#hopefully at least i find out a way to fix my fucking keys (by myself preferably! but i tried every method and it still didn't work!)

[bravevolunteer]

made an appointment to talk about keyboard repair this weekend ... but i am also looking into laptops in general bc mine is on its last fucking legs after 8 years of putting it through art and rp hell and i have been aware that i'd probably start needing to look into it during my last two years of college anyway..

[beelsbignaturals]

Dead is the New Alive

A/N: Happy birthday to me!!! To celebrate being a dramatic pisces, I've decided to finally post this super self-indulgent self insert MC fic! It's definitely a work in progress but the intended audience is literally me and whoever is unfortunate enough to stumble across this. Big thank you to Aki for helping with literally everything ily homie! Yes the first scene is low-key a songfic. The song is What Will I Remember by Emilie Autumn if you want to give it a listen. Title is also an Emilie Autumn song. Guess what album I listened to while writing lmao. Anyways enjoy!

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Warnings: Blood, gore, violence, character death (ish), teeth, strong language

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What will I remember?

"Does it hurt? Finding it hard to breathe? I'm sure it must be very unpleasant." The sadistic ass was taunting me. Quite literally adding insult to injury

What will I forget?

I did all this because I saw how much this family was hurting and this is the thanks I get?Someone laughing over me as the life drains from my eyes? After I go through all of this bullshit some stupid demon thinks he has every right in the world to end my life?

Honestly, if I didn't have claws tearing into my throat while this asshole is crushing my windpipe, I'd probably be tempted to smack that stupid grin off his face. Unfortunately, I'm in survival mode.

When this life is ending and gone

Fine. You want to kill me? I came into the world screaming and covered in someone else's blood. I plan on leaving the same way. It's game time, bitch.

What will I regret?

The next few moments are a blur of flailing limbs. One particularly well-timed kick sends me falling to the floor. Not risking it, l don't bother to catch my breath. Breathing is secondary. I need to run.

If tomorrow I don't wake up, what happens?

Moonlight shines through a nearby window like a beacon. Here goes nothing.

My sunrise, or sunset?

One foot in front of the other. Just keep running. He's behind you. Keep going. Almost there..

If I never were born

Fuck. Strong arms grab me, stopping any chance of escape. No. It's not over. I'm so close. I sink my teeth into the nearest thing I can find. Not letting go until I hear a sickening crunch followed by a string of curses. Name another human who took a chunk of flesh out of a demon's hand. I'll wait.

If I never died

Last shot. Come on. Somehow, I find the strength to launch myself out the window. Glass tears my arms to ribbons, but l'm flying and l'm free. Eat your heart out, Sally Hardesty.

Would it even matter at all?

All too soon, I collide with the pavement, knocking what little air I had left out of my lungs. I drag my bloodied body along, rocks and broken glass digging into my palms. I keep going until I physically can't move.

What should I decide?

Hopefully this will buy me enough time for someone to realize what happened. I mean. They wouldn't let me die, right? If even Belphegor was right and they didn't give a shit about me.. at the very least Lucifer wouldn't want the exchange program to be a failure. It would mess with Diavolo's plans. I'm not dying.

I always imagined I'd mean something to

someone

At least that's what I try to convince myself. The blood loss would beg to differ. But. I'll be okay. I'm sure magic will fix me up in no time. Just stay awake until help arrives. I try to focus on all the things I'll miss if I fall asleep. Late night nacho shenanigans with Beel. Watching Legally Blonde with Asmo. Helping Mammon hide from Lucifer. Kicking Levi's ass at DevilKart. All these precious moments that I'd hate to never experience again.

If I won't, 'least I tried

I'm fading in and out of consciousness. Time feels funny. Everything is in brief snippets. After what could have been hours or minutes. I register someone speaking. It doesn't sound familiar. Pressure on my chest. Sharp pain in my neck. Belphegor must've caught up with me. I wait for more torture but it doesn't come. Just a strange numbness. Decorating cakes with Luke. Feeding stray cats with Satan.

When my body suffers

So much yelling. It's too loud. I think I'm being moved? That's Mammon's voice! I did it. I'm safe. Why is he crying? They can fix me, right? It's too cold. Maybe not.

When to breath is pain

Levi is here, too! Maybe.. no. He's crying too. Oh. I guess this is it. At least I'm not alone.

Is it really madness to think

I try to reach for the nearest person. Maybe I can will someone hold my hand? No, that just made them move more. Don't leave me! Please.

Think of breaking this chain?

"Lucifer, get yer ass out here," He's staying. Thank fuck.

Is the future mine?

"Alaura, can you hear me?" After a failed attempt at nodding my head, which honestly just hurts way too much, I opt to try again to find Mammon's hand. This time, I'm actually successful.

It's kind of funny how, despite the fact I lay here dying, this is the most alive and real I've felt in a long time. These last few months have been spent on autopilot. Honestly, I didn't really believe any of it was real. I suppose death has a sobering effect.

God knows I have a past

So much commotion. So many voices. Not like I can understand much of what they are saying. Not when it all blurs together. I hold onto Mammon like a lifeline. Which, I suppose he is.

Where's my second chapter?

It seems they decide it is in everyone's best interest to not leave me lying on the ground in the middle of the night. That would be great if not for the fact they have to move me.

Or will the first also be my last?

The gaping throat wound is, understandably, not fucking pleasant. When strong arms lift me off the pavement, I struggle with energy I didn't know I had left. Kicking and screaming until it feels like my vocal cords are fried.

Is my story over if I fall asleep?

"I know, I'm sorry." The second born whispers, rings digging into my skin. Or maybe that's more glass. Regardless, he cradles my head against his chest, minimizing any movement that would further irritate my injuries.

Would anybody find me?

Crashing can be heard throughout the house. Part of me hopes Belphegor falls through a window too. Just for a small taste of his own medicine.

And would anybody weep?

With that pleasant thought, sleep takes over

I can't even pretend I care

But songs I'll never sing

Well, that means something

Yes, that means something

The next few days are spent in relative darkness. I can't see but I hear everything. It's like a strangely pleasant sleep paralysis. Plus I'm never alone for long. Asmo sits beside me, gently plucking glass from my skin, cleaning wounds of any dirt, and using a cloth to wet my lips and prevent dehydration. I get a whole manicure while he tells me about how I "got Belphie good". Apparently the majority of the dried blood stuck under my nails isn't even mine.

If it's not Asmo, it's Mammon. Half of the time he's moaning about how stupid I am. The rest is spent begging me to wake up. I try to find a way to tell him I'm right here. I'm awake. But I'm frozen in place. I don't think I've ever heard him cry this much.

Occasionally, Satan will pay a visit. Reading the Odyssey to keep me entertained. He's also the only one to update me on what's actually going on. From his visits, I can gather that I had a second attacker, not just Belphegor. The plot thickens. I barely have time to process that before learning said bitch was a vampire. This whole paralysis was just the beginning of my transformation.

Yeah, that's a hard pill to swallow.

I'm not left to think on it long. It turns out that one of the only two humans in the Devildom disappearing off the face of the earth does not go unnoticed. Doubly so when it comes to the resident angels.

With that in mind, I suppose it's not really a surprise that Luke all but breaks into the House of Lamentation, demanding to know what those horrible demons have done.

It'd be sweet if not for the little fact the second he got within ten feet of me, it feels like my bones are melting. You could tell me the air has turned to boiling water and I'd believe you.

His tiny body rushes into the room, grabbing my arm. "Oh, Alaura! Don't worry, I'll save you!"

I can only scream in agony as my flesh sizzles in his grasp. Shocked, Luke grabs my face before he gets a fucking clue. Cute kid, not the sharpest crayon in the box.

The pain of it all causes my eyes to open for the first time in days. I can hardly register the blinding light coming from the hallway. Just that this poor kid, who is, granted, older than I will ever be, starts sobbing out apologies as he stumbles backwards.

Smoke comes off my skin in waves, right where the tiny handprints sit. What is happening?

Poor Luke is dragged away, crying while half a dozen demons pour into my room.

Were they always this loud? I can't process the million different voices all speaking at once. It feels like all the small noises are worming their way into my head and eating my brain from the inside out. Footsteps sound like gunshots. The sound of fabric rustling makes me want to rip my hair out. It's too fucking loud.

Eventually catching on, Lucifer orders everyone to let me rest. He carefully applies some sort of ointment to my injuries before following suit. Alone in the dark I can finally begin to piece together what happened.

Belphegor killed me. Or tried to. Someone else swooped in to finish the job. But that's besides the point. Belphegor tried to kill me. It seems the others don't hate me enough to want me dead. Or at the very least are keeping up appearances. I'm not sure where my attempted killer is but I haven't seen or heard about them since that night.

Right... how long has it even been? I'll have to ask when someone comes around again. Knowing my housemates it won't be long before someone sneaks back into my room. Lucifer be damned.

Next order of business... apparently I'm a vampire? Not the most outlandish thing I've seen during my time in the Devildom but it's certainly up there. All I really know is from what Satan's told me and whatever I can find in my notes on Devildom history. Based on what the textbooks say, vampires are extinct in Hell. So how did this happen?

Only one way to find out and I need the facts before I let myself have a crisis. I guess the textbooks are a good starting point. Ignoring my protesting muscles, I drag myself out of bed to find any information I can.

