot who kidnapped you couldn't accomplish what Ratchet has if they had a billion years to do so, and what right do they have to insult when they look the way they do? "Call him old all you want, he looks better now than you ever have and ever will!"

·Perhaps it's the fact that the tiny human just insulted their appearance of all things, but the bot is frozen at the communicator, and somehow that makes you angrier. It's clearer to you now than ever before why Ratchet hurls wrenches at the bots that annoy him; nothing would be more satisfying than the "thunk" of a well aimed projectile at this jerk's head. As it stands you're willing to settle for using your words as the only weapons you have. Laughing bitterly, you ask your captor if they're only able to win an argument with bots that can't fight back, which would explain why they need you as a shield AND the corpses they keep as company. The last dig actually gets them moving towards you with a threat, but when they refer to Ratchet as your "rusty old paramour" you get a renewed burst of rage and go off once more.

·"Are you seriously trying to insult Ratchet of all bots?! Do you have any idea what he's capable of?! How many lives he's saved?! What have you accomplished lately, huh?! Besides EXTORTION?!" Feeling a tad bit flushed, it's impossible not to go all out in your tirade, especially because it feels so darn good after suffering in silence for so long. It doesn't hurt that you have so much material to work with either. This raging jerk is living in a corpse filled lair and kidnapping humans to ransom them off for cash, and they're going after one of the greatest medics the Autobots ever had? Cutting them down to size should be classified as doing the universe a favor! If you weren't so incredibly frustrated, and dangling from chains, you might have found this enjoyable.

·"Seriously! Ratchet does more good for the universe in a week than you could do in a lifetime! Plus, you think age is holding him back?! The bot walks right off the battlefield after carving up bad guys like you, only to waltz into the medibay to patch up everyone else, on a daily basis!" Though not impressed, it does appear that your captor is rethinking some things, and perhaps actually realizing they've made a pretty formidable enemy. Had that not been such a flagrantly obvious fact you'd have been satisfied. Instead you just keep going, your intense love for your docbot mingling with your frustration to pour forth in a never-ending stream of loving threats. Only a total power outage cuts off a tangent about how Ratchet's age has not impacted his ability or endurance in "other areas" of your relationship either...

·The darkness is broken by flashing lights and the crackle of energy weapons firing all around, and you just manage to catch some familiar colors flashing through the dark before a very welcome red and white frame swoops in to carefully slice you out of the chains with a laser scalpel. There's just enough time to catch a smile overflowing with emotion before you're taken into gentle hands, and as Ratchet takes you back to the ship you get a glimpse of your very roughed up kidnapper being cuffed by the remaining crew. Your partner takes you straight to the medical bay, fussing over you all the way and asking a thousand questions about your wellbeing, but without any of his usual gruffness as he does so. In fact, he's probably the softest you've ever seen him. The smile never once leaves his face as he insists on getting you fed and rested and to bed where he pulls the covers over you himself.

·In the aftermath he almost seems to melt in your presence, losing most of his grumpy persona every time he's with you no matter how long or difficult a day he's had. Though you obviously don't mind, a couple bots let you know that when you were kidnapped he was the closest to losing control anyone had ever seen him. He'd been shouting and cursing until you had interrupted the latest communication with your captor, at which point he'd been so shocked others had needed to rush in and take advantage of the prolonged signal. Evidently, hearing you defend him as you did had rocked his world in the best possible way. Between working a stressful and often thankless profession, and not ever hearing you shout in such a way before, he's been touched to learn he could be loved by someone who appreciates him as you do. It's enough to keep even the worst of grumpy days from affecting him.

Tailgate

·Truth be told, your greatest concern when you were kidnapped was for your tiny SO, as his propensity for panic could result in some very unpleasant anxiety attacks while he and the others try to rescue you. That worry on his behalf turned to fury when your kidnapper refused to stop mocking the little bot for everything from his size to his age and even for supposedly choosing an organic solely to be taller than someone. It's enough to make you see red, and your limit is quickly reached as a result of the cowardly bullying. Your explosive bout of rage is a scream of frustration that quickly morphs into an unstoppable tirade that pulls no punches. Has this big jerk been planning this for any length of time you ask, because if so, you know a couple of sparklings that could think of more mature insults!

·"Really?! You make fun of bots for being short?! He's also blue, you want to pick on him for something arbitrary, why limit yourself?!" You know it's not the smoothest insult, but darn it all, you can't bring yourself to think straight with all this rage. This bot needs to hear what an absolute creep and bully they are, because seriously who gloats like a real life cartoon villain? When they leave the communicator and try to get in your face you're only further incensed, channeling your tiny partner's courage as you wish beyond the telling of it you could punch the jerk into silence. "If there's gonna be insults, how about I open the floor to some genuine digs? Because your ugly mug is a GOLDMINE of material, okay?! Seriously, does Unicron ask YOU for beauty tips?!"

·There's sputtering in response, which you just take as a go ahead to tear them apart, because at this point you're not sure if you can really stop. After all, record shattering hideous face aside, what does this bot actually have to offer? Tailgate has saved millions! Faced with multiple varieties of death, he took out the guy hellbent on committing species wide genocide, and he doesn't even brag about it! You rub that in your captors face with all the pride you have for your partner spurring you on, hoping that you get a chance to tell Tailgate what a source of inspiration he was in these moments. At the very least you'll have to tell him how your captor froze at the enraged shouting. "Plus, Tailgate has actual friends! People LIKE him, unlike you, who I'm guessing doesn't entertain often based on the corpses you leave lying around!"

·A last ditch attempt to shut you up with a few lame threats just gets you laughing, in part because you can't believe this bot ever thought they were going to succeed at this. "You didn't even bother to check up on who you're making an enemy of, did you? I doubt it, because if you did, you'd know Tailgate has made paperweights out of bots much tougher than you!" Perhaps it's a little macabre, but it's endlessly satisfying to see your captor flinch as you describe what an absolute powerhouse your partner is, particularly how he uses his small size to levy his strength in the most destructive ways possible. It's delightful enough that, as you begin to brag about the benefits of his size relative to yours and his strength working together in more intimate settings, only something like an earthquake stops you.

·Chained as you are, there's no way to get a clear look at your captor as they attempt to flee, but thankfully the ground stills just in time to let you see the cavalry arrive. Lost Light bots pour in to stop the automated defenses from doing much at all, and in a brilliant blue and white blur your kidnapper is punched full to unconsciousness by what might as well have been a meteorite. It's only when said force of nature runs to free you and a tearful blue visor meets your eyes that you recognize Tailgate. The minibot gets you down in a hurry and embraces you in as tight a hug as is safe, talking a mile a minute about his worries and how sorry he is you had to go through all this. After assuring him he doesn't have to beat up your captor any further, you let him carry you back to the ship, getting nuzzled all the while.

·In between far more frequent cuddle sessions from the absolutely enamored Tailgate, you get pulled aside by a couple bots who just want to let you know what an impact your brave speech had on the minibot. While inconsolable during your kidnapping, to the point of swapping between rage and tears every few minutes, he'd been visibly awed once he heard you go off in his defense. That makes you understand everything far more clearly; this bot has been unsure of his self worth for so long, so hearing you face down a much larger foe because you love him so much that their taunting him drove you to frenzy... Knowing he's loved like that changed his entire worldview. You can see it in his visor every time he looks at you, and feel it in every buzzing hug, how grateful he is to have found someone who loves him.

Cyclonus

·Dating a bot capable of triggering enemy surrender with a glance requires a strong will, mostly to endure the endless questions from bots confused as to how you got Cyclonus to ask you out, but today you find yourself facing a whole new level of irritation. Though the bot that kidnapped you is obviously no match for your towering partner, they still mock the big mech through radio like they're some kind of badass, taunting him for debasing himself and growing soft by dating a fleshy. Regardless of how hard Cyclonus has worked to open up to you, hearing the personal jabs makes something within snap and go nuclear, resulting in a war cry your partner would be proud of as you rattle your chains for emphasis.

·"Can you just CAN IT with the insults?! We all know that if this fleshy wasn't here as your shield, you'd be fleeing to the other end of the galaxy!" You waste no time getting right to the heart of what's so infuriating about your captor; their spineless and cowardly nature is so obvious beneath the sneering mockery it makes you literally sick. Seeing how completely they freeze at your jab just proves your point in your mind. What, were they just expecting you to be quiet forever after dealing with THEM for the past few hours? Was the idea of resistance that surprising to them?! The calm maturity you picked up from Cyclonus is matched only by the capacity for righteous fury learned from the same source, and it's the latter that breaks out in glorious fashion.

·"Oh, what, nothing to say? No moronic insults for someone who can actually talk back? Do you need your debate opponents to be silent so you can think of a rebuttal?!" Your almost sarcastic jab actually earns you a demand to be silent, but it's so lacking in authority you can only laugh, despite not feeling any less furious with the situation. It's bad enough to be kidnapped and chained up, but by someone this incompetent? Being a tiny fraction of their size doesn't make you feel any less embarrassed for having been caught by them. It's enough frustration to make you snap again when they start coming in close, especially as another insult is levied at Cyclonus for having chosen a human so unpleasant due to his age and miserable attitude. The words are little more than kerosene on your already burning anger.

·"Do you really think you get to accuse Cyclonus of having a miserable attitude, you inept excuse for a kidnapper?! I'd rather have a conversation with these corpses than you! Not to mention, Cyclonus isn't limited to insulting people whenever he talks, unlike you!" The tirade is perhaps nonsensical with how passionately you begin to praise your partner's command of verse, but you're far too lost in your genuine adoration to care, especially as you begin to relay how wonderfully enticing his singing is to you. Every time your captor tries to command silence you just jump to yet another feature that makes your heart flutter, riding on the high of how incredibly good it feels to rub it all in their flustered face as you go. An attempt at describing his passionate grasp of verse around specific topics is stopped only by a door flying off its hinges in a burst of shattered metal.

·Security forces do nothing as a hulking purple figure enters through the smoke of considerable destruction, and your captor is left paralyzed with fear as they're hefted up by a clawed hand, one you're so relieved to see you can't help calling out their name. Cyclonus is content to toss the criminal to the rest of the crew as they arrive, and actually smiles once he beholds you safe. Freeing you of your bonds, he doesn't drop the chains until they're wrapped about your captor for some poetic justice. After that, you're carried to the nearest private spot on the ship and embraced without hesitation, the giant arms that have held you before almost shaking as he whispers how grateful he is to have you back. For an instant he sheds genuine tears when you hug him in return.

·Though the intensity of his emotions isn't as extreme as when he rescued you going forward, the big bot is far more open about his feelings than ever before, even showing them in full view of others. Surprised but not at all displeased, you are however quite thrown for a loop when someone recounts how incredibly worried he was during your kidnapping, in that he had to be convinced not to go after you alone and gouged some unfortunate furniture as he listened to the communications. Yet the moment you started your tirade, he was shocked to a whole new kind of silence. It's obvious that he hadn't even been able to process it at first, but now is fully overwhelmed and grateful for your love as he never was before. Hearing himself defended by someone he adores more than anything changed his perspective of himself, as well as his outlook on life, for how could he not see the beauty of a universe that had given him you?

Drift

·Sort of an interstellar hippy in his own way, Drift has taught you a lot about remaining calm through meditation, saying that a clear mind and control over anger is key to surviving high stress situations. The same philosophy is what he instructed you to use when others mocked his past, as he claims to be used to it and doesn't want anyone angering you on his behalf. This doesn't stop you from simmering in your current situation, dangling from chains as you might be, and admittedly being kidnapped tends to shorten one's fuse. Perhaps that's why you explode so dramatically when your abductor opens up the communication line just to mock your partner by claiming he hardly should be upset by an organic dying, considering his past, and that this current "relationship" is probably just a redemption stunt. That final mistake sets you off on a legendary tirade.

·"Are you KIDDING me?! You want to talk about STUNTS you wannabe kidnapping loser?! Do you have a projection disorder or something?! Because unlike you, Drift doesn't actually have to PROVE anything!" Never in your life have you wished to be the same height as the bots to this degree, granted though it's only because you want to strangle this jerk purely for the satisfaction of throttling them. Drift has worked to be better, and jabs about his past hurt him deeply, despite what he says. What right does this loser have to use that against him? You're so worked up fear isn't in your catalog of emotions when your captor tries to threaten you with physical harm. All you see is an overhyped grifter who got lucky, and you make that abundantly clear.

·"What, are you going to try threatening me, really? Am I supposed to be afraid of bluster now?!" The sight of a tiny organic growing red in the face with rage actually seems to give the bad bot pause, in part because you're so flushed they have to wonder if humans have a secret explosive ability that you're presently charging up. Admittedly you do feel like you might pop, but that's only because it's impossible to unleash all of your anger in a way that's truly satisfying, and you're left with spouting all the very justified insults that spring to mind. One particular thing that galvanizes your anger; how is this jerk pretending they would stand a chance against Drift?! The bot may be a literal ray of sunshine to you, but you're well aware of what he can do to enemies, and you doubt your kidnapper is in the dark about your paramour's combat prowess.

·"Would you be playing the big tough bot if he were anywhere near here?! Or if you didn't have me as a shield?! Because I doubt you'd last a moment in a one on one!" You shout, your tone of vitriol somewhat humorous considering that the point is a very valid one. While not afraid of Drift in the slightest, you know being on his bad side can be fatal in impressively short order. Perhaps that's why his soft approach to your relationship is even better. It's so special to you that in your current state you can't help but brag aggressively, going on about what a wonderful bot he is and that this loser could never hope to best him in combat or personality. Seeing them rethink it all just adds fuel to your fire, but before you can really get going on how Drift's gentle mannerisms extend to the bedroom you're interrupted by a cacophony of unfathomable origin.

·One of the entrances to the room you're in is sliced open by what you swear has to be ten swords at once, but as soon as it's down and the wielder charges in, you see only two held by a very angry looking Drift. Though accompanied by ample backup, he's an army of one as he reduces the security to pieces and almost dices up your captor. Only some obviously difficult self control lets him immobilize the bot instead. Not wasting time, your partner leaves the bad guy for the others to hurry to your side, his expression beaming with unmatched happiness and relief as he cuts you free and catches you in cupped hands. Shameless kisses and a million questions about whether or not you're hurt are your prelude to an open embrace. Never minding public affection in the past, he's still at a new level all the way back to the ship and in the days that follow.

·It's impossible not to go an hour without a loving nuzzle against your forehead, and whenever you aren't looking Drift is in the corner of your eye with an absolutely lovestruck expression on his sweet face, to the point you halfway imagine there could be hearts in his optics. Rodimus himself tells you in confidence that the unshakable ninjabot was barely able to keep himself steady after your kidnapping, obviously holding back a hurricane of pain and grief within his spark, but that changed in a flash as soon as he heard you. Accustomed to being derided, he'd been unprepared for such a passionate defense from anyone. Hearing you shout his praises had nearly driven him to tears. The pain of his past and the exclusion he faces for it has worn him down, to the point he often believes himself to be irredeemable, but you've made him have hope for himself for the first time in eons. Your love makes him see what he's done right, and from now on, he fully intends to give you and himself more to be proud of every day.

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[archaxwii]

Through Diamond and Flesh

Warnings: This fic involves safe, soft, consensual, non-sexual vore, as well as g/t content.

This is just a silly Skeppy and Bad vore fic, I wrote it like a week ago but what better time to post it than now? Also Skeppy and Bad's relationship con be interpreted as romantic or platonic as you want. This is a little outdated now as of the last lore stream but we’ll just say this takes place in a world where everyone on the SMP makes it out safe and alive. (Also I’m a bit rusty so apologies if the writing or dialogue isn’t great)

—

Skeppy and Bad have been friends for several years now. They had grown very fond of each other in that time. Especially after a...certain incident with an egg and maybe getting possessed and Skeppy nearly dying to said egg...multiple times...However, that was a couple years ago, the egg was gone and the duo had been saved. It had taken a lot of time (and therapy) but they were now closer than ever before.

Sometimes Skeppy thought maybe too close.

Now, Bad and Skeppy had grown up very differently. Skeppy was a diamond golem, he didn't exactly have parents he had a creator, who had basically left him alone to his own devices, which is why he had come to the smp.

Bad, however, was a demon from the Nether. He had actual parents, who had raised him and loved him until he was old enough to decide to move to the Overworld.

They talked a lot about how they'd grown up, and there were a lot of things Skeppy found weird about how Bad's parents raised him, but there was one thing in particular that he kept getting stuck on.

"I still don't understand how you don't think it's weird your parents used to eat you as a kid." Skeppy said, exasperated.

Bad groaned, waving his arms around." I don't get why it weirds you out so much, it's honestly not that big of a deal!" He protested.

" Besides...I don't remember it being that bad." He mumbled, looking away with embarrassment.

Skeppy shook his head." You're such a weirdo." He said giving Bad a light shove.

Bad huffed, immediately shoving him back." Maybe I am, but I honestly don't think it was as bad as you're making it out to be." He paused, and turned to Skeppy with a cheeky grin." You know, I could show you what it was like?” He offered.

Skeppy actually, physically jumped back." What?! Are you crazy?!" He shouted." No, I don't wanna be eaten, how would that even work that's not even physically possible!" He really shouldn't have said that, because that just opened the gateway for Bad.

Bad crossed his arms." No, I'm not "crazy". And really, it's not that big of a stretch, I'm sure that at my full height I'd be able to do it." He reasoned.

He really, really hated that that was probably true.

Bad is a size shifter, with four different sizes he could choose from, and at his tallest he was somewhere around 15 feet. Probably definitely able to eat someone.

Skeppy shook his head." I think you might be forgetting one important detail here, Bad, I WILL DIE IF YOU EAT ME." Despite being almost 3 feet taller than him, Bad still winced from the loud noise.

"What makes you say that?" He had the audacity to sound genuinely confused.

Skeppy flung his hands in the air." Uhh, I don't know, maybe because things get digested in burning acid when they're eaten?!" He cried with less vigor, but still sounding upset.

Bad stared at Skeppy with an seriously embarrassing amount of confusion. After a few seconds it finally seemed to click." Ohh, no no no, Skeppy, that's not how it works. Did I never give you a lesson on demon anatomy?"  No, he hadn't, and Skeppy was kind of hoping to keep it that way.

"See, demons like me have two stomachs," he pointed at an area slightly higher than where a normal stomach would be," this one is for storage purposes, it doesn't have any digestive fluids or anything like that. Everything I eat has to go through there before I manually send it into this stomach," he pointed a little lower," That one does actually digest all my food and stuff." He explained.

He gave Skeppy an odd look." How did you think my parents were able to...eat me?" He asked.

Skeppy sighed, not making eye contact." I dunno man, I just thought it happened with some weird demon magic or whatever." So it was actually possible for Bad to eat him, and for him to be completely safe.

" I don't know Bad, this is still really freaking weird, I don't think I wanna do this." He said uncomfortably.

Bad sighed, a bit dejected." Ok, Skeppy, I won't make you do it if you don't want to. I just wanted to explain why I wanted to do it." Why did he sound sad?

Skeppy tilted his head." Why, exactly, do you want to do it? I still don't see what's enjoyable about it." He asked genuinely.

Bad scratched the back of his head, looking awkward." I- I don't know. I just remember it feeling very nice. Even as a demon the Nether is still a scary place, I felt...safe whenever they did it. It was just...nice and warm. Like nothing could hurt me." He admitted quietly.

Skeppy gave him a soft smile." It sounds like you wanna get eaten more than I do." He joked lightly.

Bad brightened, giving him a wide grin." Oh my gosh, would you eat me, Skeppy?" He asked hopefully, tail wagging like an oversized dog.

Skeppy very quickly shook his head." What?! No way, dude! That would definitely kill you!" He yelped.

Bad grabbed his hands, linking them together." Not necessarily! I think I have some potions that can make me immune to acid!” He explained excitedly.

Skeppy gave him a skeptical look." You just have those lying around, huh?" He deadpanned.

If Bad were human, he probably would have blushed." Well-I, you see-... shut up." He sputtered." Look, will you actually do it now?"

He bent his knees to look Skeppy in the eyes.

Despite the fact that Bad was a 9'6 demon, it was still impossible for him to not give into the puppy dog eyes.

He hesitated for several seconds, and took a deep breath.

"Show me what to do."

—

Well, here he was. With a tiny, potioned up Bad in the palm of his hand.

"Are you ready, Skeppy?" Bad asked gently. He was willing to go as slowly as possible for Skeppy's comfort, even if he was incredibly eager. Especially since he'd taken off his robes in exchange for an easier T shirt and shorts, making him much colder.

Skeppy shifted nervously." I don't know what to do." He admitted.

Bad tilted his head." Do you wanna let me inside your mouth?" He asked calmly.

Skeppy's anxiety skyrocketed, but he tried not to let it show. He delicately brought Bad closer to his mouth. He really didn't wanna do this.

Bad smiled calmly, sensing his nervousness." Would you like me to just climb in myself? So you don't feel like I'm being forced?" Skeppy nodded and wordlessly opened his mouth.

He slowly climbed in, trying not to startle Skeppy too much. He very patiently sat on his friends tongue. It sadly wasn't as warm as he'd like, but it was better than outside.

"Now, I know this may sound weird, but I need you to lick me, like, a lot." He guided.

Skeppy whined, and Bad reassured him that he was fine and ok with it.

Skeppy reluctantly obliged and began running his tongue across the demon, coating him in a thick layer of saliva. He had a very smoke-y taste to him, which made sense seeing as he was from the Nether. Eventually Bad told him he'd done enough and, to Skeppy's dismay, moved closer to his throat.

"I'm ready when you are, Skeppy." He shuddered, Bad was putting his complete trust and faith into him. He was willing and excited to let Skeppy eat him. He didn’t want to let his best friend down.

He tilted his head back, swallowing thickly. He tried not to panic over the unusually large lump that was traveling down his throat. It was such a weird sensation, yet to his surprise it wasn’t as horrible as he thought it would be. He swallowed a few more times, and eventually the warm weight that was his best friend settled into his belly.

Immediately he began asking," Are you ok? I didn't hurt you did I?"

Bad didn't respond for a few moments and Skeppy now had to deal with the startling sensation of something moving in his stomach, as Bad pawed around like he was trying to get his bearings.

Finally, he responded." Yes, Skeppy, I'm ok. That was a little disorienting but I'm perfectly fine." He paused for a moment." Are you ok?" He inquired.

He wasn’t sure how to answer, he was still processing that he’d just eaten his best friend alive.

He pressed a hand against his stomach, feeling where Bad was. He felt a bit of shuffling and soon a hand was pressed against the inside as well. Bad was...safe...inside him. Skeppy was now the sole protector of him. Protected by layers of flesh and diamond, no one could hurt him. Now he was beginning to understand why Bad wanted to do this so desperately. He wanted to be able to protect his best friend like this all the time, and he was certain that's how Bad felt as well.

"I think I'm ok, actually..." He said softly, gently rubbing circles against Bad's form.

Bad was quite happy about his current situation. The walls around him were very soft and, if it weren't for the layers of slime he was coated in, felt almost like a bed. He didn't have much room to move but he didn't feel like he was being suffocated. It wasn't as warm as he'd like (aka as warm as sitting in a fire) but it was warm, and that was very pleasant. He could hear the gurgles and growls of the organs surrounding him, as well as the gradually steadier heartbeat and whoosh of Skeppy's lungs as he began calming down. Loud, but not too intrusive.

The best thing about it, though, was that he hasn't felt this safe in a long, long time.

Ever since his time with The Egg he had become a very paranoid and closed off person. He was afraid of talking to the other members of the server, either out of fear that they still harbored some hatred for what he'd done, or that they would be corrupted as well. Even though he knew that The Egg was gone now it had woven itself very deep into his brain, and a small part of him still believed that one day it would erupt from the earth and devour the world with its vines.

Bad harshly shook his head. He wouldn't let thoughts about The Egg get to him. That was for Puffy’s therapy office, not for here.

Truthfully, though, he hadn't really felt safe since the day he'd stepped out of the Nether portal for the first time. Far from his family, his home. Not even being with Skeppy had made him feel as safe as he did now.

But now, he was at the very core of his best friend. Nothing could hurt him. He was safe, and he was with Skeppy, he couldn't ask for anything better.

He grinned a little to himself, giving the wall he was leaned against a little pat." I told you it wasn't as bad as you thought it'd be." He said only a little smugly.

Skeppy sighed with faux frustration." I will admit, I didn't expect it to feel...like this." He laid down on his bed, placing a hand on his stomach.

“ I guess it's not that bad." He said, rubbing small circles where he could feel Bad's form.

Bad grinned a little, beginning to rub circles with both of his hands against the walls of Skeppy's stomach.

Skeppy practically melted into his bed at that point. He'd definitely never felt anything like that before, it made him feel very warm and content.