Blah blah due to the vampire population rising at unprecedented rates and the threat to lower level demons, the King called upon the royal army to deal with the infestation.

Infestation? So I'm vermin now?

Startled by sudden pain in my jaw, my mouth opens in a silent gasp. Crimson blood drips onto the page. Just a few specks at first, but before long, I'm nearly choking as the liquid spills from my mouth.

Frantic, I run through the halls. Not particularly caring about the trail of blood I leave in my wake. Thank fuck no one is in the bathroom.

I lock the door behind me. Muscle memory. Before dashing to the mirror.

Holy shit. Maybe I'm not dead but I sure as hell look it. My body is littered with healing cuts, not to mention the two angry handprints that scorched my skin. Then there's my throat. It's healed somewhat but the mangled flesh has barely begun to scar. Honestly, it doesn't look like something I should've survived.

Fuck. The dull throbbing in my mouth turned sharp once again. Mouth opened as wide as I can manage, I try to inspect the affected area, but God, there's so much blood - I hear the small clink of something hitting the ceramic.

Holy shit. No. This isn't... this can't be happening. I'm hyperventilating as I force myself to look down. There's no way that...nope my entire tooth is sitting in the sink. Cool.... this is just great. I'm. I'm just hallucinating. Or something. That's the only explanation. Maybe I ate Solomon's cooking. That could be it. Food poisoning. Really bad food poisoning.

"Alaura?" A low voice interrupts my manic train of thought. "Alaura, please... open the door."

I don't even bother trying. I can hardly hold myself upright. Who's laughing? Is that my voice? Shit. I'm on the floor. When did that happen? The edges of my vision are fuzzy and dark. When I close my eyes, all I can see is a startling picture of my tooth. A small amount of gum is still hanging on for dear life. Much more blood than what could be considered healthy framing it like some grotesque work of art. Shit. My head hits the cold tile, and I'm watching as the door shakes on its hinges. Maybe I should've locked it.

Once again I wake up, tucked snugly in my bed. This time, however, I can spot a certain white-haired demon curled up on my floor, snoring softly. Cute but there is no way that's comfortable. I can see the dark circles and irritated skin, most likely raw from crying.

For a moment I'm transported back to simpler times. Mammon breaking into my room after a night at the casino, ranting about how "shits rigged", before passing out. Usually I'd shove a pillow under his head and throw a blanket over him before going to bed myself. Maybe even play with his hair. It's soft as hell but I know he'd complain if I did it while he was awake. I even got a beanbag chair at one point so his spine doesn't riot. With such a mundane scene, I can almost pretend things are normal.

Almost. When I poke at the tooth causing me grief earlier, I find it is longer and sharper than I remember. No. No. No. No.

"Mammon," I hiss. "Mammon wake up."

He wakes with a start, rubbing sleep from his eyes before jumping into action.

"You're up!"

I nod slowly. Knees hugged to my chest. "Is this real?"

With a sigh he plops down on my bed, walking me through complex math problems until I know without a doubt my subconscious could never make that up.

Teary-eyed, I stare at Mammon before I finally speak again. Talking feels strange with a killer toothache and one fang.

"What now?"

[wolfish-trickster]

Liar

final part (I like number 7, let's end it at number 7)

Loki x female!reader

Word count: 2,9K

Warnings: angst, typos (not when drunk gods are talking, those are intentional), drunk god bros™, hangover

Tag list:@gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld @belovedadam @mascaracoffee @serebrum @myworldgoesboomz @lokis-leah @nickkie1129 @getyoutmoon @forevernthensome

A/N: thank you so much for reading this unexpected mini series❤️

Loki swayed from one side to another. His question still hanging in the air. Thor was struggling to get back up on his feet. When it looked like he's making progress, he fell down on his knees again and had to start over.

"Has any of you ever seen them like that?" Steve whispered.

Everyone shook their heads. Your eyes remained glued to Loki. He never drank. Well, if he had to he drank fine wine or some other 'fancy' alcohol from Tony's stash, but he never drank to the point of being drunk. Only slightly tipsy.

You remember the first time you saw him drink. It was a long time ago. Tony made him. He said it will make him 'turn that frown upside down'. You saw him drain the whole bottle that day and it did nothing to him. Only tainted his pale cheeks with slight pink. You've seen him drink more than a bottle since then, but it was never enough to make him stumble through his words, or sway around like Jack Sparrow. How much did he had?

Anxiety gnawed on you again. 'He drank because of you. Because of what you told him. Your words pushed a literal god to drink his sadness away.'

"Weeeell?" Loki asked again. When Thor fell down with a thud on the floor again Loki rolled his eyes and was at least pretending to help him stand up. You swear you heard him whisper something along the lines of 'get up you outgrown lightning mouse, don't embarass me in front of her', but that could've been just your imagination.

"For god's sake, how much did you guys have?" Sam asked and Bucky stole Rex from his lap while he was distracted.

Thor while leaning on the back of the couch was counting his fingers. After a while he gave up. "A lot. We made our anescesterors proud," he bared his teeth in a proud grin.

"You mean ancestors, right?"

Thor's head turned to Nat. "Yes! We had a whoooole barrel. One for me," he hugged his brooding brother around shoulders (more like leaned on him with his entire weight) "and one for Kiki," the childish nickname earned Thor a massive shove to the side. "Do not call me dat!"

Bruce facepalmed. "Guys, what are we gonna do with them?"

Clint pulled out his phone, recording everything. "Enjoy while it lasts."

You smacked his phone away, a sudden need to protect your (hopefully still) friend's dignity roused inside of you. "You can't!" you said louder than you wanted.

Clint just shook his head. "You're no fun Y/N," and put his phone away.

You frowned at them. "I know. I know I'm no fun, and I am annoying sometimes, and weak and dumb compared to all of you. I know all of that! I don't care!"

Bucky stared up at you. "What has gotten into you doll?"

"I'll tell you what. I was a bitch, okay? I was overthinking everything ever since I had that argument with Loki. His words started something inside of my head. I started to think they were true, that when my best friend thought those things what must all of you think. And even when I knew they were lies those thoughts stayed up here," you pointed at your head, "and I hate myself for still keeping them there. And just when I thought I'll finally make up with Loki and everything will be good again I fuck up!" you wiped an escaped tear, took a breath and continued.

"It's my fault he's like this. He was drinking because of what I said. All of this is because of me," you hugged your arms to comfort yourself a little. Everyone stared at you, including the drunk brothers.

What you were letting out of your mouth probably didn't make sense as a whole. They were just your anxious thoughts getting free, they didn't care in which order. All of that stress, everything that has been rotting inside of your chest is out now. You feel a little better.

"Daaaarlin', 's not your fault," Loki interrupted your train of thoughts, reminding you that just because you talked your heart out, it didn't fix your mistake of hurting him.

"Yeah, and whose then?" you said calmly.

Loki stood up straighter while still swaying a little. "The univers! She won't let us be toge'er, thas why I haf to make up with 'er," his british accent got deeper.

You slowly walked towards him. "No Loki, this is my fault. And I'll fix it too," you took him by his arm and slowly lead him away. To his bedroom. However, he protested.

"Wait! We have to give 'er flowerz," he leaned down to Thor and yanked some of the flowers along with his golden hair from Thor's head. "Y'kno, to makup."

You shook your head and walked with him a little faster. "You don't have to. All you have to do is go to sleep now."

When the Avengers finally came to their senses Bruce shouted after you. "Hey what about Thor?"

"He's all yours," you shouted back from the elevators and pressed button leading to Loki's floor.

*

'He's heavier than he looks,' you think as you get closer to his bedroom door.

He's been leaning on you for support the whole silent (mildly uncomfortably silent) way to his bedroom. He groaned and mumbled something undecipherable here and there. You wished to be already in his room, put him in his bed and dissappear for few hours. You felt so awkward helping your friend who can barely stand after he drank because of you.

"Can you lean on the wall please?" you asked him when you both stood infront of his locked door. He unhooked his arm from around your shoulders and practically threw himself onto the nearest wall.

"Lean, not fall!"

He chuckled. "Sorrey, is the gravity," he mumbled.

You rolled your eyes and fished out a key from his bedroom door from your sweatpant pocket. When the thin metal slid into keayhole Loki threw his arms around you and gently squeezed you. "Are ya real?"

"Eeeh, yes? Why are you asking?"

"Because," he squished your cheeks together, "you're nice to me. And you're cute," he giggled.

You chuckled and removed his hands from your cheeks. "Thanks, but this isn't you. You need to sleep."

"Not me?" he asked, confusion all over his face. He ran his hand across his torso and settled on his face. "But this is my body and my face! It has to be me!"

"Yes, it is, but the acting isn't. Now come," you took his hand and gently lead him through his open door.

You pushed him to sit on his bed and wanted to walk out, but he won't let go of your hands. He studied them like a little child, turning them, looking at them from every angle. You blushed. He hasn't been this tender for a long time.

You cleared your throat. "You need to sleep. You're gonna have a massive hangover tomorrow."

His eyes left your hands resting in his and bore into yours. But they weren't as clear as usual, they were clouded and lost. "Why?"

"Eeeh, because you're drunk?"

"Why?"

"Because you drank?"

"Why?"

"Because-" no, you can't tell him. "It doesn't matter. Just sleep now," you tried to push him to his bed, but even in this state he was strong and unmovable.

"I don't wanna sleep. I need to find Univers!"

"Well, you can find your universe after you sober up."

"Noooo," he shook his head dramatically, his hair whiping around him. "I can't find my universe. YOU are MY universe," he held your hands close to his chest.

"But I need to find THE Universe! With the T'n'H'n'E infront of it," he started to ramble about Universe conspiring against him and you, but you didn't listen.

You stopped listening after he said 'you are my universe'. Did he mean it?

" 'Your' universe?" you asked and finally pushed him to lie down on his bed.

"Yea," he yawned, his eyelids became too heavy for him to keep open. "I know you hate me, but I.... I...," and he was gone. Off to the dreamland.

You stayed there for few more minutes in case he woke up and finished what he wanted to say, but no such thing happened. You could play on drumms next to him and he wouldn't move.

You softly brushed his hair from his face and covered him with his soft black blanket. "I don't hate you Loki. I never did. I just hope you'll be just as nice and calm when you sober up as you were right now," you caressed his cheek for the last time and walked to his door.

Before you closed, you looked back at him and softly whispered. "You are my universe too Loki."

*

Loki's head pulsed with pain. That's what woke him up, actually. Blindly, he felt around him with his hands, trying to find out where he was. Warm blanket, soft bed, his Asgardian armour still on. It was dirty from clay and smelled weird. Almost like.... alcohol?

'Oh,' he thought, 'that happened.'

He groaned and opened his eyes, only to instantly cover them with his palm. Light from the nearby window was stabbing his eyeballs causing him even bigger headache. All he wanted to do was get a big- no, giant cup of cold water and down it just as fast as he was doing with the alcohol yesterday.

But whenever he tried to use his magic only green and gold sparkles flew from his fingers and when he tried to stand up he got dizy and the whole room started to spin. He fell down onto his bed again. He felt as if his brother hit him with Mjolnir, his famous hammer.

If he wanted a cup of water, he will have to suffer through those few steps to his bathroom.

He reluctantly and slowly stood up and walking very close to wall he made his way for a drink. Or three, just in case.

After a long and unpleasant journey he fell onto his bed again, but not before he pulled blinds over the horribly bright window and rid himself of any dirty and uncomfortable clothes, leaving him only in his underwear.

With his head underneath his blanket, to block out any more light, he tried to remember as much of his actions from yesterday as he could.

From your room he went to gym to punch his frustration out. That's where Thor found him, interrogated him and then dragged him to Asgard to have a drink. Or a whole pub apparently. The rest is a blur. Something about garden, flowers and him and his brother crashing down to Midgard to look for someone. Who? He doesn't remember. Maybe you, since he remembered something about flowers. Maybe his drunk self thought it would be best to make up with you.

But that didn't make any sense, he had nothing to apologize for anymore. You were the one who told him those word. Where even were you anyways?

Just as he finished that thought he heard his doorknob move and his door creaked open.he slowly peaked out from underneath the blanket and in the dimness saw a familiar silhouette. You.

Carefully you put one foot infront of the other and walked straight towards him. You must think he's still asleep, that's why you're so careful. Oh, how he longed to pretend to be asleep and then jump at you and scare you. But he can't. He can't let his mischievious nature do that yet. Not when things between you two aren't like they used to be.

Instead he kept his eyes open and when you got close enough, he slightly moved. "Well look who showed up," he said.

You flinched a little. "Thank god you're finally awake. How are you feeling?"

"Horrible, to be honest," he rubbed his temples. "Why did you say 'finally awake'?"

You completely ignored his question. "Do you need anything? Water? Painkillers?"

"How about you give me an answer?"

You sighed. "You were out for two days Loki. I was starting to think you had alcohol poisoning and died in your sleep. I was checking up on you every few hours to make sure you're still with us," you confessed.

"Oh, alright. Thank you. And I don't need anything. I already obtained it," he pointed at his bedside table with three glasses of water.

"Still, your head must be torturing you. I'll bring you some painkillers," you ran outside before he could stop you.

You returned after few minutes with a small box of pills on one hand and a jar of water in the other. "So you don't have to stand up and go to the bathroom after you drink those three cups," you said and put the jar on his bedside table.

"Thank you. You are oddly kind to me," Loki pointed out.

You hummed and awkwardly stood infront of his bed, trying not to look at his naked torso. You fidgeted with the box for a while. "Just take one when you want," you said finally and put it next to the jar.

"Hey, can you tell me what happened yester- I mean two days ago? Was I and Thor a big disaster?" he asked, wanting you to stay with him.

"Well," you chuckled and scratched the back of your head. "It was a bit awkward and confusing. You and Thor appeared on the balcony and you were looking for universe for some reason."

Loki facepalmed. The pain from embarrassment was bigger than the pain his head was causing. "And let me guess, The Earth's Mightiest Heroes recorded everything, didn't they?"

You shook your head. "No, I didn't let them."

"Thank you," he smiled kindly.

You returned the smile. "Hey, can I sit here?" you pointed at the corner of his bed.

"Sure," he moved a little to give you more space. The bed dipped under your weight a little.

"I want to tell you few things," you said, your eyes watched how you fidgeted with your fingers.

"I'm listening."

"First I want to apologize for what I said. I was tetchy and I know it doesn't excuse what I said," you raised your eyes to his. "I just want you to know I didn't mean them. And I'm sorry. I would like to be your friend again. Please."

Loki bit his tongue from teasingly telling you 'no' and took a deep breath. "I would like to be your friend as well. I don't want us to argue anymore. So," he extended his arm towards you, "friends?"

You beamed at him. To him your smile shone brighter than the sun outside. You took his hand and shook it. "Friends."

"I'm glad," he squeezed your hand gently. He didn't want to let go yet. "And what about the rest of what you wanted to tell me?"

"Oh, right," you looked to the side. "You said something yesterday."

"Something offensive? If so, I apologize-"

"No! Not at all! It just..." you bit your lower lip and tilted your head, something you subconsciously did when you blushed. "Y-you said that... I am your universe," you said carefully.

Loki froze. Did he really say that? You didn't look like you were lying. Why did he tell you that? Why were you bringing that up? Did you possibly feel the same and want to be sure he wasn't kidding when he said it?

Loki must've took too long to respond, because you were trying to pull your hand from his and leave. This time Loki was fast to stop you. "I really said that?"

You gulped. "Yes, ehm did you mean it? Wait, you don't remember. Sorry," you chuckled awkwardly.

"If I said that while drunk, I meant it."

"Really?"

"Yes. I once heard 'alcohol reveals, who a person truly is', in that case I am a romantic," he winked and you giggled. He liked the fact you still giggle at his stupid jokes.

"For real now. You are my universe. My best friend. My partner in crime. And if you allow then I would like to add another title: my paramour. If you feel the same way, that is."

You smiled softly and intertwined your fingers with his. "You are my universe as well, Loki."

"Great," he lifted your joined hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand. "When I sober up and feel better I'm officially asking you out on a date."

"How long does it usually take for you to sober up?"

"A day or two," Loki shrugged and fell back onto his bed. His head started spinning again.

"That's too long," you said and layed next to him. "Can I watch over you while you sleep?"

"Sure thing love," he hugged you to him and kissed the crown of your head.

Bonus

"Darling, it's 2pm."

"Yes, so?"

"Aren't you supposed to take Rex out?"

"Bucky is training him."

"Oh, okay."

"You're so sweet to think of him."

"Hmmm."

*meanwhile*

Steve: hey, aren't you supposed to train him?

Bucky: *lying on the floor, Rex napping on his chest*

Bucky: uuuh, I gave him a break.

Steve: *raises one eyebrow*

Bucky: please don't tell her

Steve: only if I can join in

A/N: I was this close to write the angstiest ending, but I have a good mood today

[karlajoyner]

Can you do a smut piece with Owen where he takes you to Hawaii and you guys meet up with the cast and everything, but then later that night he takes you back to the bedroom to show you some real fun. Ik you get this for a while, can’t wait for your other work love your writing style.

So Needy (Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader)

A/n: Hey guys I hope you like this one! I'm sorry I haven't posted in over a week I had a lot of shit to do but I have a few imagines done and I'm working on the rest of my requests so I could hopefully open them up again soon. Also Alex and Reggie now have last names and I’m 1000% freaking the fuck out because it was the last thing I was expecting . I’m gonna go back eventually and put them in all my imagines. And yeah....totally didn’t make me go back and watch the show for the 12th time. It’s a problem....it’s fine. Anyways Enjoy! (Sorry for any typos I always fuck up but I’ll go back and fix them later)

Requested by: @jjbassett (Tumblr)

Warnings: Smut! (18+)

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I walked into the airport tiredly. Thankful it was at least somewhat empty.

"Owen why'd you book our flights so damn early?" I asked my boyfriend who was walking to my left.

"I didn't book them. Charlie did" He stated my gaze moving to the boy on my right.

"I should have known. No one but a psychopath would book a flight at the ass crack of dawn" I spoke earning a laugh from both boys.

"To be fair I thought you were a morning person y/n/n"

"Oh I am. When it's 8:00 o'clock and past that. I do not enjoy having to wake up at 4:00 o'clock in the morning to get ready. I mean seriously Charles it's still fucking dark out" I pointed out.

"Oh man. Alright I'll take that into consideration"

"Be lucky you didn't have to deal with her when the first alarm rang" Owen said making me glare at him.