They stayed like that for a couple more minutes but he was starting to get tired, and he knew Bad must be tired as well.

"Are you gonna be ok if I leave you in there? Will you be safe?" He questioned softly.

Bad nodded out of habit despite the fact that Skeppy couldn't see." It'll be fine, the potion’s got a long time before it wears off," he paused,"...I kinda planned for this." He said with only slight embarrassment.

Skeppy lightly chuckled, he would have to remember to tease him about that in the morning but for now he was too tired, instead just settling on giving his belly a light pat.

They both drowsily exchanged their good nights before slowly dozing off together, finally feeling safe and content at last.

[lovesgonnabe]

Love Is Worth It - Episode II: The Talk

Characters: Chris Evans x Maya Alonso-Evans (Black OFC)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, cursing, slight Implied smut

Word Count: 2928

Summary: What happens when a dad has to have a tough conversation with a 5 year old about something he may never experience?

Point of View: Chris Evans 

Authors Note: It has been a while since I’ve written so please bear with my rustiness, and there’s slight edits so there may be errors. RIP Chadwick Boseman. 

Disclaimer: This is about to be super dramatic and very fluffy. Also italicized is a flashback.

Taglist: @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss if you would like to join the taglist message me.

Please leave a note and tell me what you think!

I Just Don’t Understand...

As I walk into the house i was having a hard time processing what had just happened on the other side of the door and having a screaming child, barking dog and the anxiety monster on my back isn’t helping.

And I swore I put the heater on but the house was cold and empty.

“Delilah give daddy a minute sweetheart” I told my crying baby girl.

She cried as loud as she could as I sat her down on the couch with a now whimpering Dodger at her feet 

As I paced trying to think, the commotion around me was crippling, I just couldn’t endure the pain my entire body was in, I was in a state of powerlessness.

I’m always prepared especially for moments like these, but at the amount my ability to think was out of the window when I realized i was not mentally prepared for this. Doing the next best thing I called in reinforcements.

the phone rang four times before he picked up “Chris this better be damn important and why is my niece screaming like she’s dying?” Austin said on the other line.

I sighed running my hands through my hair “It’s Maya, she just got arrested in driveway and I don’t know what to do an- quiet down sweetheart, it’ll be alright.” I said.

I sat down on the couch laid Dede on my chest as I tried my best to calm her down, and keep myself together.

“Hold on, What do you mean arrested, what did she do.” Austin asked in shock now giving me his full attention.

Who is Austin you may ask?

Well he is our attorney...

Who also happens to be a prosecutor for the Southern District of New York...

Oh and did mention he’s Maya’s older brother.

Of course I told him everything I knew and then some.

I thanked the heavens when I turned on Frozen and Delilah calmed down to a sniffle, i started to feel like I had some control of the situation.

“That’s some bullshit man, ok listen I’ve gotta make some calls, don’t go to the station, don’t call for her or pick up any calls from the police station, just let me handle it and I’ll text you when it’s taken care of got it?” Austin said

I sighed “Alright we can do that” Austin chuckles “look I know that feeling of being helpless right now, and it’s all gonna be alright, she’s gonna back home tonight, so just relax, this is just something we sadly have to go through, I’ll be over this weekend to check on her” I nodded like he could see me and we hung up.

I took a deep breath and rubbed Delilah’s back and a few tears escaping from my eyes as looked at Elsa save Anna at the end of frozen. I wiped my face because I had to stay strong for my baby girl and I looked down at her.

“Hey Lilah how about some pizza for dinner tonight?” I asked her, nodding her head she wiped her nose mumbling that she was gonna take a bath.

She reminded more and more of her mom everyday from her big brown eyes to her high cheeks and button nose she was becoming just like the woman love.

When she got up all I could think about was when Maya was pregnant with Delilah.

—————

Maya laid on the bed rubbing her belly looking at me with an annoyed look on her face.

“Chris I’m being serious there is going be a day when we are going to have to face the reality that we will have to talk about race relations with our little peanut” Maya said.

I chuckle as i walking out of our connected bathroom leaning against the doorframe looking in adoration of her infatuation with her little belly.

“Babe I understand that trust me I’ve read more how to raise a multiracial baby books than I can count” I said. She looks at me I’m like I’m crazy and rolls her eyes.

“Maya I’m joking but don’t you think its a bit early to having these conversation the baby isn't even here yet babe.” I sighed 

Shaking her head she gets up from the bed “well that was a terrible joke Chris and it's never too early to think ahead especially since, I may not always be around so you have to be one to be prepared.” She said.

She steps in front of the vanity mirror in our room stripping the red satin body hugging dress she wore from our dinner date tonight. I know what she was doing but I couldn’t focus on how beautiful her glow was because of how morbid she was acting.

Walking to her from the door frame, I got up behind her and wrapped my arms around her softly rubbing her belly. “Don’t say that, we are going to be together till infinity you better believe that.” I placed my chin on her shoulder and kissed her check.

She whispered sadly “Chris I do believe that, It’s just statics show that black women are 3x more likely to die in childbirth than white women, I just want you to be prepared” I groaned.

She reminds me that deathening fact at least once a week but I keep my cool stood up straight and grabbed her hands, placing them on her belly while intertwining them with mine.

We caught each other's gaze in the mirror, her pregnancy glow makes me want to make sure she keeps popping out babies. The way her skin glistened under our dimmed lights and how soft she felt under my touch to her sweet smell Lavender, this woman was my world.

“Look I refuse to leave that hospital without you ok. Maya I don’t know what I’d do if I were to lose you” I softly respond 

“Now repeat after me we are going to have a beautiful, healthy, happy baby girl and we are leaving that hospital together.” I say as we held an intense gaze through the mirror in front of us.

She chuckles “I still think our little peanut will be a boy but I guess we’ll find out in a few days” I let out a gut busting laugh. “Whatever you say my love” I kiss her shoulder then the sweet spot behind her ear

I whispered in her ear “maybe we can start you know practicing for that baby boy right now?” 

I stand, slowly pushing her back down bending her in front of the vanity with her hands on the chair, I move my hands to her hip and sent a smack to her ass.

She sucked her teeth “Don’t think you’re slick we aren’t done with this conversation” she moans as I gently rub her clit. I chuckled and got to work.

———————

I concluded that without her no matter how much we’ve prepared there is no way I was ready to handle situations like these especially alone.

By the time the pizza gets here I’ve emptied the groceries from Maya’s car, feed Dodger and changed the movie.

When I came into the kitchen Delilah was on her little step stool gabbing the plates then the cheese and utensils.

I raised an eyebrow very confused as to when my little girl was becoming a big girl.

“When did you become so independent Dede” I said give each of us two slices

She gave me a said smile and said “I just watch mommy do it.” She shrugged

We walk in to the living room and I started Princess and the Frog or Delilah’s favorite movie.

We sat in silence for a bit and then sniffling again she asked “daddy why did they take mommy today”

This is the talk I’ve been dreading it was something Maya and I agreed we’d give her when she was 10 and we’d give it together.

When we talk about it all Maya would say was “you will know what to say when the time comes at least that’s what my mom says”

Yet all I could do was look at those big brown eyes and hesitate, i paused the movie, grabbed her hand and just went off the cuff with what came from the heart.

I sigh “look at our hands do you see any difference?”

She nodded “yeah mommy says she dark chocolate, you’re white chocolate and I’m a cute Caramel, we are all different but we all love the same” 

I laugh, it would be like my wife to be teaching me while she wasn’t here.

We put our plates down and scooted closer to each other still holding hands.

I hesitate again “the thing is sweetheart there are some but not all people in this world and a lot of them are white chocolate like me and they don’t like that mommy is dark chocolate so they do mean things to them like what happened today.” She nodded with her processing the information face.

“Ok daddy but why aren’t more white chocolate people like you, mommy didn’t do anything we just got ice cream.” She asked still somewhat confused with the entire situation.

My little peanut is one of the smartest cookies I know and I forget sometimes that she is still only 5. It pains me to see that she even with how bright she is she is still too young to fully comprehend the severity of the situation.

“That I don’t know but I do know that mommy’s gonna be ok and that no matter what I love you and mommy more than anything In the world” I said with a reassuring smile.

“One more question since I-I am Caramel and not white chocolate like you would that happen to me” she asked.

This is the dreaded question as a father you don’t want to see your kids in pain you want them happy but the reality is that the one thing I’ve learned with being with Maya is  that being black in a white America isn’t easy.

Running my hand through my hair the wrapped my arm around her “It may happen Lilah but mommy and I will do everything in our power to make sure you are ready for those moments, but right now just worry about being a kid and we’ll take care of the rest.” She nodded and I kissed her forehead.

We continued our movie session and sat in silence until the end of the movie when Delilah wanted to watch Moana.

It was midnight on school night but I decided that Delilah wasn’t going to school tomorrow and I let my assistant know to relay the message that I was not coming to set tomorrow. So I turned on the next movie.

Half-way through I got a text from Austin

------------------------------------------------------

                        11/25/2020 12:49am

Austin: Hey bro just got off the phone with the Boston PD precinct Maya’s at she’ll be released in about one hour and she good go

Chris: Thank You, I’m on my way.

------------------------------------------------------

I wanted to cheer so loud but Dede and Dodger were asleep, so I called my parents to drop Delilah off which my mom agreed happily.

After dropping Dede off at my parents who I am still shocked were still awake this late, I headed to the precinct, my body was shaking with nerves. When I got there I parked and rushed inside.

When the front desk lady began speak I cut her off “I’m here for Maya Alonso-Evans” she looked at me like she was gonna scream with excitement but I guess my face said it all.

She escorted me to the back “Chief Demilio will see you now” my hands were sweaty I knocked and heard a come in.

Walking into the office there she sat with dry tear stains on her face, looking disheveled, she ran to me and threw her hands around me as she started to cry some more.

“its gonna alright baby I’m here” I whispered and hugged her back tightly.

“Hello Mr. Evans thank you for joining us we are just wrapping up here, would you like to take a seat” the weird looking man behind the mahogany desk asked.

I ushered her back to her previous seat and I stood behind her placing my jacket on her shoulder as I rub them softly “no I’m good with standing” I say with a menacing face.

He clears his throat and looks at us awkwardly “ok then, on the behalf of Boston PD we would like to  give our sincerest apologies for the inconvenience of this mix up and the officers will be dealt with accordingly.” I raised an eyebrow at his shortness and at the sorry ass apology we were getting.

“Ok so what is going to happen to these officers then?” I ask with my hands still on Maya’s shoulders trying to keep both of us calm.

He smirks “one will be put on administrative leave for the next month and the other indefinitely until we can get this all sorted” he says to us show us the file.

Maya sighs an exasperated sigh looking as if she could pass out right there.

I speak up “that’s it the are getting a paid vacation?” I asked highly confused at this situation.

“The board thinks due to the incidents in this case that this is best punishment we can give them, we know your upset Mr. Evans but you must look at the circumstances” he says talking down to me as my breathing began to pick up.

I chuckled “the only circumstances I see was my wife being falsely accused for a crime that she didn't commit and being arrested in front our 5 year old daughter wh-“ Maya put her hand up cutting me off speaking for the first time since I got there. 

Placing her hand on top of mine “It’s ok Chris I just wanna go home” she got up grabbed my keys out of my hand and without another word walked out and I followed right behind her shaking my head.

She got her things they took before they booked her and we headed to the car, I opened the door for her she quietly thanked me and we started our journey home.

The first 10 minutes was a comfortable silence then I decided to break it.

I grabbed her hand and kissed it “honey you alright?” I know it was an awful question to ask but something had to be said.

She shrugged her shoulders “I am just exhausted right now all I want is food, maybe some sex and a good cuddle with Delilah, did you leave her with your parents” she ask now checking her phone.

I nodded “Dede asked me if what happen to you would happen to her” we were now at a red light and looked at each other.

Maya groaned and rubbed her forehead “what did you say?” She looked at me again

I let out a heavy breathe “I just told her it could happen and that we’d deal with it when she got a little older and that not all people are like the men from today.” I started tapping the steering wheel with my left hand, I was nervous.

she let out a relieved sigh “Ok that works” was all she said and I looked at her confused.

She chuckled “What? You did your best among the circumstances. Isn’t that what the police chief said back there” she rolled her eyes and I laughed at her sly remark.

“There goes my baby. Have you heard from Austin yet?” I ask turning on our street.

Then she laughed “yeah he called me while I was in a holding cell to let me know when I’d be let out.. You know his frat brother is the attorney general of Massachusetts” I chuckled and pulled to the driveway.

Once I parked, I got out and opened her door and she asked me to carry her in, she wrapped her legs around my waist and I walked us into our home.

With her looking at me as I focused on getting us both up the stairs she starts kissing me all over my face “Hey I know you wish you could’ve done more babe but you did what’s most important and that be a father to our beautiful daughter.” She said as we reached our room.

I dropped her on our California King and stood between her legs rubbing her thighs.

She sat up rubbing the hair on the back of my neck “You are the rock to my roll you make me feel safe and today you protected me the best you could, I love you papi remember that” she softly kissed my lips.

Her lips tasted like sin and strawberry lip balm. Her back felt like velvet as I ran my hands up her warm body and into her hair pulling on it softly. As our kiss deepened, her embrace felt like home to me and I would not know what I’d do if had loss her tonight.

I whispered back “I love you to the moon and back my love”

Many people do not agree with our relationship and don’t understand why I’d choose Maya over all the other women I could be with. But this was my choice to make and I wouldn't change a thing. However, for those who disagree with me.

Fuck Them!

[riversofmars]

Would you look at that, finally another update! :D Sorry about the delay guys, I'm going through a really stressful time at work at the moment and my mental capacity is a bit more limited than usual lol. But here we are!

Chapter 14: Deceit

“Well done.“ The Emperor slow clapped as he stepped out of the TARDIS and Missy whirled around.

“How did you…“ She didn’t know what to say. She had refused to share her secret, the only secret worth keeping she had, the location of Gallifrey, and it had all been for nothing. Here he was, his heavy boots falling onto the sand.

“Well, I knew I would get my answer either way. I thought you would take the easier way, I really did, I thought you would tell me where it is but this works too.“ He explained, savouring the moment and the expression of devastation on her face. She had failed to stop him from finding their home.

“You put a tracker on me.“ Missy realised.

“I knew eventually you would return to Gallifrey.“ He shrugged.

“Leave. You’re one man. How are you going to take on the Gallifreyan military.“ Missy looked around to the capital in the distance. They would notice their arrival soon enough if they hadn’t already. She could only hope the Council would realise what they were dealing with.

“Don’t underestimate me, so many have.“ The Emperor chuckled. “And I’m not alone, am I.“ Missy’s anxiety increased as she watched River, Rory and Amy step out of the TARDIS behind him.

“Missy, how’s life? How were the last four and a half billion years? You’ll excuse us for taking a short cut.“ River smirked as she looped her arm around her husband’s.

“This is great, nothing but dust and blazing sunlight.“ Amy huffed sarcastically as she looked around, Gallifrey wasn’t exactly the marvellous thing of beauty she had expected.

“Not sure you’ve met my in-laws?“ The Emperor took great pleasure in Missy’s obvious discomfort. “But wait, there is one more.“ He looked around as Clara stepped out of the TARDIS and Missy visibly tensed. She squared her jaw, forcing herself to appear unfazed. “What? No cheerful reunion?“ The Emperor joked as they just looked at each other.

“Here they come.“ Rory interrupted and pointed towards the capital.

“They will kill you.“ Missy said as she looked around to find a ship approaching.

“Let them try.“ The Emperor smirked.

“You’re trespassing, you are not welcome here.“ A metallic voice sounded when the shuttle got close, hovering in front of them.

“Is that really how you welcome home a son of Gallifrey? A war hero?“ The Emperor called back.

“You’re not welcome here, Doctor. You’re not a hero, you’re a war criminal.“ The electronically amplified voice shot back. Missy looked to the Emperor, who didn’t even react to the usage of his old name.

“Who defeated the Daleks and saved Gallifrey? Did you? Did any of you?“ He retorted. “I’m walking into that city, whether you like it or not. Come along.“ He looked to his companions.

“We will open fire.“ The warning came promptly.

“Well go on then!“ The Emperor took a step forward and to Missy’s surprise and horror the patrol followed through without hesitation. They opened fire. Three rounds of heavy artillery. When the dust cleared, the Emperor and his friends stood unscathed and amused, only Missy had cowered down. “You really think I would stand here without ample protection?“ The Emperor called up to the ship. There was no response. Then, suddenly, heavy shells pounded into the ship. The explosions blinded them, the noise was deafening. Missy looked around to see Amy having retrieved a sort of rocket launcher from inside the TARDIS, firing at the shuttle. Within seconds, the ship exploded and debris crashed to the ground. They remained save within the TARDIS’s shield, all Missy could do was look on in horror.

“Told you it was worth bringing the big guns.“ Amy grinned dropping the rocket launcher, it’s shells spent.

“Let’s go before they send reinforcements.“ The Emperor decided. “Come along, Missy.“

“You don���t need me.“ Missy remained rooted to the spot as the others set off.

“I don’t but I want you to see me tear the city apart.“ He retorted.

“Why are you doing this?“ Missy didn’t understand. All this destruction and for what?

“They cast me out. They could have had it all but they were scared. So instead of standing with me, they hid at the end of time like the cowards they are, I’m going to make them pay.“ The Emperor answered as they stopped to wait for her to come along. “You of all people should understand, they left you behind too!“

“I don’t understand you, I never have…“ Missy shook her head. “Why won’t you leave me behind? Or kill me? If this is the end of time, I haven’t got anywhere to go anyway.“ She had had to get away from him. If she wanted any chance of stopping him destroying Gallifrey or indeed surviving herself, she had to get away. He had to have some idea of how he could go about conquering Gallifrey. He couldn’t go into its past like he usually did when destroying a planet and surely he didn’t have the man power to stand against the Gallifreyan military. But the Emperor wouldn’t come here without a plan, would he?

“Oh no, Missy, you’re coming with me. From now on, I wish my enemies long and healthy lives so they can witness my many victories. And this will be the biggest.“ The Emperor grinned. “Gallifrey is the last stand.“ The paused for a moment as something caught his attention and he listened out. “Can you hear that?“ He asked as the distant ringing of bells carried across the plains ahead of them.

“The Cloister Bells.“ Missy realised.

“How’s that significant?“ Amy asked and River answered:

“They toll when disaster is drawing near.“

“It’s not drawing near, it’s here.“ The Emperor smirked.

——

“This is nice, I could see myself living like this.“ River took her time looking around. The grandeur of the place was certainly to her taste.

“What… how…“ The other River stared at her in shock. Was she hallucinating? It was a lot to take in but she realised this had to be possible. There was no reason why there should be a mirror version of her wife and not herself. Apart from the fact that the Doctor had admitted to her wife being dead? She shook her head to clear it, she had to find out what was happening. The Cloister Bells ringing for the first time in years and this River’s appearance couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Oh come on, you’ve met my wife, you know of me.“ River gave a little wave as she circled around the room surveying everything. She took her time too, which made it all the more unnerving.

“How did you get here?“ The Emperor’s wife demanded to know as she regained her composure.

“Same way as my wife?“ River retorted in an off hand sort of way. “Not sure actually. But aren’t you missing the more important question?“ She turned back to her twin and found herself staring down a gun.

“Why are you here?“ The other River demanded to know.

“Oh okay, this is gonna be fun.“ River tilted her head with a sly smile and pulled a gun on her in turn. “How long has it been for you since you shot a gun?“ She asked with a smirk. “Aren’t you getting a bit rusty living in this comfort? Me, I’ve just been chased by deadly shadows only a little while ago, my instincts are as sharp as they come.“ The bells tolled again.

“How come you died then.“ The Emperor’s wife shot back gipping the hilt of her gun more tightly.

“Oh I’m sure you can guess. How do you think you will die?“ River deflected.

“Not here.“ The other River retorted promptly.

“Well, neither one of us has to die, that’s not why I’m here.“ The Doctor’s wife shrugged. “Come on, ask me again.“ She smirked, she was enjoying this more than she probably should.

“Why are you here?“ The Emperor’s wife repeated exasperated. “You could have killed me already, which means you’re here because you want something.“

“I’m here because I agreed to kill you and your wife. You’re not dead because I thought I’d offer you something instead.“ River answered.

“Which is?“ The other River raised her eyebrows surprised. She didn’t, however, lower her gun.

“I don’t trust Clara, I don’t know her, not in my universe or yours.“ River revealed. “You, however, have a very trustworthy face.“ When the other River didn’t react to her joke she carried on to explain: “I listened in on the conversation the three of you were having and, boy, was it informative.“

“You have no idea what…“ The Emperor’s wife tried to interrupt but she wouldn’t let her.

“Shush, I’m talking.“ River shot her down playfully as another bell tolled. “You want to get rid of her. To do that, you need prove she’s plotting against you.“

“We already know she is.“ The other River huffed unimpressed.

“Maybe, but can you prove it? And have you figured out how to overpower her when it comes to it? She won’t go quietly and she does have the Quantum Shade under her control… how will you get to her without getting yourself or other’s killed.“ River asked. “I can help with that and I can get Clara to confess to plotting to kill the Emperor. You can get rid of her at last. Or you can let her carry out her little ploy for which she has enlisted my help and secured the cooperation of my wife. And believe we, we will make sure she succeeds if it’s our best way to get out of here… Or we can work together and we both win. You get rid of Clara and you will have us out of your hair.“

——

“Who’s there?“ Yaz called into the Cloisters convinced there was more than the wraiths moving in the shadows. “Fan out.“ She instructed raising her gun as she slowly moved forward. Her troops of men obeyed, splitting up as they advanced into the Cloisters. “We know you’re down here. Come out come out wherever you are!“ Yaz hummed as the bells rang. The sound was deafening down here.

“They’re blocking the exit…“ Missy observed glancing past the pillar for a moment.

“They don’t belong down here…“ The Doctor mumbled catching a glimpse as well, so far they hadn’t been noticed but they wouldn’t be able to keep hidden for long.

“They must have come because of the bells…“ Missy retorted and the Doctor shook her head.

“That’s not what I mean.“ She replied as she looked again to assess where the different soldiers were headed.

“Oh you mean because…“ Realisation dawned on Missy and the Doctor nodded:

“The wraiths protect the Matrix, the Matrix is Timelord technology, everything else that invades the Cloisters is a foreign body, a virus, and they are the fire wall. They will protect the Cloister. We are Timelords. The guards don’t seem to be.“ The Doctor explained. “We need to draw them further in…“ The soldiers were advancing slowly, spread out evenly. They would spot them soon if they didn’t move.

“They won’t be stupid enough to venture too far, surely…“ Missy couldn’t imagine that they weren’t aware of the risks.

“You know sometimes I have really brilliant ideas…“ The Doctor grinned as she turned her head to look at Missy and feeling slightly better already, Missy asked:

“Yes?“

“This is not one of them.“ The Doctor smiled apologetically and jumped out from behind the pillar. “Over here!“ She called.

“Stop right there!“ Yaz shouted and the Doctor waved her arms catching the attention of the other guards as well. Another bell toll shook them to the bone.

“You have to catch me first!“ She started running, drawing them away from Missy who was watching in horror as the guards chased after her.

The Doctor didn’t keep running for long, she quickly found herself in a corner and face to face with Yasmin Kahn.

“You’re surrounded, Doctor.“ The captain of the guard informed her.

“Hello again, Captain.“ The Doctor looked around. Indeed, she was surrounded by four guards and Yaz who was approaching with a smug smirk on her face as she lowered her gun.

“Surrender now, Doctor.“ She said as she looked her up and down. “No-one is going to fall for that disguise.“ She huffed.

“We will see about that.“ The Doctor retorted with a smile, over Yaz’s shoulder she watched Missy sneak towards the exit. “You really don’t know me every well yet, Yaz, such a shame, otherwise you wouldn’t have made this mistake.“ She focused her attention back on Yaz when she was sure Missy had made it to the door. They were so focused on her that they didn’t even notice Missy or, in fact, how far into the Cloisters they had come and what might be lurking in the shadows.

“What mistake is that.“ The captain huffed slightly amused. She raised her gun again for good measure. “You’re backed into a corner, you’re trapped.“

“There is one thing you never put in a trap.“ The Doctor took a step towards her and away from the shadows. “If you’re smart. If you value your continued existence, if you have any plans of seeing tomorrow, there is one thing you never ever put in a trap.“ She smirked pushing her hands into her pockets. She looked past Yaz to where she knew her eyes needed to be for just a moment longer.

“Yeah? What’s that.“ Yaz asked tilting her head as the bells rang again.