"I love you baby. You know that but you just get so grumpy" He spoke making me roll my eyes.

"Did you just compare me to one of the seven dwarves? Fine. Alright. I get a little grumpy. But that's only because I have to be the big spoon too"

"Oh my god man your the little spoon" Charlie laughed as we arrived to security.

"You swore you wouldn't tell anybody" Owen whisper shouted.

"Yeah well that's just me being grumpy. Sorry babe"

"No it's cool. It's cool. Just wait until tonight" He whispered the last part in my ear before letting me go ahead.

"Seriously Charlie a knife? You tried to bring a knife on a plane?!" I asked exasperatedly as we boarded the plane.

"I didn't know they wouldn't let me bring it"

"I think it's a given that they wouldn't let you bring it dude"

"Yeah yeah"

"Well paybacks a bitch huh Charlie?" I joked handing Owen my carry on so he could put it above our seats.

"Haha y/n. I'd like you to remember that your stuck on this flight with me for the next few hours so I'd be a little nicer"

"I just can't wait to tell Jer about this" I said taking my seat next to the window. Owen taking the one to my right.

"Owennn your girlfriends being mean" Charlie complained earning a laugh from the blonde.

"I'm sorry Charlie but I can't do anything. The more she's mean to you the less she's mean to me" Owen said making me giggle.

"He's not wrong" I grinned intertwining our fingers and placing a quick kiss to Owen's cheek.

"That's all I get" He questioned making me playfully roll my eyes before pulling him in for a sweet kiss on the lips.

"Better?" I asked pulling away.

"Much" He smiled widely.

"You guys better not do that the whole plane ride"

"We won't. Gotta save something for tonight man" Owen joked. My elbow instinctively shoving itself into his arm as Charlie began to laugh.

"Ouch"

"Funny how you think your getting some tonight" I muttered.

"Am I not?"

"We'll see" I responded putting in my AirPods as the two boys began to conversate.

"Do you see your bag?" I questioned my boyfriend. We'd been stuck at baggage claim for ages trying to find Owens green suitcase.

"Nope"

"Owen" I groaned.

"There! There it is!" He shouted excitedly.

"Oh yes!" Charlie cheered as the bag reached our area.

"Let's get out of here"

"And just like that I hate airports" I said as we walked past random strangers.

"Y/n!" I heard a familiar voice shout. My eyes quickly spotting the source.

"Tori!" I screamed letting go of my boyfriends hand and running towards the girl who had her arms wide open.

I giggled engulfing her into a tight hug before turning to the rest of the group behind her.

"Kenny!" Owen and Charlie greeted their director.

"It's good to see you guys too" Jeremy spoke up.

"Care!"

"Y/n I'm so glad your here"

"I'm glad to be here. It's always good to see you too Jer" I spoke hugging him after I hugged Carolynn.

"Finally someone who appreciates me" He said making me throw my head back in laughter.

"To the hotel!"

"So what took you guys so long?" Jeremy asked as the 7 of us lounged around the pool.

"Yeah we were at terminal like 40 minutes after your flight landed.

"It's a long story"

"Speaking of stories" I smirked looking at Charlie.

"Don't" He warned pointing a finger at me.

"I didn't say anything" I giggled, back stroking away from the group.

"So me and Care we're thinking of doing some shopping tomorrow you in?" Tori questioned swimming with me.

"One hundred percent" I said glancing at Owen who was laid back on one of the lounge chairs near the pools edge. He looked so good with his swim trunks and his damp hair.

"So then we decided we'd just save it for Saturday before Care left" Toris voice brought me back to reality.

"I'm sorry what?" I asked.

"Did you hear anything I said?"

"I did not" I muttered.

"And why is that?" She asked teasingly poking my side.

"Because my boyfriend is sitting a few feet away and he looks like that" I internally groaned.

"I say you go get him" She grinned at me.

"Not yet" I mischievously smiled swimming back towards the group.

"It's so cold" I stated getting out the pool and grabbing my beach towel. Wrapping it around me.

"Aww come here" Owen said opening his arms widely.

I simpered making my way over to him and laying down in his embrace.

His arms immediately wrapping themselves around my soaked body. His bare chest coming into contact with my partially covered one.

"You guys are too cute" Tori teased.

"Not cuter than us though right?" Carolynn joked hugging Tori.

"No. Never" She responded making us all laugh.

"I'd like to propose a toast" Kenny spoke holding up his drink.

"To friends"

"To family" Charlie followed.

"To love" Owen said making heart skip a beat as he lifted his drink in the air.

"Cheers" They spoke in unison lifting their drinks to their lips. Owens beautiful green eyes never leaving mine.

"I love you"

"I love you too Owen" I whispered placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Why don't we head back to the hotel for some real fun?" He suggested quietly making sure no one heard.

His hand running up and down my arm soothingly.

"Hmm is that your attempt to get me into bed?"

"Why? Is it working?" He asked making me smirk.

"So we're doing dinner tomorrow night right guys?" I asked sitting up straddling the boy beneath me. Rejoining the conversation our friends were having.

"Yeah. Kenny was telling us about this great place his friend recommended" Jeremy explained as I shifted a bit to get comfortable.

A pair of hands landing on hips.

"Oh really? Tell me more about his place Kenny" I said moving again hearing a small groan escape Owens lips as our thin clothed fronts rubbed against each others.

A wicked smirk forming on my face as we listened in on Kennys description of the place.

"It sounds fantastic. Doesn't it sound fantastic Owen?" I questioned my boyfriend shuffling again.

"Yeah. Yup sounds great. Listen it getting late guys. I think we're gonna head back to the hotel" He voiced sitting up as well.

"It's only 6:30 dude"

"Yeah but we just wanna have time to shower and get dinner. You know together. As a couple"

"Right.....well have fun you two" Kenny said awkwardly as I stood up along with Owen.

"Oh I'm pretty sure they will" Charlie joked causing me to snicker at the boy.

I quickly collected the remaining of my pool things saying my fair well goodbyes to our friends. Or tried.

Owen was clearly in a rush to get to the hotel.

"Don't leave me" Tori said hugging me one more time before we left.

"Sorry to break it to you but she's gotta go" Owen said removing the girls arms from my body and pulling me away.

"Bye!!" I waved to the group who were all cackling at Owens behavior.

"You didn't have to be so pushy" I muttered as we walked into the hotel lobby.

"Pushy? Please you knew what you were doing" He whisper yelled dragging me along the hallways towards the elevator.

"And what was I doing?" I asked stepping in immediately feeling my back pressed against the cold wall.

"You tell me" He whispered inching his face towards mine. I watched as he pushed the button to our floor before looking back at me.

I took initiative crashing our lips together. Feeling his hand land firmly on my waist as the elevator came to a halt signifying we were on our floor.

"Come on" I spoke rather harshly dragging him towards our room.

"Who's being pushy now?"

"Owen I swear to god if you say another word I will lock you outside and make myself cum got it?"

"Yes mam" He said taking my bag while I unlocked the door with my key card.

Immediately upon opening the door I felt the back of my bikini come undone the top falling to the ground.

Turning around I saw the childlike smirk on my boyfriends face as he shut the door behind us. Making sure to lock it.

I smirked back with the same look on my face. Biting my lip in anticipation as Owen moved forward wrapping his arms around my body.

"Your so-" I didn't let him finish as I crashed my lips onto his wanting to feel him closer.

He was quick to respond deepening the kiss as he back me up onto the queen sized bed in the middle of the suite.

"I can't even get a word out geez" He joked pulling away.

"I'm sorry baby what were you gonna say?" I teased as his body hovered over mine. My body prepped up on my elbows to get a better view of his face.

"I was gonna say your so needy"

"I'm the needy one? Really?"

"Well it's obviously not me"

"Care to test that theory?" I suggested watching his face scrunch up in confusion.

I pecked his lips one more time before using all my strength to flip us over so he was on his back. I moved my body over his so I was straddling him now. A grin appearing on my face.

"I'm gonna make you feel so good right now. I just need you to do what I say. Got it?" I whispered watching him nod his head rapidly, clearly intrigued at my proposal.

I leaned down kissing him passionately his hands finding my waist with ease. Slowly grinding down onto him earning a moan from the blonde. I bit his lip as we roughly fought for dominance.

Owen letting me win as soon as I began to palm him through his swim trunks.  I pulled away moving down slowly until I was in front of him on my knees.

"Oh fuck baby. You look so fucking beautiful" He bit his lip taking a hold of my hair.

"No. You can't touch me. That's the only rule" I stated pushing his hand away.

"I can't? Why not?"

"Because I said so. Now are you gonna let me handle your little problem here or not?" I teased him, rubbing my hand against the fabric of his shorts.

"Fuck okay baby. Just- just do something" He pleaded. I smirked knowing I had it in the bag now.

"Take them off" I demanded. Sitting back as he removed his shorts along with his boxers letting his dick spring free.

I took the shaft pumping it a few times. Teasing the tip, even swirling my tongue around it earning a loud groan from Owen himself.

I slowly started pumping his length before placing my mouth on it. Beginning to bob my head up and down, feeling Owen thrust his body upward in attempt to get more of himself inside my mouth. His fist balling up and clenching the bedsheets tightly.

I hummed in response as moans escaped the boys mouth while I sucked him off. Eyeing him closely through my eyelashes seeing his head tilted back and his eyes were screwed shut made me even more excited for what was coming.

"I'm so close y/n" As soon as he said that I pulled away from him with a pop watching as his eyes shot open.

"W-what the hell?" He asked clearly confused.

"I'm just tired. Think it's time for bed no?" I questioned going to pick up my bikini top.

"No- No what the fuck babe" He spoke from behind me.

"Well I just th-" My words were cut off by a yelp as I was tossed back onto the bed.

"We're not done here" He spoke lunging on top of me quickly pressing his lips onto mine.

I sighed contently wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer as we made out.

"Who's the needy one now?" I whispered pulling away earning a scowl from him as he undid the strings of my bikini bottoms.

I shivered as I felt his tip align itself at my entrance. He didn't hesitate to push himself into me immediately filling me up. Something he'd never failed to do before.

I moaned as he began to move at a rather hasty pace. Not that I was complaining.

I pulled him back down making our lips meet once more while the noise of our bodies colliding echoed through the room.

"Faster" I mumbled into his mouth.

A familiar feeling pulling at the pit of my stomach. My orgasm becoming very close as Owen picked up speed. My legs wrapped around him as we struggled to stay in place.

"Owen" I moaned out as I came all over him. His orgasm hitting seconds later.

"Shit" He panted as he pulled out of me. Our liquids spilling out onto the comforter.

"Your calling for new sheets" I stated trying to regain my breath.

"That was so worth it baby" He spoke pecking my lips before getting off of me to go to the bathroom.

I smiled as he walked out with a towel, coming over to clean me up.

"I love Hawaii" He said making me giggle.

"Do you now? I wonder why?" I joked sitting up. Coming face to face with my boyfriend.

"But I love you more"

"Say more things like that and we'll be in bed the whole week" I spoke wrapping my arms around his neck. Giggling as he pushed me back onto the bed once more.

————

Up Next: Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Alex Mercer x Male Reader

Luke Patterson x Reader

Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Jeremy Shada x Reader

Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Reggie Peters x Reader

Charlie Gillespie x Owen Patrick Joyner x Reader

Charlie Gillespie x Reader

Carrie Wilson x Reader

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@lolychu @headheartbellarke @bookish0918 @kcd15 @ifilwtmfc @moviesbooksandfandoms @lovesanimals @lavender-writer @kaitieskidmore1 @morganayennefertyrell @iloveteenwolf @ghostofmgg @jammi13 @theravenclawlife

[uhhhhhhhhhsblogyea]

This is a surprise!

cw, attack, killing, slight demspey x richtofen, and religion, theres a good bit of that in there

[i wrote this awhile ago so theres not much of shipping material in this i was just like oh yeah this sounds cool]

[ 1 ] chapter 1 ; bump in the road 

Demspey hums a song to himself, something he heard while going through the teleporter awhile back. He wasn't sure what the name was or the lyrics, it was just a catchy tune. If he had to guess, it came from the future. The sounds in it were definitely not from the 1930's.

Rictofen laughs and looks at Dempsey, "Dempsey, what does LMG stand for?" Dempsey smirks at this, turning to look at the doctor. He knew what to say, thanks to training the recruits. Maybe he could punch Richtofen for being stupid, just like he did to the recruits. 

While Dempsey gives a minute of silence while looking over at the German, who takes out the summoning key, counting over his items before summoning the rift to their next place. “You sure you want to know?” He chuckles. 

“Why of course! Why, I wouldn’t of asked if I knew already.” Richtofen hums, confused by the American’s laughter.

"If you say so. It stands for Lick My Gibblets." Dempsey struggles to hold back his smile, knowing his foreign teammate wouldn't really understand what he meant - not to mention he’d look stupid for not knowing what it really meant. What a funny thing. 

While the two were conversing, Nikolai and Takeo had stepped into the rift, Dempsey following suit before Richtofen grabs him, "I am certain you were lying. What does it really mean?" He demands.  

Dempsey grunts, pulling Richtofen off him while saying. "Let me go, dumbass!" Dempsey sighs, walking through the portal between worlds.

Richtofen failed to specify where exactly, but, at this point the American wasn't surprised though he wasn't any less annoyed. 

"I wasn't aware it was LMGD..." The German ponders before following the bunch with a chuckle.

Tank steps out of the rift, meeting the other two, but it takes him to realize he stepped out into something he didn't expect. "What the fuck?" Dempsey is surprised, not prepared for the foot of snow on the ground. Pine trees of many kinds surround the area, being in a secluded area. Everything is covered in snow, pretty much abandoned. 

"Oh my, this is quite the surprise." Richtofen speaks up, making his presence known as the blue rift crackles and closes. 

"I wasn't prepared for this myself." Nikolai speaks up now, giving a slight shrug. "German," he addresses, "with the time traveling I'm sure you'd know where we are." He doesn't believe the legitimacy of Richtofen's surprise, Dempsey can understand why. 

Takeo chooses not to speak, fixing his pants to go over his boots so no snow falls inside of them while Dempsey watches the Russian and German grow tension.

Takeo stands upright. "Let us talk with honor." He looks at the both of them and nods.

Richtofen looks at Takeo, sighing before nodding. "If we came here there is something we need, so let's go look for it. We'll have to hurry up and find a spot to 'bunker down' before the next wave arises." The German man had done air quotes before pointing a lanky arm towards the large gothic church a-ways ahead of them.

The front of the quite beautiful church is a triangular shaped building, much like a house or meeting hall that extends into a tower that looks very much similar to a clock tower with a bell, considering there's a clock on the front.

 There's other rooms on the side of it but a lot of wires and metal rods are sticking out on the top of the tower. There's designs in the stone, stained glass of religious figures. Such a shame the full beauty was lost when the glass is cracked and broken in areas, boards nailed over any thought of entrance. 

Something's off about it though.

As they trudge through the snow, Dempsey notices the metal rods. He looks to his left to see Nikolai, the man who seems unbothered by this cold.  "Hey Nik, maybe Richtofen's right about something being here. As much as I hate to give him the benefit of a doubt, the wires and rods on the clocktower gives me the idea something's here." 

Dempsey raises his hand and points at the clock tower briefly, giving Nikolai enough time to glance it over. The Russian man follows Dempsey's hand, taking a second before seeing the same. "Perhaps, American. You do have a point." 

[ 2 ] chapter 2 ; welcome to hell, american

There's a blue beam of light, signifying the existence of the mystery box inside the church. Demspey hums, quite happy about that at least. Hopefully Samantha was nice enough to spawn some hidden ammo stashes for when they ran out or get low – he was quite notorious for being trigger happy and running out of ammo quickly. 

Hey, at least he took care of his gun when he had the time to.

They continued to make their way through the snow, had it only being less than ten minutes of arrival. Dempsey noticed that Takeo and Richtofen were colder due to not having jackets or long sleeves like he and Nikolai had. Richtofen seemed extremely cold although, compared to the headstrong Japanese man who refused to admit he was cold. Tank sighed heavily, taking off his jacket and holding it out to Richtofen. 

"Dempsey? Why are you giving me your jacket? You're-" Dempsey held up his hand, making Richtofen take it. "Doc, you're shivering more than any of us. You're also the one we have to follow here, I don't want to hear you whine about wanting some soup and your nose being stuffy." The American rolls his eyes, forcing a shiver from surfacing. 

Richtofen thanked him and put on the marine's coat. It was warm from his body heat, and quite soft on the inside. Dempsey wasn't going to lie, Richtofen looked quite cute in his coat. 

"Oh focus Tank!" He shakes his head, yelling at himself in his mind. Dempsey powered through the cold the best he could, not wanting to really show how cold he did feel in just a t-shirt. His pride wouldn't let him.

Eventually they reached the entrance, wooden planks nailed over the two doors to the church. Nikolai takes his hammer from his belt and starts to pry the nails out of the boards. Dempsey helps without speaking, pulling the bloodied planks off and stack them aside. It was kind of nice how they silently agreed for once.

Unfortunately for them, it took a good bit to clear the entrance to the church which means they had to sit in the snow and cold wind longer than they wished. Things were placed behind the doors, benches and heavy boxes filled with bibles and books, being barricaded from the inside. They moved into the hallway after forcing those things aside, Takeo giving a shiver. 

"I expected it to be... warmer." His nose wrinkles as he breathes in the stale air, looking to the side to one of his friends. Dempsey had to agree, but he took a step forward, walking down the carpeted hallway to double doors that were once barricaded. Emphasis on once. 

The items that blocked the doors were knocked and spread all over, blood that seemed old and semi-recent splattered on the ground and walls. He hummed, why was there new blood? To be honest he never saw any zombies openly bleeding and spilling their guts out randomly unless they were shot or killed. 

This was the room people would come to pray and listen to someone speak about religion, sitting on the wooden benches. 

Dempsey suspects that someone or something is here, and he's not sure what. Maybe he's not as dumb as the others say he is.

At this point, Dempsey couldn't give a damn about how Christian churches worked after contemplating it. He just wanted out. 

"Scan over this area, I'm gonna take upstairs." He says to the three who had gone and caught up with him, to which the others nod. He goes to walk towards the stairs, placing his hand on the metal railing. He halts at the third step to turn back to the group. "Richtofen." He calls. 