“Me.“ The Doctor answered and pulled her sonic from her pocket. Before anyone could react she pointed it at the ceiling lights and everything went dark. And then, there was movement in the dark, she could feel it, even if she couldn’t see it. The guards could feel it too and opened fire. The Doctor quickly dove for cover as energy blasts flew overhead. With every flash of light, she saw the Weeping Angels had moved, grabbing hold of the soldiers, their weapons. They screamed. The angels were part of the firewall, protecting the Matrix against aliens. It was high time she got out of here before the angels decided she was an intruder as well. The Doctor ducked under the arms of an angel and bolted for the door that Missy was holding open.

——

When there was a knock on her door, Clara was reluctant to open. The tolling of the Cloister Bells put her on edge, like everyone else in the palace presumably. There was no way of knowing whose disaster they were announcing. She was prepared for all sorts when she opened up, but to find River back so soon was what she had least expected.

“That was…“ She looked at her perplexed but River didn’t pay much attention, she just walked past her.

“Quick, I know, surprising what you can accomplish with the right incentive.“ She retorted.

“So it’s…“ Clara closed the door behind her after checking up and down the corridor. No-one had seen her come in.

“Done? Of course it is, I don’t make empty promises.“ River chuckled and Clara was genuinely stunned.

“I’m gonna need some sort of proof.“ She managed to say at last, trying to take in the news.

“How’s this for proof? Bottle of the Emperor’s finest, straight from her drinks cabinet I might add.“ River presented a bottle of champagne that she had been carrying. “How else do you think did I get my hands on that?“

“I could do with a drink…“ Clara took the bottle with shaky hands.

“Then there is this…“  River held out her hand to Clara who took a moment to understand what she was referring to.

“Is that…“ Clara’s eyes fell on the ring River was presenting to her, she hadn’t worn it before.

“Thought I might keep it, as a memento you know… fits perfectly after all.“ River chuckled as she dropped her hand with the wedding ring and made her way to a cabinet to retrieve some champagne flutes. “A toast then?“ She carried the glasses over to Clara as the bells rang again.

“Quite right.“ Clara found herself smiling now as the news sunk in. They’d done it. The worst was over. Everything else was just technicalities. River had kept up her end of the bargain. Clara popped the cork on the bottle with a grin and River laughed as the champagne sprayed before she could get to the glasses with it.

“This is what you’ve wanted all along, isn’t it.“ River said when they had succeeded in filling their glasses.

“It was never what I wanted…“ Clara retorted as she sat down the bottle. “But it’s what she deserved. She should have just chosen me. Why couldn’t she see that we would have been so happy…“ If only for a moment, a wave of sadness swept over her. “I can’t believe she’s dead.“ She mumbled and took a sip of the champagne in an attempt to calm herself.

“Are you regretting it?“ River asked tilting her head.

“No.“ Clara said after a moment of brief consideration as she sorted through her emotions. She looked back up to River and smiled. “I actually feel so… relieved. It’s like a spell is finally lifting. I should have done this so long ago.“ She raised her glass to a toast. “To new beginnings.“ She grinned and River toasted her.

“So what happens now?“ River asked as she watched Clara drink.

“Now we…“ Clara started to answer when suddenly, a wave of sickness came over her. She steadied herself against the table. “Now we…“ She tried again but broke off when she started feeling dizzy. She looked to River and realised her mistake as she watched her tipping out her own glass. She hadn’t taken as much as a sip. This time, the tolling of the bells sounded like a rousing chorus as Clara’s senses slipped out of her control.

“Now you’re going to pay for your deceit, Clara dear.“ River smirked and Clara collapsed.

——

“River?“ The Emperor called out as she returned to her quarters. She was on edge. Although it was the middle of the night, the whole palace was awake. The ringing of the Cloister Bells kept them up and shook the foundations of her reign. Questions where being shot at her from every direction, even on her way back to her quarters. The bells had been quiet for so long, everyone knew something was happening and the Emperor didn’t have any answer yet. She had to find out what was going on but no reports had come in so far. All she could do was wait. “River?“ She repeated when she didn’t get an response. As the bells tolled again in the distance, she felt a wave of worry. She shouldn’t have left River here by herself. Quickly she walked into the adjoining room and called for her again. The wheezing and groaning of the TARDIS sounded, drawing her attention. “River, what are you…“ The Emperor pulled the box’s door open and to find River fiddling with the console.

“Oh, welcome home, Sweetie.“ River looked around with a smile.

“What…“ The Emperor hoovered in the doorway, something was off, why was River in here and what was she doing? The TARDIS hummed in response to her unspoken question.

“Now, now, that’s not fair, telling on me.“ River sighed shooting a look at the large crystal in the centre. The Emperor pulled a knife from her belt.

“What is going on here?“ She growled. The TARDIS was right, this was not her wife.

“That’s disappointing, I was so curious to find out if I could fool her but you just had to ruin the fun, didn’t you.“ She shook her head at the TARDIS which responded with a threatening buzz, very unlike the TARDIS River knew.

“Where is my wife? How did you get in here?“ The Emperor demanded to know and took a threatening step towards her. The resemblance was remarkable, down to the same dress her wife had worn when she had left her here not long ago. One thing was missing though, that gave her away straight away: her wedding ring. The Emperor tried her best to prioritise her thoughts. This was the Doctor’s wife, she had to be. While part of her was intrigued, curious as to how she had got here and wondering, how she could use her, the other part was overcome by deep worry for the wellbeing of her River.

“Don’t worry, your wife is fine, just off to have a little chat with Clara.“ River gave a wave of her hand as she stepped closer. She also marvelled at the resemblance between the Emperor and her own wife. She eyed the knife in her hand with curiosity. The Doctor hated the use of weapons.

“Why would she be doing that?“ The Emperor shot back.

“Because I suggested it? Because the other option would have been me killing her and none of us want that, do we.“

“You? Kill her? Oh, darling, if you’re anything like that pathetic excuse of a wife of yours, I would love to see you try.“ The Emperor huffed condescendingly.

“I like your fire.“ River smirked, she couldn’t deny that the assertiveness and confidence was quite attractive on her but it wouldn’t distract her from why she was here. “You haven’t got the first idea what I’m capable of. Or my wife for that matter. But I have a feeling you will find out soon enough.“ In the distance, the Cloister Bells tolled again.

“What is going on here? What are you planning?“ The Emperor shot back.

“Well, I did tell Clara I’d kill you but then I thought better of it, don’t really want to be picking sides in your game of thrones.“ River answered. “Now, really, I’m just waiting to see what my dear wife has come up with.“

“She’s on her way here for you, isn’t she?“ The Emperor concluded.

“Perhaps.“ River shrugged. “I don’t actually know. It’s all terribly exciting, isn’t it.“ She grinned. “Now I think I best get going.“

“You really think you can walk out of here? I bet the Doctor would move heaven and hearth to keep you safe, seeing as she let you die once already. Perhaps she can finally be persuaded to share her secrets if your life is on the line. So really, it’s terribly thoughtful of you to pop in.“ The Emperor smirked. This River was the leverage over the Doctor she had been missing. And she had walked right into her arms. No matter how confidently she acted, they both knew there was only one way out of the TARDIS and that was through the Emperor.

[pixiedst]

Dance With Me 04 // KYG

Request from @lost-midnight-flower​​

Hiii can I request a got7 fic? Maybe something along the lines of meeting the guys at a fan meeting or something and one of them falling head over heals with the reader? That seems pretty cute to me, is that weird? If you choose to write this, you can pick which member you want to write about ^^ have a great day/evening ahead!

Genre: Fluff Pairing: Reader x Yugyeom Rating: PG-13 Warnings: None Description: Dance studio owner Y/N meets Yugyeom at a fan sign. Word Count: 6,997 A/N: First of all, I just want to say thank you for reading this story. It's my first fanfic in two years, so my skills have gotten rusty but I hope you enjoyed it anyway!! I also apologize for the month long wait since the previous chapter. Writer's block is really a pain in the ass, but I finally got through it! Thank you for your patience!! Lastly, I'd like to thank @lost-midnight-flower​ for requesting this. I hope I reached your expectations and enjoyed what I wrote for you!! 

Index // Part One // Part Two // Part Three 

BREAKING: Kim Yugyeom Caught Kissing Mystery Girlfriend, Source Tells DISPATCH

It's all his fault. 

Yugyeom knew the risks. He knew how thin the ice was the moment he asked her, but he did it anyway. Now, with the effects of his mistakes unfolding, he not only put his career at risk, but Y/N’s too. If only he could turn back time and take it all back. He would have stayed quiet, kept his thoughts to himself. He would have kept her safe. 

But that doesn't make sense either. How is this fair? How does being an idol take away his right to a normal life? Since when did the media control him? No, it's not his fault. It can't be. Falling in love with Y/N was never a choice. He only did what felt right. 

Y/N knew the risks as much as he did, but she still took the leap. 

“You can still make things right. There isn’t any proof. Just a source.”

Yugyeom slumps lower in his seat and wishes he could melt into the cushion. “But it’s true. Everything the source said is true.” 

His manager shakes his head. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is your next move. You can confirm this, but think about how it could affect your careers.”

“So you want me to deny all of this? Nobody would believe it.”

“It’s better than having the media in your face every second. Take a couple days to think about it. But remember: you’re the only one we can protect here. She’s on her own.”

-

Nothing is going right for her anymore. The studio has been tense; she only talks to the girls when she has to, and despite their invites, she committed to eating lunch without them. Sure, she's got Yugyeom, but he's too busy to have lunch with her. They haven't even talked much since the news. It’s been rough for the both of them. 

For the first time in a long time, Y/N is completely alone. 

She put her social media on mute. The notifications froze her phone too much, it nearly broke. It was ridiculous. She was able to handle all the hate before, but after Sunhee told Dispatch what she saw, Y/N has not been getting any peace at all. The worst part is that she has to pretend like nothing is bothering her. She still teaches. She still goes according to plan. 

She tries to be professional, but she doesn’t know how much more of this she could take. 

-

They say there’s no place like home. 

Maybe that’s why Y/N is ugly crying on her childhood bed. She’s been at low points before, but she never thought about going home to face them. She simply told the girls the studio is closed for a week and hopped on a train. 

Her parents were the most surprised. They could only stare as their daughter pushed the door open, bags and all, with a face full of tears and puffy eyes. 

She was never the most comfortable with her parents. Her monthly visits would only last for a weekend. It’s not like the people who tried to hold her back from her dreams would be her favorite people. 

But they’re her parents. No matter how hard she tries, she will always have a soft spot for them. Maybe that’s why she came home. 

“Y/N?” her mother calls from the other side of the door. "Can I come in?" When she doesn’t answer, the door opens. 

Y/N buries her face in her pillow, embarrassed to face her mother. She’s not ready to hear the I-told-you-so speech. 

"I brought apple juice."

Y/N’s heart falls. Her favorite drink when she was a child. She looks up. 

“I remember it always made you better,” her mother says and sits on the bed. “Every time you drank it, you would be ready to take on any challenge.” 

Y/N smiles. If only it would give her the energy like it used to. 

“Have you been drinking apple juice?” 

She shakes her head and immediately regrets it when the world spins. "I'm not a child anymore, mom. I have so much work to do in the studio, and… with everything going on, I don’t really have time to think about having energy anymore.” 

“That’s not right, now is it?”

Tears cloud her vision again. Her body trembles as she sobs and falls into her mother's lap. “What should I do?” she asks.

She lets out another sob, and a beautiful string of snot drips from her nose. She wipes it helplessly.

Her mother strokes Y/N’s hair. “You've always been a strong person. You defied your father and me to chase your dreams, and you ended up doing so well. Eventually we realized we were holding you back because we were afraid. We didn't want what we were comfortable with to change, but in the end we knew it would only make you miserable if you stopped doing what you love.” 

“What if I failed, though?” 

"People fail. It's normal. But knowing you, you would have just chugged a gallon of apple juice and gotten back to work. That's just how you are. You are so determined to prove to the world that you are worthy of what you love."

She gets up. “What are you trying to say?"

Mom takes the glass from the nightstand and hands it to her. “I'm telling you to drink your apple juice. The ice is melting."

-

At this point, Y/N is sure she’s crazy. She watches the gray bar slowly fill with blue as a video of her and Yugyeom dancing to I am Yours uploads. Yes, she has completely lost her mind. Nobody was supposed to see this video—it was used for reference when they practiced—but she’s about to change that. She needs to get this out there, to face the cameras and the comments. To show them they are untouchable. 

During her week at home, she realized that artists tend to deny their relationships when the media put pressure on them. They crawl away and keep the truth to themselves or break up altogether. She doesn’t wasn’t want either of that to happen to them. Her mother did not raise a coward. 

This could be it for her career, for a stupid reason too. She’ll have to move back home and find a way to make a living again. But if it means standing up for what’s right, then perhaps it’s worth it. 

67%. 

The hate will not matter. She will not let it touch them. 

She sips her apple juice and sits back on her seat, the wheels rolling her from the pressure. She scans the room. How long has she lived here? Two years? Three? It's been a long time. This studio apartment holds her biggest memories. These walls watched her cry when the stress of opening a studio overwhelmed her. This floor kept her on her feet when the world shook as her parents begged her to come home and do something "practical." And this door has pushed her to face so many tomorrows, especially on days when she’d rather stay locked in. 

This has been her home, and she hates to leave it for a reason so shallow. 

But everything happens for a reason, right? That’s what they always say. Who knows? Maybe miracles will come her way. 

100%.

She did the right thing. She chose to be strong. This must be the right move. 

Her phone lights up. Naver uploaded a new article. 

BREAKING: Kim Yugyeom denies dating rumors. 

-

When they say communication is key, they’re not joking. 

Her hands are sweating so much she fears she might drop her phone. For the first time ever, his voice does not calm her down. 

"This is only getting worse," she says. “Is it too much to ask for you to come over? We can’t talk about this on the phone.”

“I’m on my way to you right now.” 

“Okay, drive sa-“ 

But the call ends. 

He’s at her apartment in less than 10 minutes, and nothing could be more tense. The air around them has never been like this. When she felt safety and comfort in his presence, she now feels anxiety and fear. She doesn’t know how this conversation will play out, or what their relationship will be like when it’s over. 

She uploaded the video, unafraid of losing her career, but never thought that she might lose him.

“Yugyeom, I-“

"You should have told me you were going to do this. We’re supposed to work this out together, not make the move on our own. I can’t believe you right now! Not only did you jeopardize your job, you hurt mine too!”

She tries to keep her voice calm as she says, “Yugyeom, you made the statement without telling me either. Can we take a breath for a moment? We made the same mistake, and I’m sure it was because we thought it was best for both of us. "

"I understand we both made a mistake, and I know I should have talked to you first, but I didn’t exactly assume you would throw yourself right into the hate for this. Have you even read the comments in the video?”

Y/N shakes her head. “You said I shouldn’t let them touch me.”

“That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be careful!” he sighs. “Look, I’m sorry I assumed you wouldn’t want to act so impulsively. I didn’t know that week at home would lead you to make a decision like this.”

She scoffs. “What are you trying to say? You think I can’t act on my own? That I can’t make good decisions?”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know that. Let me put this simply. I thought you wanted to protect your career, so that’s what I prioritized. Denying the claims won’t kill the rumors, but it could reduce them. The company's plan was that if we could just protect the secret better, we could make this work. They were worried about you, Y/N. They could only legally protect me. They thought if we denied the rumors, we could protect you too.” 

The air is thick. She wishes she could be thankful for his consideration, and to maybe even feel guilty for uploading the video, but she can’t. She could never be guilty for doing what she thinks is right. 

“Yugyeom,” she says. “I did what I did because I want to be with you. I want to fight for what I believe in, and that’s respecting idols’ privacy. I thought you believed in that too.”

He groans. “I do believe in that, Y/N! But we have to accept the reality, and sadly, it’s not that. People have no respect for our privacy because we are business products! That is literally what we are. That’s why we can’t swear on camera. That’s why we can’t make mistakes in public. That’s why we can’t date whoever we want! It’s messed up, I know, and I hate it as much as you do, but we have no choice. Uploading that video is not going to make a difference. If anything, it makes matters worse. " 

If you hated it as much as I did, you would take action, she thinks, but says nothing. But he is right. Idols are products. Everything they do is walking on thin ice. What right did she ever have to try and interfere with that? 

Before he can say more, his phone rings. She doesn’t listen. His voice is muffled, like someone put him in a box and hid it in another room. She shifts her weight on each foot every few seconds, like simply standing is tipping her off balance. The call seems to go on for hours. 

Finally he hangs up and looks at her. “I have to go. They want me to come back to the company.”

“Let me go with you. This is my problem too. Maybe we can discuss this better with me around.”

He shakes his head. “No, this is my problem as an idol. You wouldn’t make sense there.”

Her heart drops. This is unbelievable. This is not the Yugyeom she knows. 

He sighs. “I’m sorry. That came out wrong. I-“

“Just go. I don't really want to look at you right now.” 

He hesitates and keeps his hand on the doorknob like he wants to say something, but his phone rings again and he leaves. 

Y/N rushes to her computer and deletes the video, but there’s no use. 100,000 people have already seen it. 

-

Y/N is having a very pleasant morning. She absolutely loves going to the studio to see the windows completely covered in spray paint. At least now it’s noticeable. Maybe this is the advertising she needs. 

She groans. Could her life get any worse? She barely has a boyfriend anymore. The least the universe could do is give her an hour of peace before the dance classes begin. 

Yugyeom hasn’t spoken to her since that night in her apartment. Two days without contact may seem short, but with a heavy situation like theirs, the lack of communication is suffocating. The worst part about waiting for him to talk to her is resisting the urge to text first. 

Maybe it’s pride, but Y/N calls it self respect. She admitted her mistake, but he still hasn’t spoken to her. He screwed up just as bad, so why is he being so childish? 

She sighs. Missing him is not going to clean the windows. With a bucket of water mixed with vinegar and a cloth in hand, she gets to work. She doesn’t exactly have the energy to add force to her strokes, but she doesn’t have a choice. 

"Hey, boss." Jia’s voice brings her to a stop.

Y/N turns. Somehow, even as she looks at them, she feels nothing. She wishes she could feel even just the slightest irritation at the sight, but she can’t. Not even if Sunhee avoids her eyes and keeps her hands pocketed in her hoodie. 

“Hi,” she says, squeezing the rag as if it would ease her mind. Water drips from her fingers and onto her feet, but she doesn't move. 

“We wanted to see if you were okay.”

Her chest burns. She licks her lips and laughs, raising her arms in the air like she’s trying to imitate a welcome sign. “What do you think?” 

Areum tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and clears her throat. She takes a step forward, and just when Y/N thinks she’s about to hug her, Areum walks past and enters the studio. Jia follows, and Sunhee comes in last. 

If Y/N could describe the breeze that passes between them as Sunhee walks, it would be like fire burning her face. Brutal, but she doesn’t know how else to feel around her. It’s not like she can smile at the very reason why Dispatch ultimately ruined her life in a week. 

That’s why when they come right back out with buckets and rags, she doesn’t know how to react. They stand next to her and wipe off the marks. 

She could only watch. She knows she should help them, but her body refuses to move. Why are they being so nice to her now? Do they feel sorry for her? Is that it? If that’s the case, she doesn’t want their pity. They could quit for all she knows, and she would not be angry. Okay, maybe a little, but that's not the point. 

Areum speaks up. “I think it’s stupid that you’re getting all this hate.”

Jia nods and reaches for the bucket. “Me too. It’s been like, what, two weeks? Week and a half? I can’t even remember. It’s old news, like, move on, already.” 

“Why…” Y/N whispers. 

Sunhee turns around. This is the first time she makes eye contact with Y/N. “I know you think I told Dispatch, but it wasn’t me.”

Her mind whirls. “What? Do you realize that doesn't make any sense at all? " 

Sunhee nods. “It doesn’t, right? But I swear I didn’t tell Dispatch. I don’t even know how to do it! " 

Before Y/N could reply, Jia steps in between them. "All done! How about we talk about this inside?” 

-

If anyone told Y/N two years ago that she would sit in the middle of the studio having a heart-to-heart with Jia, Areum, and Sunhee, she would laugh in their face. 

With everything going on lately, nothing feels real anymore. It's like she's floating around and looking at her life under a microscope. 

“You know, I’m really surprised you guys came to help me today,” Y/N says, her voice so quiet, she’s not sure they heard.

“Why wouldn’t we help?” Areum asks. “You’re our boss.”

“I don’t know, I thought you guys hated me or something.”

Y/N plays with the hem of her shirt, as if the texture of the fabric is more interesting than the conversation. She doesn’t know how to face them. She feels like a failure of a boss. Hell, she feels like a failure, period. 

“What? How could you think we hate you?” Jia asks.

Sunhee leans a little closer to add, “You are pretty rude sometimes, Jia.”

Jia pauses and nods after a moment. “You know, I totally get that.” She turns to Y/N. “I’m sorry. I never hated you, though. I think you’re pretty cool, just intimidating.” 

“Intimidating? How am I intimidating?” Y/N asks. 

“Well,” Areum says. “For starters, you’re our boss. I think it’s kind of the natural order of the universe for us to feel that way. But also because you’re a hard worker. You’re so focused on work, we never really got the chance to relate to you. You’ve always been closed off. The only time you show interest in things is when we’re interested in them too.” 

“It’s also why we were so surprised to find out you were an ahgase. You keep so many things private, it’s hard to connect with you. We never hated you, boss. We just didn’t know you,” Jia adds. 

The room is silent after that. Y/N’s mind scrambles for memories of the two years she shared with them. They’re right. She’s so used to people being against her, she assumed they were the same. She cannot rule out the times they were annoying, but that’s normal. Surely they got annoyed with her at some point. They’re only human. 

Y/N sighs. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions like that. I never gave you guys the chance to prove yourselves to me as anything other than great dancers. I should have been a better boss.”

Sunhee shakes her head. “You’re a great boss. You just need to learn to be a friend.”

“You’re right. You’re definitely right. I am too closed off. But I need to know,” Y/N faces Sunhee. “How can you say you didn’t tell Dispatch? You’re the only one who saw us.” 

“This might sound unbelievable, but I don’t snitch. Well, except to them,” Sunhee gestures to Jia and Areum. “But I swear, I didn’t tell Dispatch.”

Jia nods. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot, and the only thing that makes sense is that someone may have heard us talk about it.”

Areum taps on the floor. “I bet it’s that girl from the steakhouse.” They all turn to her. “Think about it. The first picture that went viral was them in a steakhouse. And remember when Sunhee came running to us after she saw them? We took a walk just around here and went past it. A waitress was outside by the big chalkboard menu. It could have been her.”

Y/N slouches. That does seem to make sense, but it’s also a just a guess. And even if they did confront her, what difference would it make? It’s not like she can take it all back. The damage is done. 

Jia clenches her fists. “Let’s go to her! I bet we could totally make her confess.” 

They stay seated and wait for Y/N’s signal, but she only shakes her head. “Don’t bother. It wouldn’t change anything.”

“So what are you gonna do?” Sunhee asks.

Y/N shrugs. “I don’t know.” When they slouch, she adds, “But it’s okay. I have you guys now. That makes everything better.”

-

Bad things happen all the time, but if you know where to look, you just might find a little bit of good. That's what her father always said. She didn’t know it then, but maybe his words stuck enough to push her this far. Despite their unwillingness to support her dream, it seems they were also the reason she achieved it. 

If none of this happened, she wouldn't understand how Jia, Areum and Sunhee felt about her. She might even spend the next couple of years slowly losing the strength to keep up with them. As much as she wishes none of this got so out of hand, she’s glad it brought them together. They are the perfect example of what her dad meant. 

The good in the bad. 

Her phone screen lights up, and just when she thinks it’s a text from their group chat, her heart stops. 

GMAIL: JYP Entertainment 

She screams. The room spins. Her hands shake, and she almost drops her phone. An email from JYP Entertainment? What could it be about? Is she in trouble? She already deleted the video! Instead of unlocking her phone to open the email, she calls the girls through the group chat. 

“You got an email from who?” Areum screams. 

“J-JYP Entertainment. Oh my God. What should I do?” 

“Read it!” Jia says.

"Out loud so we can hear it!” Sunhee adds. 

“Okay, okay, okay, okay.” Y/N pulls down the notification bar and takes a deep breath before tapping on the email. 

“What does it say!” Areum asks.

“Dear, Y/N. We are pleased to inform you that we are interested in hiring you as a dance teacher for the artists and trainees of JYP Entertainment. We received a recommendation for having you on our team and after researching your activities as a dance studio owner, we would like to hire you. If you are interested, visit the JYP Entertainment building on Saturday at 2:00 PM for an interview. Thank you.”

Y/N falls to the floor. She can’t believe it. Even with the words staring back at her and the girls screaming in her ear, she can’t believe it. The company her favorite group works for is interested in hiring her. Her! A low-rate dancer with a small studio. Her, even after the mess of the scandal. They want to hire her. 