The German seems a bit startled at first, "Yes, Dempsey?" He strides over to Demspey on the stairs. "How about you come with me, we'll do two and two. That way none of us die for good." Demspey offers, though it sounds more like a command. 

Richtofen hums, tapping a finger on his chin before saying. "Fine Dempsey! Let's go take a look around, shall we?" Demspey nods, heading up the stairs with Richtofen behind him.

"Take that room, I'll be over here." He points to a random room on the left, it looks like a storage room. Dempsey walks down the hall a bit, getting a gut feeling to draw his pistol so he does. He pushes the door open to a room with furniture, sheets placed on top of them. 

"Right out of the horror films," He laughs a bit. He walks around the room, looking for crates, chests, anything that looks like it would stash ammo. 

There's soft footsteps behind him as he's rummaging through a box. He notices them as they stop, getting up and turning around to see who he thought was Richtofen. "Did you f-" 

Dempsey couldn't finish the sentence before getting attacked by an old woman, but she wasn't a zombie. He falls to the ground, his pistol clattering against the wooden floor. "Get off of-" Something sharp sinks into his shoulder near his neck. Her fucking teeth. 

He starts to reach for his pistol while fighting against her grip, eventually grabbing ahold of the gun and shooting the lady in the head. God, he hoped she wasn't someone important.

He begins to sit up, her blood spilled all over his shirt. He grunts, throwing her body off. Richtofen comes running in, "Dempsey! What happened?" He looks at him, getting up. 

"I'm fine Doc, I killed it. She must've just got affected by the 115, that's all." He reassures him. 

"Why don't you help me look around in here? Take these sheets and use them for bedding, might be good." Dempsey causally changes topics, stepping over the corpse and taking an already dirtied sheet to clean the blood off himself. 

Now that he thinks about it, he feels a little weird. There’s tingling around where she had bit him. Dempsey knows that isn’t a good sign, especially in his book. 

______

sorry if its super long, im on mobile !!

[exhaustedfander]

You Don’t Want This [Intrulogical]

This idea wouldn’t leave me alone until I put it to paper so here we are. This includes mpreg, just as a warning if that’s not your thing. Requests are open so please, send me some! I’d probably be willing to do any ship besides r*mr*m. As always, likes and reblogs are really appreciated, enjoy and have a good day/night! 

word count: 3,106

a03 link

Logan hadn’t seen his boyfriend in a week now and that was decidedly very odd. Prior to now, they’d spent nearly every day together. At the very least, Remus would call him or send him a couple of dirty texts. But no contact at all? It just didn’t make any sense.

It wasn’t as though Logan hadn’t reached out. In fact, right before Remus had all but completely cut off contact he’d fallen ill. Remus claimed that it was nothing more than a stomach bug, probably some bad fish he ate. Normally, Logan wouldn’t doubt him; Remus was never one to forgo the truth, no matter how grotesque or messy it might be. But this…this didn’t feel quite right.

They’d been together for almost a year-in-a-half now, for god’s sake, they’d been talking about moving in together and now Remus wasn’t talking to him. He was dodging his call for the most part and the few times that Logan was granted the privilege of a conversation, Remus had come up with some very half-baked excuses as to why they couldn’t see each other.

Logan had asked if he’d done something to upset him. He put everything he had into his relationship, but he had never been the best at understand other’s emotions, as well as his own, so the idea that he had done something to unintentionally hurt Remus’s feelings wasn’t too out-there. Remus had sworn that it was nothing and that Logan didn’t need to worry, which only deepened Logan’s concerns. Still, Remus was upset and not knowing what he could do to fix it, he decided giving him some space might be the best course of actions. How it had gotten to an entire week of this almost radio-silence, Logan wasn’t sure, and he was damn near about to call Remus and demand some kind of an explanation when his phone began to chime.

Logan noted that it was Remus’s twin brother Roman calling. He and Roman had actually known each other for far longer than he’d been with Remus, having been friends for a long time now.

“Hello, Roman,” Logan said after pressing ‘talk’, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“When was the last time you talked to Remus?” The question came out of absolutely nowhere, effectively throwing him for a loop.

“Uh – just a few days ago. But I suppose we haven’t seen each other in a week now.”

“You suppose?” There’s an anger in Roman’s tone, fiery and frantic.

“What exactly is going on here? Clearly you know something I don’t.” Roman scoffed.

“Yeah, clearly.” Logan huffed out a sigh, his concern only escalating from where it had been. “Logan, you need to talk to my brother. Now.” In all honesty, Logan was surprised that Remus and Roman were even on speaking terms. They’d never gotten along very well in all the time that he’d known them and now apparently Roman posed vital information about his boyfriend that he lacked.

“I don’t understand. Why won’t you explain to me what the situation is? What did Remus tell you? Is he alright?” Roman sighed.

“I can’t be the one to tell you, Lo. And I know he’s gonna be too scared to tell you if you call him. Please, go see him. He’s in a really fucked up mental state and he needs you, even if he’s too afraid to admit it.”

Logan felt his heart beginning to hammer in his chest. Remus was in a, as Roman explained it, a “fucked up” mental state and he was afraid to explain the reason to him. The very thought of such things and all the many possibilities of what it could mean swirled in his head.

“Roman – please, just explain it minimally. You’re, you’re elevating my concerns. Is Remus unsafe? Is he injured or ill?” “Please, go talk to him, Lo. We can talk about everything once you guys have had a conversation, but I need that to happen first.”

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Logan muttered through gritted teeth, “Goodbye, Roman.” Before his friend could even respond he’d ended the call. Logan buried his face in his hands, fear settling deep into his bones. He’d felt like something was off, but he’d dismissed it. Why had he been so foolish? Why hadn’t he applied any logic? Of course something was wrong! Something had felt amiss for the entire week and yet Logan hadn’t wanted to upset Remus. Now, it seemed, he needed to go see him. He needed to know what the hell was going on.

Logan drove faster than was considered legal on his way to Remus’s apartment, something under almost any circumstance he wouldn’t do. But his anxieties were gaining in momentum and they wouldn’t let up until he saw his boyfriend.

Hopping out of the car, he pulled the key from his back pocket in case Remus refused to answer his knocking and approached the door. Logan gave a knock, feeling his hands beginning to shake.

“Remus, it’s Logan. Please, open the door.” Logan was met with silence.

“Dear, I saw your car in its spot; I know you’re there. Let me in, please.” Nothing.

“Roman just called me. He sounded…incredibly concerned for your well-being and I’m worried too. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m here…” Logan was just about to use the key when the door swung open, revealing a disheveled Remus.

“Rem –.”

“Remind me to kick my brother’s ass for calling you,” he snarled, though he stood aside so that Logan could enter, “It was none of his goddamn business.” Logan came inside hastily, noting that it was in even more of a disarray than usual. The coffee table and counter were littered with dishes and there were crumbled pieces of paper all over the place. Remus would often get like this when inspiration struck him like a bolt of lightning and he needed to write every idea that came to mind. Seeing the state his boyfriend was in, however, Logan highly doubted that was the reason.

“Remus, I know you’ve been avoiding me. I wanted to give you space, assuming I’d done something to upset you, perhaps. But getting that call from Roman…” Logan trailed off, seeing the look of utter exhaustion on Remus’s face. Remus’s hair was ruffled, sticking up this way and that, and his makeup was smudged, mascara and eye shadow having left a purple and black trail down his cheeks. Logan reached out to touch Remus’s face, only to have him jerk back and slam the door shut, “you’ve been crying…”

“Yeah, no shit,” Remus huffed bitterly, walking over the sofa and flopping down. Logan noted that his boyfriend looked even paler than usual, something that deeply worried him. He sat down beside Remus, giving him enough distance to hopefully feel at least a little comfortable. Remus crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes cast downward.

Silence hung between them for a tense moment as Logan watched Remus try not to burst into a fit of tears. It was agonizing.

“Remus, whatever is going on, you can talk to me. I love you. You know that, don’t you?” Remus sighed, running a hand through his frazzled hair.

���That’s the thing though, isn’t it? Love’s conditional.” Logan knitted his eyebrows together.

“What? I don’t understand, why would you say something like that? Remus, what happened?” Remus shook his head, taking a trembling breath before meeting Logan’s expectant gaze.

“Oh, it’s nothing really.” “Clearly, that isn’t the case. Something’s the matter; I’ve never seen you look so upset.”

“Well, I’m pregnant, so that’s something, I guess.” Logan felt like the air had been punched out of his lungs. He looked at Remus, searching for some kind of falsehood, a practical joke of some kind. All he found was broken, terrified sincerity.

“W–what?”

“Pretty fucking wild, huh? We were using protection and all that shit – and yet here we are!” Logan felt his heart beating out of his chest, his mind going a mile-a-minute. He went silent, needing a moment to process before continuing.

“Remus why…why would you hide this from me? When did you find out?” “Week ago,” Remus said casually, or at least as casually as one can muster when they’re very near to tears, “I talked to Roman about it, by the way. So you don’t even need to worry. He said he’d help me out, honestly, it’s really sweet of him. I didn’t expect it of him, but what do ya know? People surprise you sometimes.” Logan blinked, feeling himself beginning to tremble as he reached out for Remus’s hand. His boyfriend pulled away.

“I don’t need to worry? Are-are you under the impression that I’m not going to help you? This all comes as quite a surprise but – Remus? Remus, dear, look at me? Won’t you look at me?” Remus shook his head, tears burning in his eyes once more.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t fucking do that, Logan. You don’t want any part of this, trust me, I can handle myself.” Logan finally acquired a grip on Remus’s hand, holding it tight. His boyfriend’s wide, tear-filled eyes met his.

“Remus, you should have told me the moment you found out. The fact that you’ve had to deal with this almost all on your own for a week now…darling, I would have never wished that upon you. You don’t have to ‘handle yourself.’” Remus sniffled as Logan rubbed the pad of his thumb along his knuckles.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about…don’t say all that, I-I know you don’t mean it. You’re not going to want anything to do with me after this.” “Who says I won’t?” Remus shuddered.

“I do! I – I don’t want to trap you in something you don’t want any part of! You’ve got a life to lead, so go fucking do it! Go and find somebody else, I’ll be fine. Always am.” Logan shook his hand firmly, feeling the emotions burning through him.

“No. Remus, don’t say that. I cannot fathom what you’re going through mentally at this time, but I can assure you, I’m not going anywhere. I’ve been terribly worried and when Roman called…well, I feared for the worst. Darling, I love you. I could never leave you, especially in the vulnerable state that you’re in.” Remus sniffed, jerking away from Logan’s grasp and burying his face in his hands.

“Stop saying that! S-stop it, I know it’s not gonna be true anymore. Please, just stop it…” A sob bubbled in Remus’s throat as he felt a hand settle onto his shoulder.

“Falsehood," Logan replied, far softer than he usually said the word, "I do love you, and this by no means changes that. Whatever course of action you want to take, I will continue to love you. You are my partner, you are the person who has stolen my heart, and I support you in anything.” Remus went silent, save for the sniffles, poking his head out from his hands and daring to make eye-contact.

“Even…even if I wanted to keep it?” Logan nodded, rubbing steady circles into Remus’s back.

“If that’s what you want then, yes. Even then. Is that what you want, Remus?” Remus whimpered.

“I…yeah. Yeah, I think so. Do you think I’m crazy? Me, thinking I could do anything like that? Even though it was a complete accident?”

"Of course I don’t think you’re crazy. As I said, whatever you want to do, I will put my support in you. I’m here, Remus, and I’m not going anywhere.” Remus sniffled, a hopeful smile wavering on his face.

“Do you promise? You’re not – you’re not gonna change your mind?” Logan pressed a kiss to Remus’s temple, reassuring and tender.

“I promise.” Logan suddenly found himself with a lap-full of Remus who was hugging him as tight as humanly possible and sobbing into his shoulder.

“Okay good b-because I was totally lying. I don’t have anything under control. Logan, I’m fucking terrified.” Logan couldn’t say he was much less scared. He’d never imagined himself being a father, never considered the possibility of having something like that with Remus. And terrifying though it was, the idea of Remus no longer being in his life was far scarier.

“It’s alright. Fear is a perfectly natural reaction. It’s going to be alright.” Logan felt Remus beginning to relax in his embrace, burying his face in the crock of his neck.

“I’m sorry…I just thought…” Remus trailed off, noting how he was getting tears and smudges of makeup on Logan’s shirt, though he lacked the energy to care, “I love you. I love you so goddamn much and I can’t believe you wanna stick around. I mean, you know I’m being serious, right? I wanna keep them…I know it’s nuts, and I’m just about the last person who should be having a baby but…”

“I believe you, Remus. I don’t think it’s nuts. We’re two perfectly rational, functional adults.” Remus snorted.

“Yeah, maybe you are.” “You don’t give yourself enough credit, darling. You’re a fantastic author. You’re a wonderful person.”

“You’re one of the only people who’d say that, babe. Me and “wonderful person” aren’t really words that go together.” Logan pressed a kiss to the crown of Remus’s head.

“You’re wonderful in your own ways, my dear. And I’m sure you’ll be a wonderful father.” Remus moved to look at Logan, an elated look in his eyes.

“We’re gonna have a baby,” Remus said before kissing Logan enthusiastically. It was a scary statement to contemplate, but one that excited Logan nonetheless.

“That we are,” Logan said fondly as they pulled away, “That we are.”

=+=

Logan rubbed Remus’s back as he heaved his guts out for the millionth time that night.

“It’s called fucking morning sickness,” Remus moaned into the toilet bowl, “Does it look like morning to you? It’s 10 o’clock, for god’s sake.”

“I’m sorry, Remus,” Logan said apologetically.

“That was my big tip off,” Remus said weakly, “The moment I got you to leave I was puking all the time. I figured either I was dying, or I was pregnant, and well, luckily it was the later. Though at this rate I might die from loss of vomit or something.” Logan decided against commenting on the fact that “loss of vomit” was not a cause of death, opting instead for getting a washcloth to wipe Remus’s mouth as well as a glass of water.

“Thanks,” Remus mumbled, dabbing the puke of his lips before downing the glass in two swallows. “I feel like shit.”

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Logan coaxed gently, helping Remus off the floor and into his bedroom. Logan’s very much set on having Remus move into his apartment as soon as possible, but for tonight this is where they’ll both stay.

“I really am sorry for how I acted,” Remus said uncharacteristically softly as Logan shut off the lights and slid into bed with him, “I was just so scared…ha, was. I’m still so scared, but you’re here. I can’t believe you’re here.”

“You don’t need to apologize, dear. You’re under an incredible amount of physical and emotional stress, your reaction, though unfounded, was understandable. I’m not upset with you, if that’s what you think.” Remus sighed, wrapping his arms around Logan and pressing his face into his boyfriend’s chest.

“That’s good…LoLo? Do you really think we can do this?” There was a fragility to Remus's voice unlike Logan's ever heard. “And – and you’re not going to get scared away? When things progress, I mean. We’re only in month two or so, I think?” Logan searched for Remus’s hand in the dark, finding it and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You could never scare me away. I scheduled a doctor’s appointment for tomorrow, by the way. To check in on the baby.” Remus smiled, further ensnaring Logan in his octopus-like-grip.

“You’re the fucking best – shit, I probably got to stop cursing so much huh? Well…that’s a problem for a little bit later. Little bean’s too tiny to hear any swear words right now, anyhow.” Logan quirked an eyebrow.

“Little bean?” “Uh...yeah. That’s what I’ve been calling them, for the time being. I dunno I thought it was –.”

“It’s very cute. I’m not making fun of you.”

“Kinda sounded like you were about to,” Remus huffed.

“Well, I wasn’t. Go to sleep, Remus. You sound exhausted.”

“I’m still mad at Roman for telling you.” Logan sighed, carding a hand through Remus’s ruffled curls.

“I’m glad he told me, otherwise I wouldn’t have come here sooner. I wouldn’t have found out that we’re going to have a child.” Remus smiled.

“We are. Knowing you, we’re gonna have the smartest fucking kid. The two of you are probably going to make me feel like such an idiot.” “Don’t talk like that. You’re nothing of the sort. Our little bean,” Logan noted the way Remus squeezed him just a bit tighter when he said it, “Will be a wonderful combination of the both of us, I’m sure.”

“You have to promise me that you’ll help me find maternity clothes for when I look like a beached whale. Only fun colors though, none of those beiges or greys.” Logan smiled fondly.

“I promise, dear.”

“And when we tell our friends, you’ll have to do it. hearing it from me they’re just going to think I’m trying to pull a practical joke.” Logan chuckled.

“Of course.”

“I love you, Logan,” Remus said, voice layered with exhaustion.

“And I love you, Remus,” Logan said, listening to Remus’s breath even out as he drifted off to sleep.

Logan certainly hadn’t expected any of what played out to occur, but now that this was the situation he was in, he doubted he’d do much to change it. He loved Remus more than anything and though the thought of the two of them being a family hadn’t occurred to him much prior, it brought him joy to contemplate now. It was a scary concept, them being parents, but he was convinced they could do it. So many people even more ill-equipped had children every day, why should they be any different?

When Logan had called Roman after his and Remus’s conversation, he’d received a congratulation from his friend. Roman had known that Logan was going to stick by his brother, despite what Remus had been convinced of at the time.

Logan closed his eyes, holding Remus close and dreaming of the future they could make together.

=+=

[elysiashelby]

In Another World - T. Shelby Imagine Ch. 6

Paring: (Eventual) Thomas Shelby x Aliena Welsh (OC)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 5,428

WARNINGS: Cursing, Self-Harm, Self-Deprecation 

Summary: Aliena Welsh has been living in the universe of the show Peaky Blinders for a year, and the time has come for the show to start. But how will this affect her and Thomas’ relationship?

MASTERLIST  CHAPTER 5.3  CHAPTER 7

A/N: THE SCENE IS SEPARATED BY THE BLACK LINE BREAKS! LOOK FOR THE SECOND ONE IF YOU DON’T WANT TO READ THE SCENE! 

To be completely honest, I’m basing Aliena’s personality and actions off of myself, so since I have depression that means she does too. I have self-harmed in a stressful situation, so to me- it makes since that she would do it too as the tension are rising and she has to deal with the guilt of letting bad things happen to the people that are close to her. It’s especially harder since the one she cares for the most knows she’s allowing stuff to happen to him and his family. 

A week and a half has passed and today the boys are going to the fair. I got ready and rushed over to John’s flat. Polly had already told me that I wasn’t to make breakfast for the family because it was all of the boys going out this time. I knew Ada was with Freddie and I think all Polly knew was that she had been out. 