“What do I do?” she whispers. 

“Go! Take the job!” Areum says. “This is what you worked so hard for!” 

And that’s when it clicks. When she uploaded the video, she wasn’t afraid of losing her career, but not once did she think about the girls losing theirs. They worked just as hard as she did. They share the same dream, the same passion. How could she be selfish enough to risk that? 

She has to take this opportunity. A part-time job at JYP? This could save all of them.

-

Y/N’s heart feels like it’s going to explode.

Standing in front of the JYP building has never felt more intense. She’s visited before, ate at the famous JYPBob, but with a new intent in mind, the building looms above her like a taunt ready to criticize her every move. 

But she can totally do this. At least that's what she keeps telling herself, anyway. So much is at stake here. She needs to do everything she can to get this job. That’s all that matters. 

“Okay, Y/N,” she mutters. “One step at a time. Just walk to the door.” 

She could see the inside through the revolving door, but it somehow looks better on the other side. The first thing she notices is the JYP logo on the wall, which glows as if it's greeting her. Two women sit behind a long marble counter with a huge stone slab in front. Y/N wonders how they managed to make it look good. This room looks like the entrance to a god’s house. There’s no way she’s worthy of standing on this floor. 

After explaining what she's there for, she follows an employee up the elevator. As they walk along the blue walls, she can only think of one thing: she might work here. One day, she could get used to walking down these halls, passing idols and giving them a smile. This could be her life. 

But first, she has to pass the interview. 

Behind this door could be the turning point of her career. She takes a deep breath. There’s no telling what could happen next, but it's okay. This is where her efforts brought her. She just hopes she drank enough apple juice. 

“Hello, you must be Y/N,” a man in a black blazer and khaki pants says as he extends his hand. “I’m Jung Wook.” 

Y/N shakes it. “Hello, it’s very nice to meet you.”

“So,” Jung Wook sits behind his desk and smiles. “you’re a special case here. We received a recommendation, and we don’t get that often. We watched some of your videos on YouTube, and we think you’re very talented.” 

“Thank you.”

“But first, tell me about yourself.” 

Here we go. 

-

The interview is a blur. With so much adrenaline running through her veins, it’s difficult to catch the details. The words roll off her tongue like she knows exactly what to say, but in reality, she has no idea if anything made sense. 

She just hopes they accept her anyway. 

After an awkward amount of bows and thank yous, Y/N opens the door to find a man sitting on the floor. He looks up. 

Yugyeom.

“Did you get the job?” he asks and stands up.

She closes the door and sighs. 

“I know you’re mad at me, but can we please talk?” he says. 

“All right.” 

She follows him around the building. Honestly, she's glad he's here. She was too nervous to pay attention to where she was going, she doesn’t remember how to get back to the front door. At least after this, Yugyeom can escort her out. 

He takes her to a dance practice room, and she swears she almost cries. It’s bigger than her entire studio, and they have more of these in one building? The lights are much brighter, it's like they flow through her and give her energy to dance. She runs to the middle of the room. 

“Makes you wanna dance, right?” he says, bringing her back to reality. 

She frowns, and all the energy the room gave her seeps from her body. She turns to him. 

“You recommended me, didn’t you?” she asks. 

He nods. “With Jaebeom-hyung’s help. He’s more persuasive. It was the least I could do after…” When she looks away, he adds, “I’m sorry I hurt you. You only wanted to fight for our relationship, but I chose to be a coward. I should’ve consulted you first.” 

She sighs and sits on the floor. “Even the floor feels better.” She looks back at him. “I should’ve talked to you too. But you were right. JYP could only protect you. I’m on my own. Denying the rumors was the safer choice, but I ruined that.”

“How did the interview go?” he asks as he takes a seat in front of her. 

She shrugs. “I don’t know. It was kind of just a blur. I don’t remember the questions or what I said, so I really can’t tell if I bombed it or not.” 

“I’m sure you did great. You’ll fit right in here.”

“If I become an official employee here, does that mean they can protect me too? The way they protect their idols?” 

Yugyeom nods. “You’d have a powerful company to take legal action against anyone who attacks you again.” 

Y/N slouches, as if the weight of the information is too heavy for her shoulders. “I need this job.”

They stay silent for a moment, like they’re waiting for someone to say something. To be honest, Y/N doesn’t know what to say. She said sorry, she took responsibility for what she did and asked about the recommendation. What more is there to say? That she misses him? With so much happening at once, she never really got the chance to think about him. 

Now that he's right in front of her, it’s like her emotions finally caught up. Sadness and anger come at once that she has to look away, but in the middle of it all is the one thing she did not expect to feel—longing. 

“I miss you,” they both say, their voices echoing and bouncing off each other like a trampoline. 

Then they laugh. She missed this, being with him without a care for anything else. To be in his presence, even when they were nothing but friends. 

“Y/N… I hope you know I didn’t just recommend you because I wanted to help you,” he says. "I want to be with you. I still do. I was angry, but I missed you anyway. Everyday.”

She meets his gaze. “I wanna be with you too, Yugyeom. But I'm afraid if I don't get the job, I won’t have the same protection as you. How would that work?” 

“I’ll protect you.”

She snickers and looks away. “You’ve always been so idealistic.”

“You’ve known me three months.”

“I’ve known you since you debuted. You’ve known me for three months.”

"Touché," he laughs. “But really. Whether you get the job or not, I’ll do what I can to protect you.”

“My knight in shining armor," she says, placing the back of her palm above her forehead like a damsel in distress.

He stands and bows, offering his hand as his other rests behind his back. "Anything for my love."

She smiles and takes his hand, which falls to her waist and pulls her closer. His eyes scan her face for any resistance, and when he finds none, he smiles.  

“I missed this,” she whispers and rests her forehead on his.

She wishes more than ever that the door is locked. 

"I love you," he says. 

Y/N pulls her head back and looks at him, like the words he spoke touched every inch of her skin. He looks at her, his eyes shining with the reflection of the lights. 

“What-“

“I know it might be too soon. We haven't been dating for a long time, but I love you. I hope I don’t scare you away.” 

She must be dreaming. She hasn't woken up yet and still needs to go to that interview. She’s imagining all this because she misses him, because she-

"I love you too." If this is a dream, she never wants to wake up. 

Before she could think further, he kisses her, and her mind shuts down. His arms wrap around her body and pull her closer than she already was. They could not waste any more distance between them. She melts into his embrace, his lips, his hands, and the sound he makes when she kisses him back. This is their reminder to each other that the world cannot touch them. It tried, and it hurt for a moment, but they found their way back to each other. 

He walks them to the wall and guides her so her back rests gently. But they don’t pull away. They need this. They’ve been needing this, because the last time didn’t go so well. 

For someone who hasn’t had a lot of experience, Yugyeom is a fantastic kisser. 

When they pull away, their faces remain close, like going further apart is wrong. 

Y/N smiles because this is real. She knows because no dream could ever compare to him. 

-

It’s been at least two months since Yugyeom went live, when he told the world Y/N waswasst a friend. Nobody believed him, of course. Just as no one believed him when he denied the claims once more. But tonight, he’s going to right his wrongs. 

Y/N is great as a new dance teacher in the company. The trainees seem to really like her because she’s his girlfriend. They think it's cool that she met him at a fan sign and managed to win his heart. If only the rest of the world were as accepting as they were. 

“Hi, guys. Did you miss me? I missed you,” he says, watching the comments fly up in a swift. 

It’s always hard to read them, but he manages to catch a few. A lot of them are ‘I MISSED YOU’s and ‘ARE YOU OKAY’s, which he always finds so sweet. 

“I know I’ve been gone for some time, but I have a good reason. I’ve been taking care of my girlfriend. Yes, she's my girlfriend. I know what the news said, and that was my fault. I was scared. But that was because I was afraid of what you might think. I know a lot of you won't like this, but it’s the truth. And I came on live because I wanted to tell you guys on my own instead of some news article.”

He chuckles as he reads more of the messages. His basic English skills can catch the supportive ones. He’s surprised to see a lot of the Korean comments following the same theme. It takes a great deal of the weight from his chest.

“I’m glad to see some positive comments on here, but I know there are still some who don’t like this. But I’m here to ask all of you, as my fans, as my best friends, to respect us. You don’t have to like it, but at least respect it. I’m… I’m really in love with her. We are all human and we all fall in love. You wouldn’t want the people you care about to restrict you from doing what your heart wants, right? We all deserve this freedom. I deserve this freedom. So I hope you guys can be okay with that. Because you guys mean a lot to me.” 

He takes a deep breath and smiles at the comments. 

"Hello, Brazil," he laughs. “Well that’s all for now, guys. I’ll come back soon, I promise. I’ve missed you all. Goodnight everyone!” 

He lays in bed and takes a deep breath, the weight of the past few months slowly leaving his chest. He did the right thing. Not everyone is going to be happy with the news, but he’s happy with Y/N. That’s all that matters. 

Together, they will face the hate, but they will not let it touch them. 

-

“That’s all the boxes, right?” Y/N asks as Sunhee sits at the truck driver’s seat. 

She nods. “Yeah, I counted. Get in.” 

Y/N does as she’s told and sighs. Her heart falls. She already said goodbye to the studio at least five times, but she can’t help but get emotional. That little room was the beginning of her career. Sure, she has to move on and continue the road that very room started, but the emotional value is too much. 

It’s why it took one year of convincing her to finally move to a larger space. The new studio is still in Hongdae, which is nice because they’re familiar with the area, but it’s much larger. It’s almost like JYP dance practice rooms: spacious with the most beautiful bright lights. 

“Can I ask you something?” Y/N asks. 

“What’s up?” 

“What does it mean when a guy doesn’t reply to you for over 24 hours?” 

Sunhee snickers. “Normally, I would say it means he’s mad at you, but in your case, your idol boyfriend must be exhausted from his world tour. Give him time to sleep and relax. You can make out in the studio when he’s ready.” 

Y/N sighs. “I just don’t get why he wouldn’t text me a simple ‘I’m home’, you know? It doesn’t take much energy to type it. He can even just say it, and his phone will send it! A world tour doesn’t mean he can just forget his girlfriend.” 

“He hasn’t forgotten you, Y/N. He’s crazy about you, and it’s already been a year. That says a lot.”

“How can you be so sure? What if he’s tired of me?” 

“Just trust me. I’m sure you’ll see him again very soon.” 

Y/N nods and takes a deep breath. She looks out through the window to distract herself. She’s pretty bummed out that her boyfriend can’t do something as simple as send her a text. 

Especially on her birthday, 

When Sunhee pulls over, Y/N gets off right away to bring the remaining boxes into the new studio, but Jia and Areum run out immediately and block her path. 

“Oh, good. We’re gonna need the help. These speakers are heavy,” she says and walks to the back of the truck. 

“Wait!” Areum says and gently pulls Y/N’s arm. “Aren’t you hungry? Why don’t we go inside to get some food first?” 

Y/N pauses. “There’s food inside?” 

Jia scowls at Areum before smiling back at their boss. “Yeah! We ordered some take out because we were starving. Setting up is a lot of work! We waited for you guys so we could eat together.” 

“Okay, but there better not be an odor. We don’t want the first problem in our new place to be a stench.”

“What are we? Stupid?” Areum says, laughing a little too loudly, which earns her a slap in the arm from Jia. 

Y/N walks past them and pushes the door open only to be greeted by a very dark studio. 

“God, where are the lights here? Why did you guys turn them off?” she says as she feels for the switch on the walls. 

When the lights turn on, she takes a moment to adjust to the change before she realizes her friends are standing in the middle with Kim Yugyeom. 

“Happy Birthday!” they say in terrible unison, but the effort makes her smile anyway. 

“Oh my God!” 

Despite the bare room and boxes at the side, the table in the center with cake and take out food makes up for it. And Yugyeom. That ass. She walks toward them. 

“Is that apple juice?” she asks, pointing to a clear plastic pitcher. 

They nod, and she laughs. She turns to Yugyeom and glares. 

“I’m sorry I ignored your-“ he starts, but Y/N interrupts him with a combination of hits on his chest.

“You! Could! Have! Texted!” she yells. 

He takes her hands to stop the attacks and pulls her into a hug. “I missed you too.” 

She buries her face in his chest and takes in his scent. Before their relationship, she never thought she would be the clingy type, but Yugyeom proved her otherwise. There’s something about him that makes her feel safe and at ease, that being away from him for too long makes her want to hop on the next plane to wherever he is. 

“Alright, guys, I know this is a birthday surprise, but I wasn’t kidding when I said we were starving,” Jia says. 

Y/N pulls away and smiles at the girls. “Thank you. Really. A year ago, I never thought I would ever say this, but I love you guys. I’m so grateful to have all of you.” She turns to Yugyeom. “And you. Thank you for taking time out of your rest to come here. I know you must be tired, so get some sleep after this, okay? Now. Let’s eat!” 

They cheer, and together, they celebrate. 

-

There is no way Yugyeom could afford this place. 

“Look, this guy is really desperate to sell this apartment! I kinda feel bad for him,” Yugyeom whispers. 

“You are not buying this apartment because you pity the agent. It’s probably only a trick he does for rich guys like you to give in!” 

“Yeah, but look! Let’s put that aside for a moment. This place looks really nice. Admit it. You’d live here.” 

She sighs and takes another glance around the empty living room. “Yeah, but I could never afford it. But this is you we’re talking about. Look at this price! This would be a total waste for when you’re away on tour. Who’s gonna keep it clean?” 

He smiles and glances at the real estate agent who peeks from one of the rooms. The man blushes and hides back. 

“That’s why I want you to move in with me,” he says. 

Y/N’s breath hitches. “W-what?” 

“Think about it. I could send money every month when I’m away so I can pay half the rent. You’re right. I could never afford this place, but only on my own. You’re really successful now, with income from your studio, YouTube channel, and JYP,” he takes her hands. “What do you say? Will you live with me?” 

She takes another look at the apartment. Her imagination fills the room with a couch, television, plants, bookshelves, and an image of them having dinner together at a table. He makes a good point. Not to mention, they don’t see each other at the JYP building as often as they’d like. Having one home could change that. 

It could change their entire relationship, but since when did change every scare her? 

She squeezes his hands and smiles. “Okay.” 

Yugyeom pulls her close and kisses her, not an ounce of shame in the real estate agent’s presence. Why would it matter?

He’s home. 

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Writing Commission - Where I Want To Be - Chapter One

And here we are with chapter one of my latest finished commission piece Where I Want To Be! This is an AllEraserMic story dealing with anxiety, past traumas, and making it through a rough day with the people we love supporting us. I hope you guys enjoy! 

(This will be posted to my AO3 after my suspension is lifted on October 12th.)

                                                        ⁂

Summary: Yamada Hizashi, better known as the Voice Hero Present Mic, is a busy man. He has classes and students to teach English to, an agency that always seemed to be in the middle of a disaster to help deal with, and a radio station that was one bad show away from being cancelled to run. He doesn’t have time for a bad day triggered by nightmares and fears and anxieties that just never seem to stop.

Luckily for him, his partners are Aizawa Shouta and Yagi Toshinori and neither of those two are very good at leaving Hizashi to suffer alone.

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia    

Relationship: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic/Yagi Toshinori | All Might, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Characters: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori | All Might

Rating: Teen Audiences

Word Count: 29,323

Transaction Amount: $200 (USD)

WARNINGS FOR: Past childhood abuse (both emotional and physical) and anxiety attacks verging on panic to PTSD episodes. Please read with caution if needed. 

                                                      ⁂ 

             Check out my writing commission information here!                    Pledge to my Patreon to get exclusive content!                                Or buy me a coffee on Ko-Fi!

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                                            Chapter Index

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Rapid, quick breaths were smothered against small, trembling hands, trying to muffle as much sound as possible as words creeped under the door and, “I told you that he was too dangerous! We never should have brought him here!” 

A change years later and years ago and hands, larger but still shaking with terror that would never be gone, clutched at a chest that gasped for breath as sweet words were whispered to him and, “It’s better this way, don’t you think? So nice and quiet -- so safe.” 

Footsteps that were never particularly hurried but sounded as if they were from giants and monsters. 

The dull, muted sound of bruised and scratched leather straining against equally mistreated metal, the sounds so soft and yet louder than screaming. 

Reaching hands that had promised safely, but had only ever given him pain and then silence and it was never anything but silence and he couldn’t scream-

Yamada Hizashi sucked in a slow, trembling breath, eyes squeezed shut and heart pounding quick enough to be felt throughout his entire body as he tried to focus on the blankets and sheets pooled around his hips as his fingers scrapped against the edges of his jaw and the curve of his cheeks, digging into rough, cracked leather and rusty metal with jagged edges that caught on the tips of his fingers and hurt-

“‘Zashi?” Just like that, after hearing a single sleepy murmur, Hizashi sucked in a ragged, uneven breath as he felt imagined leather and metal disappear for sore, scratched skin. A panicked look around the room showed cracked, broken walls at the edges of his vision replaced in favor of soft, deep blue painted walls that were filled with pictures and posters of all types. 

Another look showed torn, ragged curtains no longer over the busted window, but instead blackout curtains that were teased open to show the early stirring of dawn outside a pristine window with not a crack in sight. Scratchy sheets and blankets had vanished in favor of something soft and smooth and filled with lingering warmth. 

The adrenaline coursing through him vanished in half a heartbeat, Hizashi already starting to feel the drop as he fell back down to lay on the soft, large bed that was sturdy and not about to fall apart at the slightest kick. He managed to suck in another ragged breath, forcing his eyes to stay open and look at his room instead of that room.

Altogether Hizashi gave himself ten seconds to let panic utterly consume him before he carefully and slowly shoved it back down. Ten seconds, plus one more, and Hizashi was feeling along his face again, fingertips sliding against his jaw and cheeks and working over wispy scars that could only just be felt by his touch. 

It was only an afterthought that he noticed a warm arm sliding under his hiked-up shirt and pressing against his bare stomach; rough, callused fingertips pressed against his side sharp enough to almost hurt. He probably would have complained if the hard, grounding touch wasn’t exactly what he needed, the touch doing such a good job of reminding him that he was awake and not back there because he would never be back there again never again he would rather die-

“Breathe.” The word was muffled and soft, spoken right into his ear at just loud enough of a volume that he could hear it without his hearing aids. It was the low, familiar tone that the word was spoken in that had him sucking in a breath more than the word itself, Hizashi not fighting as he was pulled in closer. Whoever said Aizawa Shouta was shit at comfort had never spent longer than ten seconds with the man, Hizashi firmly decided.

A tap to the divot of his jaw had him jolting for a moment before he was right back to his list, mentally ticking it off and, right, no leather straps and no rusted metal. A deep breath that turned into a yawn had him stretching his jaw wide, the movement easy and smooth without anything in the way to hold him back.

A double tap to the side of his neck -- close to his throat but never dare touching -- had him pushing out another breath before he was dredging up the edges of his quirk, clicks and whistles leaving at ranges that were either inaudible or only just loud enough to be heard. It got a grumble of complaint from the man beside him, but if anything, the grip still around Hizashi only tightened. 

Hizashi barely focused on the warm skin pressed against his own and the soft breaths that curled around his jaw and neck with warm, heated air. Instead he could only focus on the taps on the side of his neck with soft, careful fingers, counting him through his checks. Three taps for humming, four taps for volume sliding, and five taps for his quirk to finally start working through his entire voice. 

Six taps to show he could freely speak and, as always, six taps and Hizashi felt himself go completely limp like his strings had been cut, gasping for breath as he felt inaudible words pressed against his skin and a hand on his chest pressing down, forcing him to focus on the fact that, as a living human being who was still alive, he needed to actually breathe instead of gasping for air. 

The only change in a routine that was years old were the thinner, longer fingers that so carefully brushed long, tangled hair out of his face before tapping at the edges of an ear, and, right, no hearing aids. Hizashi should probably fix that. Thankfully the men in his life were perfect and it only took a single nod before Yagi Toshinori -- All Might -- was helping him with his hearing aids. All Might. Because he and Shouta were dating All Might. 

What was even better was that they were dating Toshinori who was so sweet it was almost sickening. It was a reminder that was just enough to tip him over into finally focusing fully and completely back in the present. “-need anything? Medicine? Tea? Water? Snacks?”

Toshinori’s panicked questions -- really the man was so sweet -- were cut off by Shouta’s sharp snort of laughter. “Keep going like that and you’re going to inflate his ego and spoil him at the same time. And between the two of you? There’s enough ego in this building.” 

“Excuse you.” Right. Hizashi could focus on banter and jokes, edges of fear shoved away to the back of his mind. “I’ll have you know that it’s not ego when everyone knows we’re the best at what we do.” The dual sounds of laughter, one rough and quiet and the other a sharp bark of surprise, had Hizashi more thankful than ever that he rarely, if ever, had to wake up alone. 

“If ‘being the best at what you do’ involves being the center of attention, then I suppose I can’t disagree,” Shouta sighed as if suffering some great defeat, Hizashi unable to muster up the words that would ever describe how thankful he was that Shouta knew when to keep joking; when to keep talking. 

“You’re so mean, Shou-chan,” Hizashi pouted, halfheartedly trying to sit up and completely unsurprised when Shouta’s grip didn’t so much as loosen. If anything, it tightened, Hizashi sucking in a slow breath at the wonderful grounding sensation. “Why are you so mean to the men who love you?”

“It keeps you struggling to meet my approval, so you’ll never leave my side.” Shouta’s tone was as dry as a summer heat wave and Hizashi couldn’t help but to delight in it, noticing that Toshinori looked like he was trying to hold back his own laughter. Really, the man seemed to be far too awake for such an early hour. 

Hizashi picked up Shouta’s wickedly dry tone, turning it into something playfully accusing as he ‘glared’ up at the other man, “And, excuse you, Mr. Number One Hero, just why were you up and out of bed before the sun is even fully up?”

“Oh! Well, ah…” All Might may have been brash and bold and impossible to fluster, but Yagi Toshinori? It was too easy to fluster him and Hizashi loved it. “I was actually- Well, I thought-” The man floundered, finally gesturing towards a silver tray sitting on the edge of the bed that was set up with what looked like tea and a few plates of breakfast foods. “Breakfast in bed?” 

Hizashi stared at the tray and everything on it, finally looking over at Shouta. The man was still wrapped around him and looked half-asleep, but his expression was much the same as Hizashi’s; vaguely irritated. Really, though, how the hell had they managed to end up in a relationship with the sweetest guy on the planet. It was enough of a conundrum that Hizashi was almost fully distracted from… earlier. 

“What the hell, yo, we talked about this. You can’t just- You can’t just go and be all sweet like that! We need warning before you go and make us feel all mushy like this!” Hizashi shifted to finally sit up fully and properly, doing nothing to hide his smile when Toshinori was quick to help him.

His smile fell, though, with Toshinori’s next words, “Shall I take your dramatics as an escape from talking about what just happened?” The look he was given was way too knowing, Shouta’s not much better and damn the fact Hizashi had fallen in love with two incredible pro heroes who were too smart for their own good. 

“What happened? Psh, please, Toshi, it was just a nightmare. Those are a dime a dozen!” The American phrase did nothing to erase Toshinori’s frown, which, yeah. He was definitely worried. It didn’t help when Shouta sat up next, hand moving to cup Hizashi’s cheek and rub against an almost invisible scar. “I’m- I’m fine.” 

“I really would love to believe that,” Toshinori sighed, sounding regretful as his hand cupped Hizashi’s other cheek, thumb brushing away the feeling of wetness. “But you’re crying, sweetheart.” 

“Oh.” Hizashi went still between their grips, thoughts feeling like they were both screaming and yet so very quiet. It was an unnerving combination that had him struggling to keep his breathing even, knowing the two would worry even more if he gave in to the urge to have a complete and total mental breakdown. 

It had been years and he should have been over what had happened so long ago. He was a pro hero for fuck’s sake. He had faced more terrifying villains on his daily patrols than he had in childhood. He shouldn’t be waking up from a nightmare an immediately crying like a little kid.

Fighting for his composure, and barely putting up a fight at all considering he knew how it would all end, Hizashi offered up a weak, “Haven’t you heard? I’m an absolute crybaby. I cry over papercuts.” 

“I’ve noticed.” Toshinori’s smile was too warm and too knowing. For as much as it helped settle something in Hizashi, it felt like it burned him just as badly. “Unlike some others I could name.” Here he shot a very pointed look at Shouta, Hizashi unable to help a startled snort of laughter at the action. “You’re a very emotional person, sweetheart, but you tend to cry only when it doesn’t matter or when it matters far too much.”

“Still earning that title of Number One, huh?” Hizashi didn’t dare close his eyes, he knew far too well what he could see if he were to do that, but he did look away from the two. He had been dealing with his nightmares for years, but the shame never seemed to change. “Sorry. I probably woke you two up, and neither of you get the amount of rest you should.”

There was a beat of silence. A single moment where everything was silent and Hizashi feared before Toshinori let out a scoff that could rival Shouta at his most annoyed. “Are you- He is, isn’t he?” A glance up showed Toshinori was looking between him and Shouta, Hizashi not sure if the man was playfully upset or actually upset. “Did you just apologize for having a nightmare that caused you a traumatic and unavoidable reaction that you have absolutely no control over?”

Hizashi glanced to Shouta for help, the man staring at him with lidded eyes and a lazy smirk that all but screamed abandonment. “I mean,” Hizashi finally managed after a moment, swallowing nervously, clearing his throat, and trying to muster up a winning smile. “I wouldn’t say it quite like that, really.” 

“You wouldn’t say it at all because it’s the truth,” Shouta said, Hizashi flicking his gaze to Shouta and giving him a dirty look that he hoped the other man felt. It was a shame that he would have to destroy the man for betraying him at last. “Hizashi.”

“Shouta,” Hizashi snapped back, flinching at hearing the sharp bite in his tone that sang with the very edges of his quirk. The only thing that kept him from spiraling was the flash of red from Shouta’s eyes, serious and calm and locked on him. Hizashi really was too lucky when it came to the men he loved. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” Shouta sighed, finally sitting up properly, Hizashi wincing as his hearing aids picked up every sharp crack Shouta’s joints and spine made just by sitting up. Judging by Toshinori’s wavering hands and fretful expression, he could hear the same sounds and was just as worried. “Quit it. You two act like this every morning I so much as twitch.”

Hizashi choked down a laugh, not sure if he was more amused by Shouta’s adorable morning grumpiness or the fact that Toshinori actually looked like he had been scolded. It was- It was good. It was normal. It reminded him of the present where there were warm hands and soft smiles and not… there. 

“Hizashi.” Toshinori’s soft voice captured his attention in only a way that he and Shouta had ever been able to manage. “Don’t apologize for this.” Mouth already half-open to argue, Hizashi frowned as Toshinori hooked a finger under his chin and pushed up until he closed his mouth with a small snap. 

There was a beat of quiet where all three of them didn’t say a word. While Shouta tensed up beside him and seemed ready for Hizashi to completely lose his mind and his cool and have a complete and utter panic attack, Hizashi only felt… insulted. He felt insulted and that adorable, incredible bastard was smirking at him as his fingers shifted to rub against his cheek. 

“You don’t need to apologize for bad days, sweetheart,” Toshinori said softly, leaning in to brush his lips against the cheek he had been wiping away tears from. Hizashi might have been embarrassed if he had possessed even so much as a shred of shame left. As it was, he leaned into the touch at once, breath stuttering out of him in what felt like relief -- or maybe absolution was the better word. 

God. He didn’t know what he would have ever done if it wasn’t for Shouta and Toshinori. He probably would have ended up dead after biting off more than he could chew after first becoming a sidekick. As it was, though, Shouta had been there every second Hizashi had needed him, and Toshinori, for as new as it all still was between them, fit in far too well. 

“Hizashi,” Toshinori spoked quietly, drawing his attention out of his thoughts as easy as anything. “Do you want to stay home-?”

“No!” The answer burst out of him before he could even try to stop it, quirk stirring around at the edges as Shouta’s arm snuck around his waist and gripped him tightly. Neither of the two so much as flinched, Toshinori only giving him a long, searching look. 

“You wouldn’t be the first teacher to need a day of rest,” Toshinori said, but Hizashi could hear the defeat in his voice and feel it in the way his touch lightened. “Then again, I suppose neither Shouta nor I set very good examples on resting.” 

Hizashi finally laughed, anxiety still coursing through him and fear digging under his skin, “Of course you two don’t. Some of the worst fights of your lives and you two just go right back to work as soon as possible -- which is why I’ll be fine. This is just some nightmare, after all, and it’s not even a new one. This happens every so often. I know how to deal with it.” 

And if it were any other day Hizashi would have had nothing against lying in bed and letting his lovers spoil him and keep him safe and calm. As it was, though, he was a pro hero English teacher and radio DJ who had work to do. What’s more, Shouta and Toshinori each had their own work to do, too. A nightmare wasn’t an excuse for all three of them to blow off work that was far too important to ignore.

Besides, work was a routine. Routines could be good. It reminded him that he was no longer… there. What’s more was that it kept him busy, with no time to linger on thoughts and memories and whispers that brushed at the back of his mind. Keeping busy and moving meant he couldn’t hear the soft voice telling him that isn’t that so much better, Hizashi-

“Fine.” Toshinori’s sudden movement had Hizashi startling, unable to even muster up a reply before the tray full of tea and breakfast foods was placed on his lap. “But that means taking care of yourself and eating something- Don’t even think about it.” Toshinori’s gaze snapped to Shouta, who had no doubt been about to flee because getting him to eat in the mornings was like getting Nemuri to wear sensible clothing when in public. Impossible. 

Shouta, as expected, was disgruntled and complaining at once, Hizashi letting himself fall quiet between them. While the normalcy of watching the two argued helped, he still could feel his heart tripping over itself, barely able to withstand the weight of fear and memories that pressed down around him; suffocating him. He could feel rusted metal and frayed leather digging into his jaw an across his cheeks, keeping him silent.

It was going to be a bad day, Hizashi decided to himself. Which was… It wasn’t fine, not by any stretch of the imagination, but he could manage it. It wouldn’t be his first bad day, after all, and he had dealt with what would come next before.

He had dealt with it all before, after all; the urge to clam up and go completely quiet in fear of the wrong person hearing him, the desire to scream and yell as loud as he could to prove that he could, the phantom sensation of metal and leather digging into him, the racing fear spreading through his veins, and even the whispers of memories and voices that had never left him. It would be bad, but he could deal with it.

As far as he was concerned, he would act as if it was just a normal day. Even if he wanted to crawl into a corner and hide and wait for it to be over, he couldn’t do that. Even if his stomach twisted and turned and rejected the very idea of a cup of tea, let alone anything solid, Hizashi knew he couldn’t just blow the day off and hide away and scream about how unfair life could be.

He had gone through bad days before and he had work to do. He had students to help and teach, he had his agency relying on him to help their country be a safe place, and he had his radio show out there reminding people that the world wasn’t all bad things and villains.

His boys were sweet to worry about him, but it would be fine. He would be fine. And if he wasn’t, just like he never truly was, then that didn’t matter. 

Present Mic had work to do.

[shnuggletea]

How about 16 x 75? Inuyasha and Kagome

16 plus 75 Prison AU and sharing a bed? We getting dirty now?? Okay, so Inuyasha x Kagome will be a nice change. Let’s see what you guys think and if you like it, I’ll continue it. Actually, kinda want to continue it anyway, it was A LOT of fun!! And I still have a lot more in my head to write for it so really this is just a snippet. Thank you for the ask @knowall7k, I really love this now lol. Here we go!!

Cell Mates

The tiny room had small stains on the floor and walls while the table before her wobbled with the slightest touch. It didn’t take much to figure out what sort of things happened in this room and it had she shaking the metal folding chair she was pushed into nearly an hour ago. She never should have gotten involved in those protests to end the internment camps. It would definitely not help her now.

Waiting was part of the game and secretly she hoped someone would soon enter and tell her to go home. After all, she’d been in her legal rights at those protests and she had done nothing wrong now. That is, nothing wrong if they didn’t look too close but even she wasn’t sure how much she had done...and how much she had screwed herself royally.

When the only door in the room opened, a stout man in a wrinkled suit walking in, and shut right after, her heart dropped into her toes. 

“Ms. Higurashi…”

“Doctor. Dr. Higurashi…”

“My name is detective Haims. I’d like to go over the events you...witnessed earlier this evening?” 

Setting a thick file before him, the detective looked down to hide his grin. Something Kagome caught and it had her stomach turning. 

“You were found with the victim, his blood all over your hands…”

“Yes, but I’m a Doctor. And I was there because he’s my friend...”

This time, he let her see his sneer, and it grew as he watched her squirm. “Funny, as a Doctor, I’m surprised you haven’t asked me how your patient is doing?”

She was caught because she knew exactly how the patient was doing. The look on the detective’s face didn’t help either. There was nothing she could say and her throat was sealed up with too much saliva even if she did. 

“He survived. Doing really well actually. Thanks to you.”

The anxiety she had lessened, finding the back of her chair instead of holding herself rigidly. “He’s okay?”

“Yeah. But you knew that, didn’t you? You’re very talented.”

“I just do what I can…”

“Now, he claims he was shot in the heart?”

“In the chest, yes.” ‘Actually, he was shot near his heart’, she thought, ‘if he’d been shot in the heart, he’d be dead’. 

“So you confirm that? You confirm that a,” he opened and glanced at the name in the file, “Hojo Akitoki was shot, in the chest, and that you, Kagome Higurashi, took life-saving actions as a doctor?”

‘Something didn’t feel right.’ She thought. “Yes.”

“Good. That’s what I have here from Mr. Akitoki as well. And that’s what this statement says if you could just sign it.”

Pen poised, she skimmed over the typed paper and he waited patiently. If she was looking for a trap in the words, she wouldn’t find one. It read everything that happened, there was no trick in the wording or anything. 

A fast scribble and he was on his feet at her side. “On your feet, Higurashi. You’re under arrest.”

“Wait, what??! Why?! I didn’t do anything…”

“Because Mr. Akitoki has no wounds. No marks, holes, bruises. It’s as if he was never shot but we know he was. So either he’s a demon or you are.”

The color drained from her face and he grinned as he watched. He had her now. Her blood ran cold, she had messed up, royally. “Look, detective…”

“Hands behind your back.”

Her greatest fears were coming to life. Ones she had for years and had been so careful. “I’m not a demon, I swear!”

“Shut the hell up, Monster.”

“Just ask Hojo! He’ll tell you I’m not a de…”

When she still didn’t shut up, he hit her as hard as he could, backhanding her. She felt the skin of his hand cut against her teeth, her mouth still open when he struck her. Now in shock, the pain exploding in her cheek and eye, she had no words. Her brain was frozen in fear from the brutality. 

“Mr. Akitoki is the son of Senator Akitoki. You know the one who supported the anti-demon movement for the last ten years?! Don’t expect any help from your so-called friend. Should’ve drunk his blood when you had the chance!”

She stumbled, shoved harshly along now. Out of the room but far from free, face after face held a glare or disgust as she passed. The detective took several ‘high fives’ as he passed, the atmosphere completely different between them in the same hall. 

When they turned down another hall, a rusty door at the end of it, she finally got her wits about her. “Wait, where are you taking me?”

“I think you know the answer to that.”

She did and now her heart pounded painfully with horror-filled panic. “You can’t! You can’t take me there!! I’m not a demon! They’ll eat me alive if you take me there!!!”

“I bet they’ll eat a sweet thing like you regardless. But that’s where you’re going and if you know what’s good, you’ll shut UP! And GET IN THE VAN!!!”

Door opened wide, she struggled in his hold. He laughed, loving how she was still dumb enough to fight before throwing her inside. The ‘van’ had benches along the side with an armed guard at the very back. The gun he held wasn’t a joke and he had it aimed at her from the start. 

There was no indication of male or female with the guard inside the van, the heavy armor and black helmet gave them anonymity. She could still see the nervous shift in the guard’s movements and so could detective Haims. 

“She’s leashed, no worries.” 

He assured the guard, the cuffs cutting into her wrists and clamping her gifts. She knew what they were as soon as he put them on, she could feel it and knew the stories. The means taken to suppress demons was barbaric at best.

She thought the guard didn’t believe his coworker, because he got up and grabbed the cuffs that held her hands firmly at her lower back. But then he pulled her up from the floor by them. Her scream from the agony he caused was ignored as he sat her down on a bench and latched her cuffs to something behind her. 

“Have fun. And make friends!” Detective Haims taunted before slamming the door shut behind. 

Now in darkness, she only had the hum of the wheels on the road to comfort her. Which they didn’t. 

                                                            oOo

Her cuffs were removed once inside but something wasn’t right about this place. The thick concrete walls were suffocating as if the air was pumped in from somewhere else instead of flowing in naturally. The place was completely sealed up and not even a breeze could penetrate. 

It felt as if there was something pressing on her chest. It wasn’t painful and it was slight but it was enough for her to notice. Maybe she was getting sick. She certainly would be soon. Everyone had a general idea of what the demon camps were like. They were like the prisons back before the reform. There was no leaving once in unless lifeless. With it taking so long for most demons to die and the overcrowding a few years ago, the purge of 06 had many demons leaving their imprisonment in body bags. 

All of this was done to them by simple humans like her and here she was getting tossed in with them? All she had done was save some lives and kept to herself as much as possible. Her protests years were in her past, doing many back in college when she didn’t have a career to concern herself with. 

The guard with her now was female but she didn’t go easy on her. The worst was the cavity searches. Kagome knew they could and should lube the long instrument they used. But the sneer on the guard’s face told her it was intentional. As was the chuckle the burly woman released when she squirmed from the uncomfortable pressure. 

At least they gave her something to wear, her clothes stripped from her and probably burned. A pair of white scrubs was given to her and it was easy to pretend this was a dream. That she had fallen asleep in the break room at work even if the scrubs she wore now were over-starched compared to her own. 

Two guards escorted her and as they passed the other, very much full, cells she was called after. 

“Hey Baby!!”

“Look over here, let me see your face!”

She ignored the rest after that, keeping her gaze in front of her. One thing she couldn’t help but notice, besides the sheer number of creatures in the place, was the rainbow of colors. Everyone had a different colored uniform from hers. Which was why she took notice to one call and what it could possibly mean.

“LOOK! We got a WHITE!!!”

There was excitement in the air that she didn’t like. Never once had she agreed with the treatment of demons in this or other countries, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t afraid now enclosed with so many of them. Just like humans, there were good and bad demons and these encampments didn’t differentiate. Or care if they ripped another demon to pieces, one less for them to worry about. 

Everyone knew the purge was handled by other demons, ones promised freedom for their work but double-crossed. Was she now imprisoned with anyone involved in that? It was possible, she had been young but demons lived a long time. Another reason the public feared them. 

The guard before her came to a halt and opened a cage while the one behind her shoved her in. It was dark, dawn still several hours away and it was ‘lights out’ apparently. Even with all the voices calling out to and about her, the sound of the bars slamming shut was deafening. Just inside her new home, with only a sheet and a single thin pillow in her hands, it was hard not to feel it all crashing down on her now. But then her bed in the corner moved and spoke. 

“Hey...HEY!!!”

It flew past her in a blur of white and red. Palms smacked the iron bars again and again right behind her while her brain struggled to keep up.

“Hey, Fuckers! Don’t leave her in here!! This cell is occupied!!!”

Glancing back, she took in the man that stood behind her cursing, but all she could make out was the wild and long white hair as it curtained his face and back.

“Yeah,” called back one of the guards, “and now it’s a double room! Enjoy your snack!”

So she was this man’s snack? Fear that had never really left renewed, racing up her spine and making her nauseous. This was where and how she was going to die? It was far from what she imagined for herself but who really imagined their death?

Slowly, the man calmed and turned to her. Her breath caught in her throat when glowing, gold eyes bore into hers. They didn’t stay for long, going down her body instead and taking her in. She didn’t know what was worse, her fear of her impending death or the VERY good looking man that now looked her over harshly.

“Judas Priest, they’re putting weaklings in here now?! How the hell did you even get caught??” 

Kagome had to stop herself from smacking the guy but did nothing to hide her irritation of him. “You don’t know me! Stop acting like you’re so smart!”

One of his brows twerked up towards his hairline, the dark hair contrasting greatly with his other locks. Then he faced her full, quickly backing her up to the cold, hard wall of the cell. Her hands flew out in a foolish effort to keep him back but he did stop once her palms touched his chest.

“It doesn’t take much to know an idiot when I see one. Damn White talking back to me like she’s a Red like me? Clearly, you’re a fucking tool so be smart and keep your mouth shut unless you really want someone here to eat you.” He left her to cower in her place between the bars and the wall, cornered in more ways than one. “There’s only one bed. You can sleep on the floor.”

Maybe there was a way to salvage this? This guy was her roommate for some unknown reason and length of time. It would be bad if they weren’t even nice to one another right?

“I’m..I’m Kagome, by the way.”

“Feh, and I don’t give a shit.”

The single bed squeaked as he fell to it, the conversation and any possible ones in the future squashed. She probably should try and keep to herself from now on. God, how long would she have to do that? How long was she going to be trapped in this nightmare?

Dropping to the floor, she kept to her corner. Tossing her pillow, Kagome laid down in her corner to sleep like a dog. Covering her mouth with both palms while she wept herself to sleep.

Well? That’s all for now, let me know if I should bother to keep it going!

[bittysvalentines]

Careful Fear and Dead Devotion

To: @happyzimm

From: @doggernaut /RabbitRunnah

Rating: T, for mentions of alcohol.

Relationship: Jack Zimmermann/Eric Bittle

Characters: Jack Zimmermann, Eric Bittle, Bad Bob Zimmermann, Kent Parson, original child character

Tags: Jack Zimmermann, Zimbits, Jack Zimmermann character study

Happy Valentine’s Day, @happyzimm! I hope you enjoy this little Jack Zimmermann character study. I tried to incorporate some of the other things you asked for as well.

i.

Jack Zimmermann is five years old, and his feet don’t touch the ground.

He’s sitting in a hard, plastic chair at a table for two while Papa waits in line to order doughnuts. There are two Papas in this doughnut shop — the one standing in line, and the one on the poster behind the counter.

The Papa in line is wearing his home clothes: jeans, a t-shirt, running shoes. The Papa on the wall is wearing work clothes — his Pens jersey but not his helmet — and holding a doughnut decorated with black and yellow sprinkles.

Even though the real Papa’s back is turned to him, it feels like he’s watching Jack.

When Maman takes him to get doughnuts after his swim lesson she always takes him to the shop across the street from the rec center, the one with yellow tables and the smiling man behind the counter who always hands Jack his chocolate old-fashioned doughnut and cinnamon sugar doughnut hole before he orders. The one that does not have a picture of Papa on the wall.

But Maman is working in California — Jack has never been to California, but he knows it’s a place people go to work, because Papa goes there too — so Papa had to take Jack to his swim lesson today. Papa doesn’t know Maman always takes Jack to the other doughnut shop, and when he told Papa this is the wrong one it was too late. They were already here.

The boy behind the counter is much younger than the man who works at the other doughnut shop. He must be friends with Papa because he greets him by name and talks to him longer than he talked to the other people in line. Papa knows a lot of people.

“Told you that wouldn’t take long, Jacky.” Papa sets a sprinkle doughnut with white icing on a paper napkin in front of Jack and opens his chocolate milk for him.

Jack frowns and picks at the black and yellow sprinkles on the doughnut. He doesn’t like the colors, or the way they feel in his teeth when he chews them.

“What’s wrong?” Papa asks. “Not hungry?”

Jack is hungry. He’s always hungry after his swim lesson. He picks off a teeny tiny piece of doughnut — a part that isn’t touching white icing or colored sprinkles — and sticks it in his mouth. He eats the entire cake part of the doughnut this way while Papa eats his maple bar and an apple fritter. When he’s finished, all that’s left is a ring of sticky icing and sprinkles.

“All finished?” Papa asks when he notices Jack is no longer eating. “Do you want another?”

Jack thinks. It would be rude to ask for another doughnut, but Papa is offering. “Can I have chocolate?” he asks.

“Hey, Paulie!” Papa’s voice is loud in the mostly-empty shop as he waves to get the attention of the guy behind the counter. “Can I get a chocolate doughnut for my boy?”

Paulie comes around to their table and hands the doughnut to Jack. Jack whispers a “thank you” as Papa hands Paulie some money and tells him to “keep the change.” He winks and smiles, and it’s the same smile as the Papa on the poster behind the counter.

Jack takes a bite of the new doughnut and chews. The chocolate is rich and sweet. He takes another bite and swings his legs as Papa smiles at him.

ii.

Jack is 18, and he is so close to having it all.

“Drink up!”

The bottle Kent presses into Jack’s hand is cold and smooth except for the label, damp and wrinkled from condensation. Jack doesn’t like these parties and he doesn’t like the taste of alcohol. It burns on the way down and tastes like spite, a bitter, caustic thing that burns inside of him whenever Papa offhandedly remarks that Kent just might go first. Jack doesn’t like the way that feels, or the way he feels for feeling that way. But he likes the way he feels after a few beers, the way it makes him loose and brave. Kent says it makes him more fun. So Jack takes a pull of his beer and grimaces, quickly twisting his mouth into a smile when he catches Kent glancing his way.

One beer makes Jack loose enough that his smile comes more easily.

Two beers and the world starts to shimmer around the edges, suffusing everything with a nice haze that makes him feel buoyant and bold. When he’s on the ice he feels loose and free, not heavy and grounded the way he feels as soon as he removes his skates. On the ice he does the right things and the words come easily; people smile and cheer his name. Two beers in and Jack feels closer to the way he feels on the ice, his ever-present anxiety and self-consciousness fading into something palatable.

Three beers is the magic number. He can laugh at jokes made at his expense about that shot he missed and flirt with the girls who somehow always know where the team is partying. With three beers in him, Jack’s hand can find Kent’s in the dark and he doesn’t worry that he’s not really this brave. He doesn’t worry about any of it.

“Zimms! There’s girls here!” Rusty, yelling from the other side of the room, is anything but subtle. Though these girls, with their loud, exaggerated laughter, don’t seem like they value subtlety anyway. One of them catches his eye, a small blonde who doesn’t look away when Jack catches her staring.

Jack runs his thumb back and forth over the smooth label, wearing away a patch in the center. Bits of paper bead up and cling to it, turn gritty under his thumb. When he tries to brush them away they just stick to him.

“Awww, is Zimms gonna score again? Score on the ice, score off the ice, is that how it works?”

“Shut up.” Jack elbows Kent.

“Make me.”

Jack swallows hard, suddenly remembering exactly what he did to make Kent shut up last night, and the night before. He can’t do this right now. He shouldn’t do this ever. The one thing that matters, the only thing that matters, according to Jack’s father, is THE DRAFT.

That’s how he thinks of it, in all caps.

Tonight when Jack counted out his pills, there were seven missing. He doesn’t know how it happened. He’s good with numbers, at knowing the score at all times. He remembers the shots he made and the shots he missed, keeps a running tally in his head. He memorizes stats. Not just his, but those of every first round draft pick of the last five years, and those of every guy who has even been mentioned as a first round pick this year. He is constantly calculating his odds.

Jack is good with numbers. How has he lost track of the pills he’s taken?

Somebody pries the beer bottle, now warm, from Jack’s hand and replaces it with a new one. Jack didn’t even realize he’d finished the first. Jack takes another drink.

He is so close to having it all, and he is so close to losing it all.

*****

iii

Jack is 24, and when he swiftly pays for Bittle’s coffee, telling his teammate he’s “good for it,” he realizes he is. It’s not just that he can afford it because he’s about to sign an NHL contract. It’s also because Bittle is his friend, and Jack enjoys doing nice things for his friends.

Somehow, and Jack still cannot explain how though he suspects it has a bit to do with Bittle’s own grit and generosity, Bittle has become one of Jack’s best friends.

Checking practice, a morning workout that it turns out they both needed, isn’t really necessary anymore. These days, the early ice time with Bittle is just an excuse for an extra workout. Sometimes they even goof off more than they practice, a concept Jack would have found sacrilegious a year ago. They race each other around the rink, skating faster and faster until their breath comes in aching gasps. Or Bittle will pull out a jump, tentative and imprecise. “I know it’s not impressive,” Bittle says self-deprecatingly, “but just imagine if I had my figure skates.”

Bittle is wrong. Jack is very impressed. Somehow those words catch in his throat when he tries to voice them so he just nods.

Afterward, they get coffee. Jack drinks his black and bitter. “Like your soul,” Bittle once joked. Jack used to think that was true, but now he thinks that maybe he’s softened. More and more, he feels the way Bittle’s milky latte looks: lighter, cooler, sweeter.

Jack takes a sip of Bittle’s latte by accident and ... it’s not unpleasant. There’s an underlying smoky sweetness Jack’s own black coffee is missing, a richness that makes him yearn for a second sip before he hands it back. It’s not the worst thing.

“Good?” Bittle asks, eager and expectant, like Jack’s answer will reveal the secrets of the universe.

“It’s not disappointing,” Jack concedes.

“Well, for five dollars I should think not!” Bittle scoffs as they head back out into the cold.

Bittle wears gloves in 40 degrees and pulls his toque down low over his ears, and sometimes Jack catches himself wondering what it would be like if he could provide that warmth. He decides, when Bitty gives him a friendly hip check, that maybe he’s getting there.

*****

iv

Jack is still 24, and he’s in what his boyfriend just called “Southern-Fried Hell.”

Okay, not really. Objectively, Bitty’s MooMaw’s place isn’t bad at all. It’s the fact that he’s here, sweating profusely and trying to politely choke down a plate of terrible coleslaw, while every single Bittle and Phelps in the state of Georgia attempts to engage in polite conversation when all he wants to do is find a private corner where he can make out with Bitty.

Jack doesn’t even like coleslaw. It’s slimy and stringy and this particular coleslaw is oddly sweet yet somehow bitter and acidic at the same time. There’s pepper in it? Pepper, and something gritty that might be sugar or possibly dirt. Jack hopes it’s sugar.

From the other side of the yard, Bitty catches his eye and hides a smile behind a slice of watermelon as Jack explains his upcoming training schedule to some uncle or cousin or neighbor. He’s been introduced to so many people today, and it’s exhausting. Jack genuinely wants to get to know Bitty’s family, but he also wants Bitty, and only one of those things is possible at the moment.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bitty laughs as he cards his fingers through Jack’s hair later that night. “You did not have to eat Aunt Connie’s coleslaw. Bless her heart, she tries, but we all stopped pretending we liked it years ago.”

“I wanted to be polite,” Jack says. “Make a good first impression. My parents always made me try a little of everything at their parties.”

Bitty’s face does something complicated, a look equal parts pity and irritation. “Jack. I promise you nobody in this family is gonna think less of you because you don’t eat Aunt Connie’s coleslaw, or Uncle Hank’s ribs, or Judy’s potato salad. I’m not gonna think less of you. It’s enough that you’re here.”

Bitty presses a little closer to Jack, and Jack’s body registers every point of skin-on-skin contact: elbows, hands, thighs, calves. Bitty’s bare foot where it tangles with Jack’s. It feels like there’s an electric current running through each point, vibrating at a frequency only they can feel.

Or it could just be the humidity. Georgia in July is really fucking humid.

Overhead, the fireworks show is starting, far enough away that they can see but not hear the spectacle.

“Promise me,” Bitty says, corners of his mouth quirking upward, “that next year you’ll skip the coleslaw.”

It should feel scary, to make that promise when this is still so new, but Jack can clearly see the years spooling out ahead of them, years of avoiding Aunt Connie’s coleslaw and making small talk with the strangers he met today until they’re no longer strangers.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Bitty sighs happily and rests his head on Jack’s chest, a pleasant weight that reminds Jack of everything he’s found since the day he lost it all.

*****

v

Jack is 36, and some days he feels every day of it. His shoulders and knees ache more often than not, especially when a four-year old is perched on top of those aching shoulders. When they walk into Bitty’s shop he gently lifts Evie from his shoulders and sets her down in front of the bakery case so she can look at the day’s treats.

“Chocolate old-fashioned?” Bitty’s sliding the doughnut across the counter before Jack orders. He knows his husband. Never once, in all the time he’s owned this shop, has Jack ordered one of the novelty doughnuts he keeps on the menu even though there’s nothing really “novelty” about Skittles or Hot Cheetos on top of a doughnut these days. They’re a holdover from the previous owner, who made his name creating Instagrammable confections. Bitty’s taken his original recipes in a different direction, experimenting with natural food dyes and delicate floral infusions. His creations have gotten some attention in local foodie circles, but most people come in for the classics.

Jack still doesn’t eat sprinkle doughnuts. The sprinkles, even the organic ones Bitty uses, still stick in his teeth and make them feel funny. But Evie loves sprinkle doughnuts. She especially loves it when her daddy hands one to her and takes a break to sit with them while she eats it.

“How was your swim lesson, sweetheart?” Bitty asks, a soft sigh escaping as he sits for what is probably the first time all morning. Jack listens to the two chatter happily as he picks at his own doughnut, chewing slowly.

Jack remembers sitting in a shop like this with his own mother, and — occasionally — his father. He and Maman would stop at the doughnut shop across from his swim lesson for “a little treat,” as she liked to call it. They always went to that one instead of the chain shop Papa had an endorsement deal with; it was a long time before Jack realized Maman intentionally chose the smaller shop because of its anonymity.

“That’s Papa.” Evie points at the poster on the wall behind Bitty, at a smiling Jack holding a cake doughnut topped with sprinkles, Falcs blue and yellow. After the last Cup Bitty had the idea to recreate the advertisement Bad Bob did years ago, and with time Jack agreed that it could be fun. Somehow, the photographer managed to capture Jack at the exact moment he saw Bitty and Evie walk in. Bitty says it’s the most natural photo Jack has ever taken.

“That is your papa,” Bitty says. “Remember, we took the pictures together and talked about how we were going to put the one of just Papa up here in the shop because his team won the Cup? How does he look?”

Evie take a bite, swallows as she tilts her head and considers the Jack on the wall. Suddenly, he recalls with perfect clarity what it felt like to be four or five and see another version of his father in a public space. The way it made him feel proud and shy and scared for reasons he couldn’t articulate.

“Happy,” Evie finally declares, swinging her legs and beaming up at her fathers. “I think he looks happy.”

[1dfangirls35]

Voir Dire (N.H.)

A fake dating OU about contracts, soulmates and risking it all for love

Masterlist // Tell Me What You Think!

twenty-four

If you had asked Kelsey what her plans for her weekend in Vegas were, they wouldn't have included this: standing at the door of Niall's hotel room at five in the morning with last night's mascara clinging to her cheeks, wondering if it was too late to turn around and run the other way.

It wasn't too late. Not yet, because she hadn't knocked and he didn't know that she was here and she hadn't stared into those gorgeous blue eyes that always seemed to hypnotize her. If she really wanted she could keep it that way; she could go back down the elevator and into her starched white hotel sheets, and get on a plane again in a few hours like last night night never happened. But somehow she was stuck. Her feet cemented in place in front of the white hotel room door. And as much as her brain told her it wasn't too late to forget last night ever happened, the rest of her body resists.

Niall had first proposed the idea of meeting up again last night after their...encounter...at the after party. But proposed wasn't the right word, Niall's words had been more urgent than that, borderline begging.

"I just need a few minutes to speak to you," Niall had pleaded. "I need to explain. Please let me explain." Niall's eyes begged for forgiveness.

Kelsey had turned away, making her way toward the door, every second she spent with Niall bringing her closer and closer to disaster.

"Room 502. 5 am. Please Kelsey just give me a chance to explain."

Kelsey hadn't said anything back. Instead, she'd made her way back to the dance floor and was met by Mallory's "where have you been?".

Kelsey had tossed and turned all night over this. She knew it was wrong, going to see Niall. She knew what was at stake. But she was like an addict, and Niall Horan was her drug of choice. Twenty minutes with him in a glammed up bathroom had rekindled every feeling that she'd tried to bury since she let him go months ago.

Kelsey inhaled deeply. She couldn't let this weekend ruin everything she'd sacrificed so far. But she had so many questions, and those questions could only be answered by doing exactly what she wasn't supposed to do. She raised her hand to knock.

"You came," Niall said with a grin as he opened the door and Kelsey entered the doorway. Her hair was half curled from last night, some remnants of mascara clinging to her lashes, but in the early morning light, all Niall could think about was just how beautiful she was.

He wondered how he ever made it through the past four months without her, but then realized he hadn't. Not really.

"Yes," she replied softly, glancing around the room as if she was being followed. She seemed scared, hesitant and Niall wondered just what had transpired that had made Kelsey so afraid.

"Let's go," Niall gestured out the door.

"Where exactly?" Kelsey raised an eyebrow, wondering where on earth Niall thought the two of them would be going, especially with Niall still dressed in a fluffy white bathrobe. His hair was tousled as if he'd just rolled out of bed, but his eyes seemed brighter this morning, as if he'd gotten a lot more sleep than Kelsey had.

"Somewhere no one will find us," Niall whispered, his voice creating goosebumps on Kelsey's arms.

The staircase was somewhere Niall and the lads had discovered back in the One Direction days. A rickety, metal roof-access staircase that was used once or twice a year. The stairs weren't pretty, but the view of Las Vegas from the rooftop was, and that was exactly what Niall wanted to show Kelsey in the early morning light.

It's still dark when Niall props open the rusty metal door revealing the hotel roof, but Kelsey still feels exposed, her mind racing at all the ways they could be caught up here.

Niall sensed her fear, because he places his hand, warm, on the small of back and whispered "Basil's watching the stairs, don't worry." Even that doesn't calm Kelsey's anxiety.

Kelsey followed Niall to a place on the center of the roof, sitting beside him and gazing out upon the Las Vegas strip. Sunrise is just beginning to appear on the horizon, and for a moment Kelsey forgot why she is here, or what has happened between them. It's just her and Niall. Like it used to be.

Niall cleared his throat nervously, bringing Kelsey back to reality. "Last night, there were a lot of..." he gulped, searching for exactly the right word to explain what happened last night. "Emotions." He glanced over at Kelsey, and saw that she had shown a sliver of a smile. "I just wanted a chance for you to hear it from me. My side of the story instead of TMZ's."

Kelsey didn't say anything. She just nodded. Niall wondered if maybe this was going to be a one-sided conversation after all.

"It was a mistake Kels," Niall exclaimed, as if that wasn't entirely obvious. "I was sad and she was sad and I just wanted something to numb the pain. And the second it was over all I could think about was you. And how much that hurt you," Niall felt emotion seeping into his voice at the memory of just how awful that moment had been. "Every day since then I've wished that I could take it back. That if I was just given one chance to live that day over again, I wouldn't do it. Because it didn't take away the pain, it amplified it."

Kelsey couldn't look Niall in the eyes, instead she stared out street blacktop below them, empty, with only the earliest of inhabitants cruising the streets.

Niall saying it was all a mistake should have made her feel better. But instead it makes her worse. Because the only reason he was ever in that position in the first place was because of her.

"I didn't want to be a father, not like this. But she's got no one. No one, Kelsey. And this isn't just her fault or her responsibility. It took two of us," Niall laughed forcefully, as if he had made a joke. "She gave me the option you know. We ended the contract. And I could have run, god how I wanted to run. But that wouldn't be right you know? We are still figuring it out. How to do this whole co-parenting, and we've got some time but I just. I need you to know that there is nothing there- nothing there romantically. It's just giving this kid a life with two parents that love 'em."

Niall turned to look at Kelsey, realizing he had been rambling, but she remained silent. She's staring at the concrete of the rooftop now, her fingers drawing circles on the cement. He wondered if he had gotten this all wrong. Maybe last night hadn't really happened, maybe there hadn't been a moment where everything seemed like it was going to be okay. Maybe she was still as angry with him as she was the moment he stepped into that bathroom.

Niall thought that maybe he should be quiet. He'd been doing an awful lot of talking, and he had really hoped that by sharing his story, maybe Kelsey would share hers. But there's one more thought in the back of his mind. And he know he can't come to terms with whatever the next chapter of their story is until he says it aloud. "A melody came to me last night, after the party," he paused. "I haven't been able to write in months and then BOOM, I see you and suddenly my music has returned to me. It's no coincidence, Kelsey. You're back in my life and now so is my music."

Kelsey stayed silent, biting the inside of her cheek to keep tears from forming. The fact that thee contract between Niall and Krystal had ended. The fact that he was handling the situation exactly as she thought he would. The fact that he thought she was 'back in his life'. It was all too much.

She tried to remain expressionless, because that's what she was supposed to do right? She was supposed to resist every bone in her body screaming at her to lean over and kiss Niall.

"Damnit Kelsey say something!" Niall exclaimed, reaching out to touch Kelsey's arm, as her eyes met his for the first time since he started speaking. They aren't the happy or forgiving eyes that Niall was hoping to see, nor the angry eyes he was fearing. They were blank, almost as if she wasn't there at all.

"Thank you for telling me," she said softly.

Niall sighed, and Kelsey can hear the annoyance in his breath. "That's it? Honestly Kelsey it would feel better if you yelled at me. I know something's going on, please just tell me. I won't be mad," his voice shifted to concern.

"I wish I could Niall. God, I wish I could tell you everything. But I can't."

"Then tell me what you're so scared of," he grabbed her hands and she didn't pull away.

"Everything," Kelsey said softly, "I'm scared I'll lose everything." I may have already lost it , she thought to herself.

"Whatever it is Kelsey, whatever they made you sign. We can fight it. I can fix it. Let me fix it!"

The tears Kelsey had tried so hard to contain were starting to escape, one sliding down the side of her nose. She reached her hand up and tried to quickly wipe it away before he noticed. "I can't risk it Niall. I just can't."

Niall opened his mouth again to speak, but Kelsey stopped him before the words could leave his lips. Because she knew how this would go. Niall didn't see things like Kelsey saw them. He was an idealist, and he wouldn't understand it unless she laid it out clearly- well, as clearly as she could without violating the NDA.

"You, you may lose your contract or your tour or your album but you will have something left. You have fans who adore you. Fans that worship the ground you walk on. Fans that would simply not allow you to never release a piece of music again. And even in the unlikely situation that you lose the music industry entirely, you will still have plenty. But me? Breaking this contract means I lose everything I've ever worked for. I lose my entire future." Kelsey's eyes pleaded with Niall to read between the lines, to connect the dots to what exactly her deal with the devil included.

"So that's it then? You just want to forget this weekend ever happened? Don't you think it was fate that we would even be in the same place at the same time again? I can't let you do this Kelsey, we have to do something."

"What Niall? What is this 'something' that we are going to do?" Kelsey said with frustration. "This isn't even something that can be done at the spur of the moment."

"I don't know..." Niall shrugged, his face defeated.

"I love you Niall, I do," Kelsey whispered. "Just know that I've always done what I've done because I love you. Now I'm asking you to do the same- keep this to yourself. If you love me, you'll understand."

"I love you," Niall murmured. "But.."

"No more buts..." Kelsey smiled, reaching a hand up to brush the side of Niall's face. "Maybe our love was just meant to be at a distance."

She leaned over, placing a soft kiss on Niall's lips, then stood, stepping away from Niall's grasp and once again made her way away from Niall before he can say anything else. Or more accurately, before she could change her mind.

She'd already said far too much.

Tag List: @awomanindeniall​​ , @ihearthemcallingforyou​ , @niall-is-my-dream​​ ,​  @stylishmuser​​​ , @thicksniall

[imasimpforstevengrant]

I feel you

Author's note:

@raven-romanoff

@maristela1968

For you again, lovelies!

This is the first smut I write after almost two years. I hope you like it!

As always, sorry for any typos. English is not my first language.

____________________________________

Summary: Follow up to "I understand you".

As his strange relationship with Harleen oscillates between friendship and desire, Arthur takes the things to another level.

Warnings: angst, self hatred, mentions of masturbation, swearing, house breaking, strong sexual themes and smut.

Words: 6.258

Part 1:

Part 2:

____________________________________

Arthur couldn't sleep that night. His mind, overtaken by a growing confidence, tormented with new feelings for her created a dark, devilish smile in his face. He closed the door carefully, taking off his hoodie, shirt and shoes, wearing only sweatpants around the house, smoking a cigarette. He sat on the couch, knees bouncing. Something in his chest burns. That night Arthur felt different. He felt sure of his actions, instead of the usual anxiety and fear. Replaying the wonderful moment which he was the protagonist of, savoring every detail, while directing to the table. Her voice echoed through his head, her smile painting across his memory, the way she looked at him. His feet weren't able to keep still and Arthur knew this hyperventilation was caused by the shock of his first intimate contact with a woman. He already planned what he would do once they'd meet again. Probably to take her to dinner or simply going to the playground with a coffee and cigarettes to spend the night talking.

Handing himself his treasured journal, Arthur searched for the section dedicated to her. Grabbing a pen, he wrote her name. Misspelled, but affectionately.

Harlen Quenzel.

He tried in vain to write anything else, because his mind clouded basking in a bliss he had never felt before.

The blinding white light coming from above the kitchen hindered the happy replay of the image of Harleen coming closer to him to kiss his lips. But he simply turned it off. The tips of his fingers touched the dry flesh blessed by her mouth. Lighting a cigarette he fantasizes now. Taking her in the floor, in the bedroom or in the couch... She would love it. Arthur guaranteed himself that. The proof was clear: she had enjoyed his sudden and explosive display of passion. He suppressed a chuckle, afraid of another fit of laughter. But it did not go further. He stood in the dark for a while, before going to the couch to try to get some sleep. His mind was way too excited to even hold his legs still. The lucky loner grabbed the pack of cigarettes, smoking another one immediately after finishing the other one. Thing was, he couldn't consummate his passion in this moment... But he certainly could let his mind fly by thinking about Harleen and her virtues for now. Arthur headed to the bathroom.

A little joy given by himself wouldn't be so bad. ________________________________________

Over the next two months, the strange relationship between Arthur and Harleen grew from a friendship that had frequent outbursts of passion to long hours of talking about anything, from work to jokes.

As much as Arthur felt a silently uncontrollable lust for Harleen, he truly felt affection and caring for her. This was shown in small gestures like inviting her to dinner or waiting up late when her shift was over whenever neither of them would spend the entire night sleeping. They had each other and it was okay with that. In was in these situations where their bond grew. It was so ironic that the one thing that prevented an actual rest to his tormented mind also allowed to have the closest and most meaningful relationship he ever had in his life.

Arthur became more introverted than he already was. He didn't talk too much at work and had the growing tendency to isolate from others. To his co-workers this was probably another demonstration of his deteriorated mental state but Arthur was too busy trying to cope with these new feelings. He was asked more than once about this but he avoided to answer, limiting to reply he was okay. At the end of the day, the party clown left with a anxious pace. His co-workers were sure Arthur had finally lost his mind. And in some way, he did. Why was he in a rush? They would never know.

It was saturday when things changed. Arthur came back from a gig to Haha's with his clown make up on. Once in, he cleaned it from his face to leave without saying anything afterwards, too withdrawn into his daydreaming. He set a foot into the bus, as always, facing the window. The lights of daylight disappeared into the darkness or the night, rain pouring out. Arthur shielded from the cold sinking into his partly tattered hoodie. By this hour, Harleen should have been in her workplace. He just hoped no one would harm her at the time of her return. Arthur thought he could wait for her at the building's entrance, making sure she was safe. Harleen would like it.

He thought this weekend would be different. And Arthur had a very good reason why.

_________________________________________

It was Sunday when Arthur got up early to clean the house and to prepare breakfast for Penny to feed during the first lights of day.

It was in this way he could focus completely on his upcoming date at night. As the day vanished for nighttime to arrive, he put a cheap cologne on, his pants perfectly ironed. Same with the shirt and red vest. And the usual yellow hoodie Harleen learned to love so much. His excitement reflected in his voice as he waved goodbye to his always distracted mother, who simply waved back, not interested on how much brighter Arthur's eyes were in that moment. Heading to the door, he heard a frustrating ask:

"Happy, can you put this letter in the box?"

His shoulders lose strength. Arthur tried his best to hide his annoyance.

"It's for Thomas Wayne".

"I know, mom", the whisper was almost inaudible. Returning to the living room, he took the letter gently just to jump back to the door to free himself, "I'll be back at night".

She just nodded. And he finally breathed his freedom, feeling more confident than ever. But his sense of victory over the world vanished as he realized he still had that fucking letter in hand. A tired sigh leaves his lips. But he ran as fast as possible to reach the first floor to get rid of the piece of useless attempt to get attention from a man who maybe didn't remember her. The rusty locker received it and Arthur at last could set a foot outside the building, crossing his arms.

Harleen arrived a few seconds later. Arthur smiled, coming closer to her. Her outfit was unpretentious but neat: black pants and sneakers, a red wool sweater. Her hair was done into two colourful buns and a few strands which fell into her face. But the thing he liked the most was that blood red lipstick... And her grin made it better.

"Hello, clown man", Harleen nuzzled his nose tenderly. It was an habit he loved from her, as any other touch. He chuckled, greeting her back. Then both got out of the building, leading to the donut shop so they could have coffee and toast.

"So, how was your week?", Harleen asked as Arthur held his cup, drinking the steamy hot liquid.

"It was fine. I had a gig in a children's hospital. It turned out great because it was a charity event".

"Really?"

"Yeah. They were... Getting money for families that cannot afford to pay treatments".

Harleen nodded, warming her hands with the mug. Arthur then returned the question. Harleen told him the bar had more regulars than usual. This caught her eye, and paid very much attention to it during the weekly shift.

"What is it?".

"People are drinking their souls out" she replied, after eating her toast, "and that's not all. There was a recently fired guy that feared if Wayne is elected mayor, unemployment and riots will get worse."

Arthur lowered his head. He ate the toast to state:

"Why do so many people believe in that man, anyway?"

"He's rich, successful and an entrepreneur. Men like him have no idea how to run a city for the simple fact that entrepreneurs like him see people as numbers, not as complex sentient beings."

"How come?", Arthur fixed his collar.

"They only care for economy, Arthur. They disregard the fact that not everyone has the same chances for success they had and therefore any help for impoverished people is nothing but a "waste of money". Wayne is convinced that everyone who receives any kind of welfare doesn't want to work." Arthur remained silent for a while, processing what she just said.

"Men like him will never know what is like to be someone like you or me", Harleen concluded, finishing her coffee.

"But at least we have our jobs" Arthur commented comically.

"Yeah, as long as we get paid" and both laughed.

The shop was almost empty, which made easier to listen to the radio while talking. This gave them more topics to talk about. But then a song came out. Arthur knew it, he closed his eyes, engulfing himself in the gloomy tune of the song:

"King of all

Hear me call

Hear my name

Carnival"

Harleen did not interrupt. She understood that Arthur, as an extremely introverted person, couldn't be interrupted when exploring, talking or listening. It was pleasant to see him glad or enjoying things for once. She smiled as he mouthed the lyrics, which he knew perfectly. As the song came to an end, Harleen extended her hand, eyeing Arthur to look for his approval. As much as he enjoyed the sudden outbursts of affection, Arthur still wasn't used to publicly show it. Harleen comprehended as well and wouldn't force him to do it. She discovered it when going back from a previous date when she just held his hand. He became a blushing mess but it didn't go further, thank goodness.

Arthur noted the hand whose black and red nail polish established a hurtful contrast in comparison to her light skin. He then looked at her. He slid his own towards Harleen's. Their hands intertwined. Another little touch and he was already yearning for her. Arthur wanted to love her without words, without distance between them. Just the two of them. He wanted so much to tell her, but didn't dare to. Despite the fact he adored her, there was something he could never tell her... Yet.

There was something Arthur loathed about himself but he did his best to not to give it too much importance, choosing to focus on other things, instead. Arthur Fleck was a man and as such, he had needs. But the need wasn't the problem. Satisfying it was. He was comprehensive enough to understand that motherly affection was the closest thing he ever had to love. Devoid of any bond with anyone else, he frequently masturbated to soothe the sexual need. Usually to porn magazines whose pages he tore up to stick them in his journal. A fulfilling sexual life was a dream, far away from his reach. He could only see it but never take part in it, as it was with everything in his life. An eternal spectator, never a protagonist. Thinking of her, lusting after her... And he wasn't able to even mutter a fucking word. He cursed the emptiness roaming during all his life. Because he had nothing to offer her except desire. His inexperience was never a problem, given his surrender to embrace a life of solitude. Until now. Her arrival to his life made him remember how much of a man he was. And her kindness just fanned the fire within him.

Harleen squeezed his hand a little more, noting his unsettled nerve. Arthur sighed, out of the gloomy, bleak storm that creeped out as a dark mist in his mind. But her face shines as a small light of hope. Her eyes promised so many good things that he couldn't bring himself to believe.

"What's troubling you, Mr. Fleck?" her smile was accomplice, as if she knew what was lurking into the labyrinth of his mind, but wanting to hear it from his mouth.

"I just... I was thinking about...", Harleen encouraged him to tell her. He inhaled deeply, lighting a cigarette to cope with the newfound stress. Once again, his everlasting negative thoughts clouded the moment. The vocal cords were unresponsive. His hand broke contact with hers to hold his forehead, looking for the right words to speak. His knees bounced. Harleen leaned in, waiting.

"Artie?"

The tender pronunciation of the diminutive form of his name turned his gaze to her.

"I think I prefer to tell you... In private".

Harleen nodded. The response sounded too dark. And she knew that if Arthur talked like that, it was something serious. They left the donut shop, walking towards the subway. It was almost empty and dark. Just a few people were on it. The couple sit down, with Harleen tangling the arm around his to tilt her head on his shoulder. Arthur kept his eyes on the window, trying to figure out how the fuck he'd tell her about it.

As they reached the last stop, they left the subway station to step up the stairs and then Arthur reached a dirty, dark public restroom surrounded on the outside of a fence. Both stopped for a moment before the gnawed door. Harleen looked up to the party clown's dark features. He pronounced no words.

"Arthur?"

"There's something I need to tell you", his murmur comes shy, cast down.

"What is it?"

He stepped away from her. His hands clasp his mouth, disapproving his thoughts. He shook his head, eyes shut. Circling his own personal space, lightheaded. Harleen came closer to him.

"Is it bad?"

Arthur glared at her, guilty.

"I mean... I don't know how to tell you. I just hope you don't laugh at me".

"Why would I do that?".

Arthur half opened his eyes.

"I want...", It took a long, deep inhalation to pronounce the first part. He coughed, to clear his throat seconds later, "I need to tell you... That I really like you... And--", he silenced his words, trying to put them correctly in his mind.

"And?"

"See" he sighed, "I've..."

Harleen widened her eyes in anticipation.

"I've been thinking about you a lot... and I would be lying if I tell you I don't want something else".

"What is 'something else'?" Harleen whispered.

Arthur processed the question. And then answered:

"It's just..." He brushed the small beads of sweat on his forehead with the palm of his hand, "I love the way you touch me, Harleen" Arthur continued, "and I simply can't get enough of it".

"Because we both need it, Arthur. I love just as much as you do. That makes it so satisfying", he chuckled, humbled. Harleen expected more of him.

"That's not all", he gazed not to her. This was the one moment that could end it all or strengthen this precious bond of theirs.

"Arthur" she called him, "don't be afraid. Please tell me".

"I want to sleep with you", Arthur finally confessed, gazing at her. His eyes confirmed the statement. He blinked slowly, wanting her to see the animalistic yearn on them.

Harleen stared at him, shocked of how much he trusted her to confess something so intimate. His breathe had shortened. His green eyes glowed like emeralds, embellished even more with his pupils dilated. The blonde invited him inside the bathroom so they could keep baring their souls. Arthur inspected the place to make sure it was completely safe to stay there. Harleen locked the door once they knew it was unoccupied.

"I don't want to beg for love" Arthur said, his voice raspy, "but I don't want to lie to you. I want to know if you feel the same" Arthur spoke in a very low voice. Harleen looked at him, infatuated before this new dark vibe from him. He looked like a totally different person. Her fingers slid into his curls.

"I knew it already, Arthur."

"And why doesn't it bother you?"

"Because I can understand why you want it".

Arthur turned to her. Never in his life he felt more expecting. Harleen explained, in very simple terms, that she found his attachment understandable: Arthur had been deprived of love during all his life and this new bond made him feel important. From becoming visible and cared for to reaffirm his manhood through sexual desire. Arthur heard every word carefully, and it made sense. Everything made fucking sense. It was through sexual intercourse that men felt loved.

Love.

It was always about love, at the end of all.

Harleen returned the cigarette to him.

"Don't blame yourself. You're a human, after all. Sex is the most pleasant of human activities, so don't feel bad for enjoying it".

"It's not that I don't enjoy it. I don't feel ready to do it, despite of how much I want it".

Harleen frowned, and her silence just made Arthur confess one of his most (if not the most) shameful secrets. Only now she knew the extent of her impact in his life. She knew a lot about him, including the seven medications he was in, but this? She had been aware of the way he looked at her, but hearing him actually admitting it out loud made her shudder. Her arms locked around his shoulders to pull Arthur to a kiss in the cheek.

"It's not a race or a competition. You just feel and act according to your instincts. Also, I'd be lying too if I said I don't want anything else" Arthur sank his eyes into Harleen's, "quite frankly, we were close to have sex the night we first talked if it wasn't because I was too tired to do so, but now, if you don't feel ready to do it, I won't pressure you to do anything".

"Starting a friendship in that way? I like it" he hummed, mischievous.

"We are not friends... Because... Friends are not supposed to touch each other. That's what lovers do. But... We aren't lovers, yet" Harleen whispered.

"Then what are we?" Arthur asked.

"We are, Arthur. We simply are" this time her kiss directed to his mouth. _________________________________________

Arthur changed his damp clothes to avoid the cold. The bedroom TV was turned on as well as the hall lights. The usual. He prepared the dinner for his mother, bathing her and making sure she'd go to bed. The conversation was the same. Thomas fucking Wayne and the fucking letters. Arthur had no interest on losing energy on nonsense, so he only nodded. He took a shower and shaved the growing beard and wore his grey sweatpants. A few observations written in the pages of the journal about his day at Haha's and Arthur felt his routine was finished, therefore he could count down to the moment when Harleen was back at home from work. His eyes darted at the clock. 1:14 am. Less than two hours for her return. He felt confident enough to go to her apartment and stay all night with her. He smoke five cigarettes in the meantime, walking over the house. Turning the TV on so time wouldn't pass so long. He sat at the couch, waiting for an old rerun of Murray Franklin's Show. An actor was to be interviewed but he couldn't focus entirely on it. He laid down. His mind pictured her beside him. However, as much as he cherished all the physical and emotional affection from her, it wasn't enough anymore. It was hard to accept it but that's just the way it was. As the show ended, an old movie ran. Arthur turned the device off. The clock sets the time: 2:24 am. Less than hour. He got up, turning the lights off, hoodie in hand and determination in his mind. Locking the door, Arthur left. He walked across the halls, stepping down to the destination: 7H. The door was unlocked, much to his surprise. The loner felt truly in home. If only she was in there for him to shower her in his affection. But he then realized the neon lights were on. His heart skipped a beat. The air seemed... Different. He stood as quiet as possible to see what was going on. The rain slightly broke the total silence that ruled the place. Arthur reached the living and then, only then, he saw her.

Harleen was placidly sleeping on the couch, wearing a two part, peach coloured pajamas. Her mane was a mess of white, blue and pink strands that fell over her face. Her head rested on a pillow and her pose revealed how comfy her sleep was. Kneeling beside the couch, Arthur leaned over her face, his fingers set aside the colourful mane to obtain the beautiful vision of her peaceful facial expression. His thumb glided over her lips, which he soon joined with his. It was slow, intimate kiss, full of subtle hunger.

Seconds later, her hands cupped his face to make the caress steadier, humming playfully. Arthur broke the kiss to eye her. Half sleep, Harleen smiled at him.

"Hey" he called, secretive.

"Good night, Mr. Fleck", she muttered, voice pasty, "another insomnia night?" but he shook the head.

"I thought you weren't here. I couldn't help it", he muttered.

“Never said I mind. Bar closed earlier and here I am”.

“Really? Why?”

“The riots, Arthur. Boss preferred to send us home before any damage could be done by the protesters”.

Arthur made room for himself in the cozy, fluffy long couch. Asking if she was okay, Harleen just replied she took a taxi to make home safely. Arthur sighed, relieved. The blonde smiled at him but didn’t move any further. He noticed that, blaming for being so inconsiderate. Getting into her apartment and disturbing her rest like that? What a awful friend (lover) he was! Recoiling with guilt and diving again in the brooding mood so typical on him, he distanced from his love. She fell asleep once more. Arthur kept his gaze on her, tracing invisible touches in her curves. She was so close yet so far. He wanted to be a part of her, to be with her.

Inside of her.

The calloused fingers held his face to wash away the shame. The nerves were too much to take. The laugh gestated in a noise initially deaf to hear from afar to a thunderous fit. Harleen jolted at the sudden outburst. Arthur couldn’t feel worse. The expression on his face was so desperate for silence that the blonde immediately went after him when he shrugged, attempting in vain to drown the horrible noise that made his vocal cords bleed. Harleen dissuaded Arthur of any idea of escape just to hold him. The mentally ill loner sank his face into her neck. The embrace didn’t stop the scandalous explosion to keep shattering the quietness of the place, sensing Harleen squeezed his faint figure, seemingly trying to put every piece of his broken yet beautiful soul to help to soothe the pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—“

Her voice hushed his apologize. As the din disappeared into nothingness, both returned to the living room on the couch but Arthur took a step back from her.

“Why?”

Puzzled, Harleen frowns. She gave him space to recover.

“Why what?”

“Why me?”, Arthur regained strength to ask her, staring at her for a long period of time, “of all men you can have, why me?”

For the first time, Harleen seemed upset.

“If you think I do this out of pity, you are very, very wrong” the fire in her eyes was fascinating.

“Then why?”

Harleen processed the question while Arthur desperately awaited the reason to be verbalised.

“Please”.

She gulped.

“Because you’re a good man, Arthur”.

The response was too simple to be believable, though it was grateful to hear a compliment from her. Desiring more, his stare pierced her soul, to let her take the hint. Imprisoned under the green spell of his, Harleen proceeded to continue:

“I mean- you are always trying to make people laugh, yet people don’t see you and you still continue. You love what you do, you have been kind to me, you care about your mother putting your well-being aside. Don’t you think that is worth enough?”

Arthur shut his eyes, his head to the left, lighting a cigarette while the bouncing knee betrayed his feeling of unsettlement. Harleen noticed it. Wind took words away. Actions prevailed in time.

Time! That’s precisely what he needed. Both battled uneasiness in their own, unique way. While Harleen on her own end of the couch thought on a way to help him, Arthur tried to give order to his convulsed mind. He constantly touched his forehead and chest but never dared to eye her, terrified that she would vanish. The damn cigarette placed again on his lips. The muteness grew so uncomfortable the loner returned to glare at the blonde. She slowly approached to him, searching in his face his approval to get closer. Afraid to disturb his personal space in the same way someone would be cautious when getting closer to a wild animal. Arthur gasped, his blood boiling in what seemed the exact moment that would define his life. Harleen crawled to him, reaching his shoulders to concrete her goal: sit in the space between his legs.

If Arthur believed that just a hug put him on fire, this new contact aroused him to the point of insanity. The blonde crowned the physical bond placing her head in the crook of his neck. The temptation to take her and possess her now was insufferable but he found the will to not give in into the impulsive reaction. How? He’d never know. His heart rate was so violent, so overwhelming that the threat of a heart attack was becoming more real. Harleen placed her hand on his chest, like caressing his damaged heart like a mother would do with an scared child. His lungs finally caught a calmer rhythm as minutes went by. Arthur craved new touches, new discoveries, yet he wanted to remain like this forever. He savoured the closeness of their bodies… but it wasn’t enough. Harleen surely knew it by the moment Arthur stopped smoking.

And whenever Arthur Fleck stopped smoking, it meant something serious got his attention.

As the last fire on the cigarette died on the ashtray, Arthur turned his focus completely on her. He’d return her the favour, since she invaded his personal space so shamelessly. Harleen distanced a bit from him to allow the hoodie to come off. She approved the sight with a wide smirk: despite what people could say about his figure, Arthur was not as thin as his outfit revealed. His bare upper body had a plenty of muscle in the biceps. She traced a finger across the aforementioned part to touch his jawline now, going down his neck and collarbone. Next, a nuzzle against his face to continue the intimate bond, brushing her lips with his, without kissing him. However there was no further reaction from him except for a serene look on his face at the caresses. As the touch came to an end, she kissed his mouth repeatedly, her lips curved into a smile. The gesture motivated his instinct to get the better of him. He rose his dark, thick eyebrow to let her know how much of an accomplice he turned out to be, like a warning of what he had planned for her.

It was almost a ritual. Whenever a situation turned out to be too unfamiliar or too good, his hands would act as the link to confirm his psyche wasn't playing tricks with him. But this wasn't only a situation. This was a person who unchained a situation. And how he thanked every second of it. It seemed a spark of happiness enlightened his life, for once. Probably because even fate believed that no human being should be so miserable. He needed a constant reaction from her to keep convincing himself this wasn’t a dream. To increase the enjoyment of his hands touching her, Arthur executed a move directed to her chest, gliding his hands over her breasts, covered by the thin fabric of the sleeveless shirt. Harleen gasped, eyeing the curious hands as they roamed upon that delicate part of her. Arthur was fascinated, as his grin evidently brought out.

Since he had understanding about sex, Arthur craved a woman’s touch. It began as wet dreams, continuing with the subsequent discover of porn, a source he always went to in order to provide himself a little satisfaction. He remembered the particularly unhappy time of highschool, where bullying and harsh looks were a routine. The laughing fits during class, boys from all ages mocking at him during recess. But lunchtime was the worst part. If he wasn’t beaten up, his food paid the price. Starving and tired, Arthur was relieved in part by dropping school. He wouldn’t have to deal with the brutality of his classmates anymore. Girls usually avoided him, scared by his weak appearance. He never asked a girl for a date, afraid to be taken as a pervert. He just repressed any sexual need, feeling like a depraved creep for being curious about female body.

The mental drift continued for a couple of minutes when he noticed that Harleen wasn’t too quiet now, her shortened breath revealing an intense joy at his touch. As it happened always in a moment of adrenaline, through his arms an herculean strength ran so intensely that made her sit on his lap with no problem. The most exciting part of this new bold position was that he could face his lover, aiming his interest to her neck, covering it with slow, paused kisses. Harleen supports on his shoulders, delighted at his intimate exploration. Her shortened breath became a heavy panting while the latter morphed into a loud moan. Arthur immediately looked up to the blonde, her mane tickling his face. Did he caused such wonderful reaction? Him? Arthur Fleck, the perpetual loser, the unfunny clown, the embodiment of what a man should never be?

Suddenly, the grip loosened. Arthur felt he couldn’t concentrate anymore on Harleen in the same way. A sensation similar to fainting snatched away the energy on his arms. A surge of boiling blood flowed down his groin.

Arthur knew what this meant and her thighs straddling his hips, exactly where his searing intimacy reacted to such delectable recreation.

This encouraged him to let his wildest side come out. The pale hands lifted the shirt to the level of her neck, obtaining her bare chest to devour while getting into the inner part of the shirt, leaving the barrier between skin and fabric behind his back. Harleen reared up before the fulminant demonstration of lust, screaming while clawing at his shoulders. She felt his mouth, eager and famished, assiduously paying dedication to her soft sinuosities. The position enabled her to coddle him as well.

Because he fucking deserved it.

Her fingers stirred the dark curls under the cloth, begging for more. When Arthur felt the arousal was too much to keep building it up to simple caresses, he threw the shirt aside to obtain her upper nude body to admire. His eyes widened as the glimpse was even more beautiful in reality than in his fantasies. He hummed, approving the sight, too anxious to take her and yet so insecure if she’d be satisfied.

The blonde tugged into his belt, making clear her desire to pursue a deeper insight of their relationship. Her body performed a subtle movement to make him lay down on his back. As Arthur got rid of his clothes, so she did. Once she reached her own full nudity, he covered his mouth, amazed. Forget the models in his journal. Harleen had no comparison. And she probably knew it.

“Do you like what you see, mister Fleck?” she purred, seductive. He panted, regaining the oxygen to answer.

“Yes” was all he answered. Arthur could hardly speak at this point. His eyes said everything, anyway. The tease was a gift before the beloved blonde climbed atop him. Arthur helped her, grabbing her by the hips he longed so much to trace his fingers on.

Harleen leaned over his face to grant it a last kiss, enjoying this final step preceding to the loss of individuality.

She seemed so unreal, even when her full weight upon him proved wrong. And he knew exactly what to do to prove his psyche otherwise.

The last trace of doubt disappeared completely as his own sex found itself inside of her at last. The insertion was very slow, no rushes, so both lovers could memorize every sensation. The pressure around his hardened length turned out to be a pleasure beyond the thinkable, causing a shuddering, fastened breath to crumple his lungs. He arched his back, a loud, pleasurable moan escaping his mouth. As he got used to the warm welcome she gave him, his hands held her hips to proceed. Harleen lolled her head back, moaning softly, rejoicing at his presence inside of her delicate womanhood. Stillness held their bodies together as they enjoyed the sensation brought by the union.

Arthur recovered from the initial shock before the long desired loss of his hated celibacy started to take place. Harleen, naked much to the delight of his eyes, had her white, porcelain skin beautifully shaded by the pink and blue dim neon lights. Arthur smirked at her, admiring her body with his hands, not to convince himself that he was not hallucinating but to make sure to tell her how much he had desired to do this.

Just then Harleen did her magic.

“Let me show you that you’re not invisible”.

The rhythm worked in a slow pace. The blonde’s masterful moves made him moan and groan loudly as she straddled his hips. Everything he imagined with her appalled in comparison to this. Harleen, so provocative and prodigious, was so delicate in this erotic surrender. Like almost floating in the air. Arthur wondered how much it could take until reaching the peak of the carnal pleasure. But the obnoxious thud that beat his brain even in this moment found itself defeated by this lovely and pleasurable novelty, eventually. Watching Harleen on top of him was an irresistible landscape and Arthur couldn’t be more grateful for it even if he tried.

And her moans didn’t help either. Harleen was too lost in the moment to even talk to him, restricting her vocal expressions of pleasure just to plead for more.

Arthur plunged in this novelty to feel like a man for the first time in his life. He chuckled, joyful. His concentration centered exclusively on her. Harleen was a living mess of ecstasy, away from reality. He couldn’t love her more, specially when she called his name. The grip on her hips became tighter, as the warm space that surrounded his arousal narrowed. Her moans arose to louder screams. Now that was something he wanted to hear, sliding his fingers up to her waist to her chest.

The sense of control began to disappear eventually.

The instigation inspired a new move from Arthur, who got up to enclose her waist to absorb her essence. Fastening the moves, the blonde threw her arms to his neck, increasing the union as much as they were able. Their screams echoed through the apartment, announcing the proximity of the climax.

The final frenzy took ahold of the lovers. It hit Harleen first, as the convulsion whipped her insides, her figure trembling.

Arthur was convinced his soul was living his body at the time of his climax. While Harleen allowed him to flood her with his seed, he held her hips to keep inside her the longest time possible. The passionate, fulfilling embrace that served as the conclusion to the act recomposed their sense of reality. Once the physical bond was broken, the lovers laid back in the couch. Arthur still had a hard time recovering from his first sexual experience. His lungs finally eased down as Harleen reassuringly talked to him. Arthur opened his eyes, to smile to her.

“That…” he stuttered, breathless, “that… was… fucking sensational”.

Harleen supported her head in her hand.

“Couldn’t agree more”.

Arthur smiled and didn’t resist the temptation to sink into her arms, awaiting for sleep to come. He gave himself in completely, handing his vulnerability to her. Harleen sighed, palming his back. Arthur recoiled in pain and she didn’t hesitate to apologize.

“What’s this?” Harleen was going to get up to check him out but he prevented it, shaking his head. Apparently it didn’t have too much importance for him.

“I want this” his whisper sounded legitimately grateful. He took her hands to kiss them dearly, “I want this”.

She nodded and then changed her position so Arthur could place himself upon her. Her open arms received his fragile, starving shape to grant it comfort, like remind him of how much of a man he could be. The loner muttered something, but Harleen was already sleeping. Arthur didn’t move at all, silently enjoying her chest moving up and down. He planted a kiss above her right breast and closed his eyes.

The rain intensified. And Arthur fell asleep in a state of complete inner peace for the first time in his life as the pink lights dissipated into black as his eyes slowly closed.

It was the most beautiful darkness he’d ever been in.

[darksunrising]

Sola Gratia (17/?)

Masterlist

Rating / Warnings : Heavy horror themes, body horror, violence, non consensual blood sucking.

Fandom : Bram Stoker’s Dracula, BBC’s Dracula, various Dracula and vampire lore.

Part 17/? (2314 words)

Author’s notes : Eris is back, for better or worse...

~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

“Professor ? Would you have a minute ?”

I snapped my head up, suddenly realizing I had been staring into the void for the better part of an hour. Popping out of the office's doorframe, Stephan Helder's familiar, disheveled head of dark blond hair of made me force a little smile. I passed my hands over my face, and invited him to come in. It was already late, but I knew he preferred to work in the school library than at home, which was understandable.

He stepped in, carefully closing the door behind me, as if doing it too loud would startle me. He put down his heavy-looking bag on the floor, and took a seat across from my desk, nervously bouncing his leg. I'd learned to know it wasn't from actual anxiety, but more of small quirk of his. It tended to unnerve me, but I did my best not to be concerned by it.

“So, what can I help you with ? Everything going fine in your classes ?”, I asked.

“Oh, yes, sure, everything's great. I mean, I'm not really here for me.”

He took a pause, staring at me. “Well, what is it then ?”, I pressed, puzzled.

“I-I was worried about you, professor, actually”, he began, avoiding my gaze by looking intensely at the leather-bound version of the Odyssey, at the end of my desk.

“Worried about me ?”, I only repeated, hoping to have a bit more information.

“Well, you haven't been responding to my e-mails in some while, and, no offense, but you look sort of tired.”

That kid would be the end of me. I leaned back into my seat. He was a bit annoying at times, but his boldness was at the very least amusing. I smiled at him, hoping it would put him a bit more at ease, as I could see he was already regretting his last sentence.

“I am tired, actually, but you'll see this when you'll try and get a doctorate”, I joked.

That seemed to make him have a couple of laughs, but he still had that crease between his thick eyebrows.

“I know you met my mother”, he told me.

Ah. He looked almost apologetic. Children seem to often have to find excuses for their parents, as they're often more conscious of the feelings of others, while adults mostly aren't. I knew that look, as I had found myself presenting it a lot.

“I have met Mary Van Helsing, yes.”

He shifted on the edge of his seat. “She told you about professor Balaur, didn't she ?”

Gods, more lies. What the hell was I supposed to tell this kid ?

“She did, although I'm... not sure what to think of it”, I prudently told him.

“I'm sorry”, he almost cut me off. “I'm- I'm the one who told her about him, I was worried and I didn't think she'd actually come to you. I know she can be... Well. You know.”

I wasn't even angry at him. I could have been, easily, especially given how on edge I was. I couldn't imagine what it would have been like. As children, we believe in monsters, hiding in the closet, or under your bed, lurking in the shadows. But at the very least, you had your parents reassure you, tell you they aren't real. That they can't hurt you. I wondered if his parents told him about all they did. Mary Van Helsing didn't seem like the sort to go soft, but I hadn't met his dad. With luck, he was a regular guy, and took care of not traumatizing his kid into anxiety disorders and paranoia. Although, on that particular count, he had been right. I wished he'd kept his worries to himself. Then again... That was an odd coincidence that he should show up exactly the semester after I met Vlad. I think he believed it was just that, a coincidence, but I was starting to suspect foul play there. Mary Van Helsing didn't seem like one to leave things to fate.

“Don't worry about that”, I tried to reassure him as best I could. “I work with medieval historians all the time, it takes a lot to scare me.”

He had a little laugh, sounding less nervous ans shaky than before.

“You should know”, he added, a bit hesitant. “My mother has her flaws, but she is rarely wrong. Professor Balaur is often around you... I can only tell you to be careful.”

I smiled, and promised him I would be. Gods, if he knew. He had a few more questions, about my class and the use of some cartography software that I knew for a fact was nightmarish to use. He then took his leave, while I remained seated in my office, without really having a reason to.

I say “my” office, even though I supposedly share it with two other doctorate students. They were rarely there, and if it was only a coincidence that we never crossed paths, they didn't seem to mind that I used half their shelves for my own stuff, and even their desks. More often than not, then, even here, I was alone. Now that I thought of it, my life since I finished my master's degree had been more nocturnal than ever. If you asked anyone who would be more likely to be a vampire between Vlad and I, I'd be the surer choice.

Realizing that I wouldn't be able to get any more work done tonight, I decided to take my leave for the day. It was close to midnight, and the last tramways ran little after that hour, so if I wanted to avoid two hours of walking, I should probably find a way to get that last one. I gathered my stuff, and slipped my laptop into my bag. Once again, at that sort of hour, no one remained on campus. The empty corridors seemed too long, too narrow, repeating my steps after me, just to spook me. You know, that feeling when you start thinking “what if someone followed me”, and the more you try to brush it off and make light of it, the more you want to walk faster, and dread looking back ?

At this point, I was practically running, when I forced myself to get a grip. I breathed in, deeply, and stopped. Standing in the middle of the main hall, only lit by pale moonlight, I controlled my breathing until my legs stopped shaking. Slowly, but deliberately, I turned back, my heart sinking into my stomach. Obviously, there was nothing to be seen.

A bit reassured, if not completely serene, I continued towards the exit, and stepped out into the cold night air. If the silence of the inside was eerie, outside, the multitude of noises the night produced were worse. A rustle of leaves, a gust of wind, howling and whistling in the crooks of the buildings. I sighed. Everything was fine. Creepy atmosphere never killed anyone, as far as I was aware of. Still, I walked as fast as I could, not wanting to linger for more than absolutely necessary.

Eris...

The voice made me stop dead in my tracks. It echoed in my mind, soft, and deep, but somewhat... Metallic. Scraping. Like rusty gears coated in honey. I wondered for a second if it might have been Vlad, playing a very questionable prank on me. He didn't seem like one to particularly enjoy practical jokes, except the occasional dramatic entrance. I elected to ignore it, and started walking again.

Eris.

This time, the voice was insisting, more firm. It still seemed to come from deep withing myself, which was... unnerving, as it left no idea as where to look for it. I stopped once again. Bracing myself, I turned, looking back. Nothing, no one.

Right behind you.

I swiftly turned around, not freezing for whatever miracle, only to gaze onto the empty campus once more. That was, until I turned back, and noticed a silhouette, over in the distance. It was tall, long. It almost looked like it... Shifted, undulated in the wind. Like something you see through great heat. It was dark, so much that I couldn't actually distinguish any particular features, except two bright dots of light, where its face would be. I didn't dare move, or blink. I was sure if I moved a muscle, or looked anywhere else, it might disappear, or move closer, like a sick game of 'Red light, Green light'.

Eris.

The voice was even more grating, dark, so low that I could feel it vibrate in my bones. I had the gun. In a pocket I quickly sewed in the lining of my coat. I knew where it was, the movement I'd have to do to take it. Yet, I was unable to move. No matter how hard I tried, no matter the tears starting to stream down my face.

I think fear doesn't begin to describe what feeling was settling all over my body, from the pit of my stomach. It stretched over my every limb, like a fungus, spreading to every cell, encasing every bone in a mycellium of primal dread. The only sound I could hear was that of my own raspy, trembling breathing, coming out choked, and leaving me craving for air. I heard the faint sound of Leah's ringtone, in my pocket. It turned off.

It didn't move, yet was closer. It wasn't a thing. It didn't feel human, it didn't feel neither here nor elsewhere. A persistence of vision, engraved into my iris. For a moment, I wanted to believe I only fell asleep at my desk, and the whole thing was just a nightmarish delirium. Leah's ringtone broke the silence again, and turned off. Again.

It was feet from me now. I could make out the vague outline of a suit, that hung weirdly on the body. The body... If you could call it that. It could have looked like a human, if you only glanced at it, from afar. I didn't have that sort of luck, however, and was very privy to its deformities. The sleeve stopped at mid-forearm. A long, thin forearm, hairless, skin white as parchment, so dry it looked like it would crumble to ash if I touched it. The hands were swollen, too long, too... they almost looked like someone gave a vague instruction as to what a hand looked like, and it grew them from that description. My eyes fell on his chest. The shirt was too small, the buttons struggling to keep it in place, even though the thing was sickly slender. What terrified me was the darkness behind the holes, stretched out between the buttons. Not as if its skin was dark in itself, but an utter and complete void.

A hand stretched out, and still, I could do nothing but silently cry as a fingernail dragged across my cheek. Even though the movement was disturbingly light, and slow, I could feel the nail dig into my skin, and blood blend into my tears.

I see why he chose you...

Its mouth did not move. To be fair, it was more of a slightly agape slit than a mouth. The details of its face were fuzzy, shifting, like something... Crawled under its skin. I felt the other hand press onto my back, tearing through my clothes like paper, and into my skin. I couldn't even scream. The hand near my face sunk into my hair, and pulled my head aside, revealing my neck. The slit opened, ripping the skin at the edges as it became larger, revealing dozens of needle-like teeth, gleaming in the absolute darkness of the mouth. The jaw unhinged itself as it opened wider, and lowered into my neck, excruciatingly slowly. I wondered if it enjoyed seeing me sobbing in terror as much as it would enjoy killing me.

I had no doubt I would die, there and then. I started to feel the little points setting against my skin, on my neck, shoulder, my chest. They sank in with no resistance.

What a waste...

I don't know if you have ever had blood sucked out of you, but I wouldn't recommend it. It's not like bleeding out, after a cut. No. You feel your veins forcefully pulse from inside your body, the blood forced to turn back as it was supposed to run the other way. It feels like maggots, running inside your body by the hundred, and the worst part is the sound. That slurping, wet sound of tongue and teeth and the gurgling of-

Everything was dark.

I found myself standing in darkness like I'd never seen before. I had been in caves, lights all out, and still nothing compared to this. I could see myself, but no shadows set anywhere on my body. It was cloaked in some sort of robe, that felt more like a shapeless, thick smoke. I felt some solid ground, though I couldn't have told what it felt like, even barefooted.

“Is anyone here ?”

My voice seemed to carry nowhere. No one answered. Was I already dead ? Was it what death was like ? Unending darkness and silence ? Nothing to feel, to touch, to hear ? The sudden presence that manifested behind me almost made me jump. It might always have been there, now that I thought of it. I didn't need to ask if I was dying. I felt at peace with it, somehow. A low humming filled the silence. Not ominous. Almost like a lullaby. I closed my eyes, not that it made any sensible difference. A small tingle ran over my limbs, and as it went up, I lost sensation to them entirely, until nothing remained, but the humming. Soft, until my mind, like an eye, finally closed.

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Taglist : @carydorse @angelicdestieldemon @bloodhon3yx @thewondernanazombie @battocar @moony691 @mjlock @thebeautyofdisorder @festering-queen @paracosmfantasy @lost-girl-inc

[bri-borg]

stars of lovingness in her hair

A/N: Hi, this was inspired by an ask that I sent @brian-absolutely-can ​ about uni/baby Bri and studying and her response just SENT me so now we’re here. It is not 100% in compliance with the original ask because I don’t know how to be concise. Also this isn’t beta’d and was edited by me, a tired person. Also I haven’t written any fic for any fandom in a While, so I’m a bit rusty. But this is my first fic for this fandom on this new blog so wahoo! Also this is 100% self indulgent academia (you can TELL what my major is reading this) slow burn friends to lovers mutual pining and it is going to take us a hot minute to get anywhere becasue I Live To Yearn

summary: its 1969. bri is on his last year at uni, and put off his electives until now, and y/n is a few years down, also completing her degree at imperial. the two of them see each other in the library quite a bit. bri and y/n end up becoming study buddies, he helps her with maths, and the sciences she helps him with his humanities courses. although the two of them are initially attracted and drawn to one another they become good friends.

—————————————————————————

The warm light of the morning sun filtered in through the fogged up window pane as you sat, legs tucked gently behind the hard wood of your chair, nose buried in old, yellowing pages. Your brows knit in confusion as you tried to decipher the overly-complicated words strung along to create sentences that never seemed to find their end. You fiddled with your pencil, gently drumming it against the dog-eared edges of your notes, before you caught yourself and stopped. Looking up and around you it seemed everyone was as high strung as you were for your examinations, every other student looking as if they’d spent the night there, their faces obscured by stacks of dusty leather-bound books as they attempted to keep their heads up. 

Shifting your gaze towards the heavy creak of the wooden doors you saw him walk into the library, his saddle bag slung awkwardly across his tall frame, the sleeves of his shirt barely reaching down to cover his wrists—his handsome face obscured behind haphazardly straightened strands of stubborn curls. Even when it wasn’t particularly hectic you always saw him at the library. His long legs often hitting the underside of the table as he crouched, eyes flitting across complicated equations printed onto endless white pages of his dense physics books. You tried your best to focus on your own studies, whenever he was there, but couldn’t help stealing a glance or two. And though you never spoke there was this sense of familiarity between the two of you. You couldn’t help but smile at the way he almost shyly craned his head around, looking for a seat. Right. Focus. Reading.

La rue assourdissante autour de moi hurlait.

Longue, mince, en grand deuil, douleur majestueuse,

Une femme passa, d’une main fastueuse

Soulevant, balançant le feston et l’ourlet—

“Um, pardon me,” a voice said all of a sudden, causing your head to snap up to meet the stranger’s gaze. Oh. It was him. 

“I don’t mean to interrupt you but I was wondering if I could, erm sit here? If it’s not taken that is.” He continued, pointing towards the seat in front of you.

“What? Oh! Yes, of course. It’s no problem at all,” you said, returning the smile as you hastily reached for your books to give him some room. He gave you a little smile and muttered an endless string of thank-yous as he began setting his things down and—

Clink! Your metal canister toppled over as he accidentally nudged it with his hand. The two of you scramble in a panic to prevent your morning earl grey from soaking your handwritten notes. 

“Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit. I’m so sorry I really didn’t mean to—“ 

“No, it’s quite alright it was an accident—“ 

“Yes, but I’ve gone and ruined your notes—“

“I’m sure you didn’t mean to—I shouldn’t even have—“

“Ahem,” the both of you heard a voice interrupt. Shit. It was the librarian, with a look on his face that showed just exactly how unamused he was of the whole situation. 

“The both of you know fully well that we do not allow beverages of any sort in this library. I suggest the both of you clean up the mess you’ve made and take your conversation elsewhere. If this should happen again I’ll have you both banned.” 

Heat seemed to creep up the boy's neck and flush his cheeks with a pink as he tried to quell his anxieties and clean everything up as fast as he could. The librarian’s stern gaze followed from behind his half-moon spectacles as the two of you walked briskly towards the door, not even bothering to put your notebooks back in your bags.

“I’m really really sorry—“ he said, once the two of you had gone outside. His head was hanging low, and his eyes shifting as he avoided your gaze.

“It’s alright. Really. You don’t have to apologize. To be quite honest with you I wasn’t making much progress anyway,” you joke, trying to ease his anxieties as you shoved your dog-eared and thoroughly stained notebook back into your bag.

“At least let me buy you tea then—or anything you’d like for lunch really. I owe you.” He said, fiddling with the frayed edges of his saddle bag.

“You don’t have to—“ you say shaking your head. What? Why? You mentally kick yourself in the leg for saying no. 

“No please, I want to. It’s the least I could do.”

You nod, almost too enthusiastic, swallowing as he let out a sigh of relief and smiled at you, his hazel eyes warm and kind like his smile.

The two of you walk along the cobblestone path, admiring the gold of the morning sun peeking through the gaps in the trees, illuminating the fading orange and red of the trees. The two of you spent a moment walking in silence navigating your way through campus and out onto the busy London streets.

He broke the silence when you accidentally brushed your hand against his. “I-my name’s Brian. I don’t know if I said already. Hi.” He held out a hand, hoping that you wouldn’t note how cold or sweaty his hands were.

You smile at him, laughing softly at the realization that you hadn’t told each other your names yet.

“No you hand’t said it yet. Nice to meet you, Brian,” you say, taking his hand and returning the smile, “I’m Y/N.” 

The two of you eventually made your way to the cafe around eleven—the two of you managing to nestle yourselves in a table by the alcove window, which opened up to show the busy London streets. At Brian’s insistence he’d bought you a warm cup of tea—earl grey, and a scone with a side of raspberry jam. 

“You’re in Madame Augillard’s morning lecture, yeah?” You ask him, trying your best to keep the crumbs from falling over your blouse as you took a bite. “How’d you find it?”

Brian nods, “Yeah, I am. To tell you the truth it’s not really my best subject, “ he says, with a frown. “I’m actually in astrophysics and it’s actually my last year, so I’m taking her class to get my credits. Breadth and humanities and all.”

“I could tutor you, if you’d like—well, not tutor you, but I could help,” you offer. Brian’s face perks up at your offer and he nods almost immediately. “I’m no expert at all, and I’m really only doing it for the language credit as well, but I’d say I’m decent. And I read in an article once that learning new languages with a someone else works better as we’d be able to practice conversation.” You fidget with the handle of your teacup, awaiting his answer—though you didn’t have to wait too long.

“Y/N, you’re a life saver,”he says, “I don’t know how I can thank you enough! I’ll buy you all the scones you want—

“Oh you don’t have to do all that—although if you’re good at maths you could help me out as I’m rather shite at that,” you say with a laugh.

“I am,” he says, “I’ll help you—yeah, you could help me out with French and I could help you out in maths—it’ll be great! We can go over to my flat on Thursday evenings—so it’ll just be the two of us.” 

As the words leave his mouth his face quickly flushes a deep pink and his eyes widen before he adds, “to study! It’s really quiet there—well, not when my roomate’s around, but we can study anywhere you’d like…” his voice almost tralis off and grows smaller before he speaks again, to rescue the conversation from his fumbling awkwardness. “And I’m certain you’re not utterly hopeless in maths, I for one, believe that everyone’s good at maths—they just aren’t confident enough.”

“Oh, Brian, you haven’t seen me try,” you warn him, feigning an expression of horror that earns you a laugh. “Right. Enough about maths—I’d rather we don’t even speak of it. So you’re in astrophysics, you say?”

“Yeah, I um, specialize in the study of interplanetary dust, the um, calculating the distance of dust between us and the sun—and you can in fact see it! If you’re in the right place at the right time—on a very clear sky—a very dark sky, and it’s called zodiacal light—um.” He pauses before speaking again. “I’ve gone on too long about meself now, haven’t I?”

“No, not at all,” you say, shaking your head.

“No, it’s nothing really—all boring and useless I’m afraid. What about you, Y/N?” He looks embarrassed as he asks you, his hand reaching over to rub at the back of his neck.

“I’m in philosophy—which, if we’re talking about “boring and quite useless,” I think I take the cake,” you say with a somewhat sad smile, fingers dancing over the lip of your mug.

“Oh I don’t think that’s true,” Brian protests.

“I don’t either,” you say, with a sigh, “but everyone else seems to think so. I think it’s fascinating trying to find out answers, question and deconstruct things—but it doesn’t make any money so I’m afraid everyone agrees on the general consensus that what I’m studying is quite useless.”

“Well, I don’t. I’m studying dust, and I know there’s not really a lot of money in that, but it’s what I like studying,” he says, hand reaching over to yours to reassure you, before quickly drawing it away when he thinks his touch has lingered for too long.

“I think it’s fascinating,” he continues,”—the pursuit of truth, love and knowledge and all that. So what is it in philosophy do you specialize in then?” He asks, his expression one of genuine curiosity.

“Truth, love and knowledge and all that,” you say, with a smile, halfway hidden behind your teacup as you brought it to your lips. “Anything else you like to do besides calculate the ‘distance of dust between us and the sun’?” you muse.

“Actually yeah, I play guitar for this band called Smile. We do a couple gigs round the pubs in town.”

“Oh yes I’ve heard of you—I’ve been meaning to come along with my roomate, but I haven’t found the time yet—I’ll definitely make time now” you say, excitedly. “Well my roomate’s always going on about how great you all are—I might just have to see for myself. I think she might have a crush on your drummer, though, the way she talks about him.”

“Oh yes,” Brian chuckles almost shaking his head fondly, “Rog tends to have that effect on women, so I’ve been told—by him that is.” 

The two of you spend hours talking, almost forgetting whatever it was the both of you had set out to do that morning. You listen in amazement as he tells you about his guitar that he’d built with his father, and laugh as he tells you about the chaos introduced in his life by having Roger move in as his flatmate—and the additional chaos of having Roger’s new friend from the antiques shop come over. Brian, in return, is ever the gentleman, listening as intently as you did to your stories about your professor who had worn his son’s shoe by accident and complained about how his feet had grown just now for two hours. You smile to yourself whenever you make Brian laugh, liking the warmth and softness in his voice when he did.

Eventually your eye drifts down towards Brian’s watch, and you jolt out of your chair, realizing that you were five minutes late to Professor. McCook’s literature lecture. “Oh shit, I nearly forgot I’ve a class to get to—I’m sorry Bri, but it was really nice having lunch with you and talking and all.”

“Oh, yeah, don’t even worry about it,” he says, standing up as well. Although he shook his head and held up his hands his voice betrayed the fact that he was definitely a little more than disappointed to be ending lunch with you. “It was really nice talking to you to—I’ve got to dash as well I’spose.” He’s stood up, fully expecting you to rush out of the cafe, but you don’t just yet. Picking up your bag from the floor you reach in and grab a pencil and a piece of paper from your notebook still tinged with your earl grey. 

“Here,” you say, writing your telephone number down and handing it to Brian. “If Suzie answers just ask for me—though I’m at home more than she is. Give me a call tonight and we’ll settle that French and Math study session, yeah?”

Brian beams at you, holding up the piece of paper before promptly putting it in his shirt’s pockets. 

“Yeah, right—of course. I’ll talk to you later then.” 

The two of you exchange your goodbyes and even when you’ve made it out onto the streets, Brian gives you a little wave as you smile at him through the fogged up glass of the cafe window.

[cncohdamn]

Zabdiel - 36: “We’ll figure it out”

Word count: 1,700+

look at me I’m back y’all

I hope this isn’t bad, I’m a little rusty. Enjoy!!

It’s been 5 months with this gentle giant and you’re probably the happiest you’ve been in a long time. His calm and relaxed nature took away your stress and anxiety, and his goofy and silly side brought joy and sunshine to your life. His hugs and embraces surrounded you with warmth; his kisses were sweet, tender, and caring. You loved him so much in such a short amount of time, and he felt the exact same.

And that’s probably how you ended up here, sitting on the bathroom floor, silently bawling your eyes out with the stick in your hand. That little stick changed everything within seconds. The plus sign. Four sticks and four plus signs later, the reality of it all was yet to sink in.

Recently you started feeling nauseous in the morning, only chalking it up to be a cold or from bad food. Your cycle was relatively regular so when you missed your period your heart sunk like a ship inside your chest.

With the proof right in front of you, you thought back since your last period. The boys brought you clubbing a couple nights, and in the midst of drunken love, you two may have forgotten a condom a time or two. Mistake number one.

The two of you had been intimate in your relationship for a while now and not once did birth control cross your mind. Condoms should be good enough, right? Not when you forget them. Mistake number two.

“Amor, ¿todos bien?” Zabdiel’s voice called from the other side of the bathroom door. He had stayed at your place for the night, but you thought he was asleep.

“Oh, e-everything’s fine!” You tried your best to mask the noticeable change in your voice from crying. “I was just gonna get in the shower!”

“Do you want me to join?” He chuckled. It made you happy, but as you stared at that pink and white stick, his words kind of stung.

“I’m running late for work amor, maybe next time.” What a stupid excuse.

“Pues, I’m going to go meet Richard, I’ll call you later cariña. Te quiero.” He made a kissy noise barely audible through the wooden door.

“Te quiero más.”

You waited to hear the front door shut before you tossed the stick in with the others in the trash, wrapped the bag up, and snuck it downstairs to the dumpster to hide the evidence.

You did actually shower and go to work despite the stress.

“(Y/N), you’re practically glowing,” your coworker said.

“Oh, thank you. It’s this new skin routine,” you lied, giving a small fake smile.

—

After work in the safety of your apartment, you called your best friend, ready to cry. The second she said hello you blurted out the news.

“(Y/F/N), I’m pregnant.”

“What?” She said, surprise in her voice. “Are you playing with me right now?”

“No,” you sniffled, “I missed my period and took four tests, all positive. What am I going to do?”

“Have you told Zabdiel yet?” She questioned.

“No, how can I tell him that? Our relationship has barely been made public, what if it ruins his career?” You started to choke on your words now, hot tears streaming down your red cheeks.

“(Y/N) it’ll be okay. Maybe schedule a doctors appointment and see what they say, and how far along you are. This will give you some time to think and weigh your options,” she sighed. “Do you want me to come over? I can bring ice cream.”

“I’ll see if I can make an appointment,” you mumbled. “I could always go for some ice cream,” You brought up your scratchy sleeves and wiped your eyes dry.

Not long after your phone call your best friend showed up at your door, a few different flavors of ice cream in hand. You two spent the night watching movies and eating junk food, something the two of you had always done together to unwind.

—

Your doctor predicted you to be about a month along. You still haven’t told Zabdiel, and you weren’t sure if you even could. You wanted him to be happy, and you wanted the best for his career. A baby would interfere with that. Hell, you even interfered with that. When the public found out he had a girlfriend, they nearly lost their minds. The backlash was insane. You couldn’t force him to go through that again with the baby. It would be even worse than just a dating scandal - he was having a child with a girl he hadn’t even been dating for a year.

A month passed by and you had seen the doctor again since then, only telling your boyfriend you were feeling sick to your stomach.

“What did the doctor say amor?” Zabdi asked with a little pout, his hand cupping the side of your face as he pecked your forehead.

“Oh, I just have a stomach virus, I’ll be okay,” you smiled, leaning up to peck his lips.

“Are you okay to go celebrate Joel’s birthday?” His hand found his way to yours, fingers intertwining.

“Sí, I’m perfectly okay, don’t worry.” You reassured him and gave his hand a squeeze. “I’ll go get ready.”

You threw on a pair of leggings and a hooded sweatshirt. Thankfully you weren’t going clubbing or partying, it was just a little get-together with a group of people at Richard’s house, so it was more laid back and casual. You slid into your sneakers and left for your friend’s party with your doting boyfriend by your side.

“¡Feliz cumpleaños mi Joelito!” You shouted when he opened the door, surprising him with a big hug.

“Gracias, (Y/N),” he chuckled. Zabdiel handed him his gift and gave him a hug with a similar greeting.

“Feliz cumpleaños, hermano.”

You left them to talk and greeted the other boys on your way to the kitchen. You nibbled on a slice of pizza and handed Zabdiel a slice when he found you.

“Want a glass of champagne, baby?” Your boyfriend asked, grabbing one for himself.

“Mm, no, thank you. I don’t really want to drink tonight.”

“What? (Y/N) doesn’t want a drink?” Richard teased, grabbing a beer from the fridge. “That’s weird.”

“You’re weird,” you joked, munching on some chips. You dipped a chip in some mustard and ketchup you had mixed on a plate.

“Says the girl eating chips with burger condiments.”

“It’s so good, though!” You exclaimed, taking another bite.

“Want some popcorn?” Zabdi asked, gesturing the bowl.

The greasy, buttery smell bothered you to the point you nearly threw up in your mouth.

“No, thank you,” you shook your head, not looking at the food.

“¿Qué? You normally love popcorn,” he said. Eventually, he shrugged and set the bowl to the side. “I’m going to go find Chris,” he said and quickly pecked your temple before leaving the kitchen.

“So what’s the deal, (Y/N)?” Richard asked in a hushed voice once the kitchen was clear, leaning against the counter near you.

You raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“You’re dressed down for a party, you’re eating weird shit, you refuse to eat your favorites, you’re not drinking at a party…”

“We all have weird food combos we like, and I just.. don’t want popcorn right now.”

“The other day when we went out for fast food you dipped your fries in your milkshake. People do it, but you don’t. You usually dog on Chris for eating it that way. You just decided it was a great food combination all the sudden?” Richard interrogated. He pulled at the pocket of your sweatshirt.

“And what’s this? It’s not very cold out and you’re at a party. I’ve dealt with these signs firsthand, (Y/N). Trying to hide something?”

“Richard, I can’t tell him.” He broke you. He saw right through you.

“How far along are you?” He sighed.

“About… about two months… or more…” you averted your eyes to the floor.

“Two months?” Richard shouted without realizing it until after. “You have to tell Zabdiel, he deserves to know.” He was softer with his words this time.

“Richard, I can’t tell him!”

“Tell me what?” Zabdiel interrupted, standing near the kitchen door.

You rapidly shifted your gaze to your confused boyfriend.

“I,” you nearly whispered, “I…”

Tears began to flow like waterfalls down your cheeks, sending Zabdi into a panic.

“Amor, why are you crying? What’s wrong?” The giant hurried to your side and wrapped one lanky arm around your frame, his thumb on the opposite hand wiping away every tear he could.

“I’m pregnant,” you finally blurted out.

“P-please don’t hate me.” You mumbled after a moment of deafening silence.

“Amor, mírame mi vida, how could I hate you?” He tilted your chin up.

“I don’t want th-this to wreck everything you’ve w-worked so h-hard for,” you were sobbing at this point, choking on the words you’ve been thinking over and over since you found out.

“It won’t, I promise, it won’t,” he hushed you, holding you close to him as if his life depended on it. “We’ll figure it out. Baby, it will be okay.”

“But your fans don’t like me already,” you sniffled, using the cuff of your sweatshirt’s sleeve to dab at the tears your boyfriend missed.

“Well, Richard has Aaliyah, doesn’t he? Y él todavía está aquí.” His manly arms trapped you against his abdomen.

Your dainty hands reached up and held onto his biceps while your head rested on his chest. “I guess so…”

“You know what?” He dropped an arm and rummaged through his pocket to grab his phone. Zabdiel, still holding you close with his other arm, extended his phone into the air. Hidden in his embrace, the only thing the camera could see was your puffy, wet eye and Zabdiel’s happy, goofy smile. He added another photo of the two of you that you had taken on your third date.

“What are you doing?” You whined.

Instagram was pulled up on his phone. His thumb moved at a rapid pace as he typed the caption: “Today is the best day of my life. I found out my beautiful novia is pregnant with my beautiful baby. Estoy tan feliz. I hope you’re all happy for us, too. Te amo mucho, mi vida @(your insta handle) ❤️”

His phone blew up the second after he hit ‘Post.’ The majority of the comments were nice and congratulating.

“Way to steal the limelight, guys!” Joel shouted from the other room.

Zabdiel gave you a squeeze as you both chuckled.

“I told you it would be okay. Us and our future baby will be okay.”