She told me that she was going to the church and I knew she would be meeting that bastard Campbell. Anyway, I let the kids have the day off. So, they were still asleep when I decided to ring Cassie. I still talk to her in an American accent, by the way.

“Why the hell are you calling me so early in the morning, Ali?”

“‘Cause I’m bored.”

“Bitch.”

“Slut. Now do you want the tea or not?” Yes, I taught Cassie 2010’s slang. I told her it would be like our own language. She loved the idea.

“Okay, lay it on me.”

“So, there’s a new barmaid in town. Tommy is completely smitten with her, or is gonna be. I can just tell.”

“No, shit! Fuck, what’re going to do?”

“What do you mean what am I going to do? Nothing! I can’t do anything. You know what he told me the other day!”

“That I’m a girl who isn’t family and you’re going to find a good man of your own.” We said simultaneously.  

“You’ve said that a million times, Ali.”

“Well, it fucking sucks that he doesn’t see me as a woman. A girl, he said, a girl! There’s nothing I can do, Cassie. I’m fucking stuck suffering.”

“And working. When are we gonna go out again?”

“Fuck if I know! I’m just really needed here, is all.”

“Stop pulling my leg. You’ve already used that excuse. “Oh but they need me!” “I need to take care of the kids!” “They’re really stressed, right now!” Shut up and admit that you don’t like not being around Thomas.” She laughed.

“Shut up! That’s not it. They really do need me. I just can’t tell you why.” 

She hummed. “Well, at least, you have your eyes set on someone. Mind that he doesn’t reciprocate it, but it must be nice to dote on someone.”

“Wow, thanks.” 

“What? In my opinion, it’s better than not having anybody to obsess about. It gets lonely over here, you know.”

We talked for hours. Eventually, the kids came down ‘n I had to feed them, but I just moved the telephone with me. Since I knew what was gonna happen today, I told them that they would be playing in the back and that’s it. 

“I’m sure. How is Angie and Tina?” I said.

“Still doing everything together. Seriously, this is why I need you to find a day off ‘cause I need some me and you time. I'm fucking stuck being a third wheel here.” 

“Sexual tension, still there?”

“Of-fucking-course!”

We both laughed. 

“But, ever since we talked about it. I noticed it more. Tina’s lingering glances at Angie and such. It’s just so sad.”

“Well, if she is a lesbian, hopefully, she’ll find someone.”

“Yeah, that would be the best outcome for her. The worst being, her family forcing her off in a loveless marriage. Hey, think she could like both?”

“Let’s hope.”

We both hummed sadly. 

Just then another voice cut in, “Excuse me, Miss, you’re getting another call?”

“Who from?” I asked.

“6 Watery Lane, Small Heath, Miss.”

“Put it through. Bye, Cassie!”

“Bye!”

“Hello?” 

“Aliena, come down here quick. Don’t bring the kids and tell ‘em to stay inside the house.” 

“Okay, Pol.” I hung up the phone and rushed upstairs. I knocked on Katie’s door and entered. 

She was busy rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. I said. “Katie, something’s happened and your Aunt Polly has called me back to the house. That means no more napping, you’ll have to look after your siblings. And you’ll have to make lunch and maybe dinner. Your Aunt Polly said no going outside today, so keep that door locked after I go. Understand?”

“Yes, Aliena.”

I stroked her cheek before kissing her forehead and leaving her room. I rushed to put on me coat, hat, ‘n scarf as I went out the door. I shouted goodbye to the kids and locked the door behind me and stuffed the key in me pocket. 

As I walked down the street, I noticed that there was furniture in the streets and people in their night clothes. Men didn’t greet me as I walked past, but I went up to a familiar face. 

“Mr. Johnson, can you tell me what’s happened?”

“Oh, Ms. Welsh! Those bloody new coppers came in and threw everything out. Told us that the Peaky Blinders gave them the okay. Is that true?”

I put on a troubled face. I made me voice small and trembling. “I… I don’t know, Mr. Johnson. I’m terribly sorry.”

He picked up a chair of his with his head hanging. “It’s all right, love. A word of advice, Ms. Welsh, be careful around them. Wouldn’t want the light of the Shelby family to darken.”

Me eyes widened as a blushed rushde to me face. “The light, Mr. Johnson?”

He chuckled while handing his items to his wife. “That’s your nickname ‘round here, Ms. Welsh. The little shiny light among those Peaky Blinder devils. A smile from you will cause any man in this city to behave.” 

I chuckled, looking down with a small smile on me face. “Well, thank you for telling me, Mr. Johnson. I’m sorry this happened to you.”

“We’ll be fine, dear. Go on about your business. I’m sure they have you running somewhere.” 

I gave him and his family one last smile before I continued me walk home. I got some pitiful stares and some glares, but I ignored ‘em. When I reached the house, I unlocked the door and walked in.   

As I was taking off me coat, I shouted. “Polly, I’m here!”

“We’re in here, love!” She shouted back.

I walked into the parlor where Lovelock and Scudboat were. 

“Go on.” Polly said. “Finish your report.”

“They’ve done in The Guns, The Chain, The Marquis. They didn’t touch the Garrison.” 

Polly scoffed a hand rubbing her bottom lip.

“They did John’s street, too. But they didn’t touch the place.” I added. Her eyes widened like saucers. 

“Jesus Christ. Well, the boys will be coming here soon. Scudboat, Lovelock, go and fetch a bucket of mild. Ali, come help me get the glasses.” 

It took them an hour to get here. Polly told them to have a seat, but only Arthur sat down. I looked over at Tommy who was already looking at me. I turned the left corner of me mouth up as a sort of smile. 

I pulled me sleeves up and started filling their cups. I passed it to Tommy, first, then Arthur. Scudboat and Lovelock already had their own. John stopped me saying that he’d get his own. I used a cloth to wipe the stuff off of me.

“The coppers told everyone Arthur had agreed to it when he was arrested. They said the Peaky Blinders had cleared out to the fair to let them do it.” Polly told them.

“I never said nothing to that copper about smashing up bloody houses!” Arthur said.

“All right!” Tommy said. “Which pubs did they do?”

“The Guns, The Chain, The Marquis. All the ones that pay you to protect them. The only one they didn't touch was The Garrison.” Polly answered. She lit her ciggie before talking again. “Made sure people think we were in on it. Smart, this copper. So go on. Drink your beers. Get out.”

All of them put down their beers and started making their way out, except Tommy.

“You better show people you'll still the cocks of the walk.” Polly called out after them.

Tommy walked ‘round to where I was as he ordered. “Hand out some cash to the landlords of the pubs. Pay some veterans to fix the places up.” 

Arthur barely putting on his coat asked. “So what about you, Tommy?”

“I've to go to Charlie's to stable the horse. She looked foot sore in the box.”

 Arthur was visibly upset by Tommy’s answer. 

“Let them see your faces.” Polly said before closing the doors to the betting shop. She turned ‘round and looked at me. “You can go now, Ali.” 

I nodded, looking over at Tommy who just nodded at me. I turned and went for the door. I was gonna go back to John’s ‘n cook them kids dinner. 

I was barely out the door when I heard the pounding of footsteps.

“Aliena!” Tommy shouted. “I have a plan. Tell me if it pays off or not.” 

“Alright.”

He nodded. “Gonna burn the King’s pictures. Will it-?”

“Yeah.” I interrupted him. I turned back ‘round. 

“See you, tonight, then?” He shouted. 

I waved him off. “Of course!” 

I walked to John’s flat with a little more pep in me step. 

I made their dinner, had some, tucked them into bed, and then made me way down to the fire. Loads of people were piling in. I walked over towards the boys. 

“What’s ‘appening, then, lads?” I shouted as I bumped into John forcefully.

They cheered for me, oddly enough. 

“Look, Finn and I have to go ‘n get more then I’ll be back, eh, Ali!” John said to me as he ran backwards. 

“Fine, hurry up then, la!” I chuckled as I turned me attention to Tommy ‘n Arthur. They were watching the fire. Arthur with a drink in his hand, not yet opened. Tommy nursing a ciggie.

“The only reason I’m not smacking that outta your hand is ‘cause this is a special occasion.” I teased with a smile on me face.

He scoffed. “Then, everyday must be a special occasion.” 

I tsked ‘n attempted to smack away his ciggie. He raised his hand up in the air with a smirk on his face. I gasped loudly and put a hurt look on me face. I attempted to smack it out of his hands, but it was too high for me to reach. 

“Oh c’mon, Finn could do better than that!” Tommy chuckled. 

“Oh, do one! You fucking cheater, you!” I knocked me body into him. 

John and Finn soon came back. Somehow, Tommy managed to get a picture of the King ‘n chucked into the fire. “Chuck them on, boys.” He ordered.

People cheered including Finn, and Tommy chucked another photograph in. 

Arthur spit his cork into the fire before saying. “Well, I hope to God you know what you're doing.”

I looked to me right ‘n saw John pass his pint over to Finn. 

“Oi!” I yelled. “Don’t you take a swing of that, Finn Shelby!” 

 He brought the bottle down from his lips. John laughing at him. 

“Oh, let him. It’s a fire.” John said. 

I looked to Tommy ‘n he nodded. I rolled me eyes and lightly kicked his shoe. He looked at me, pointedly, and I stuck me tongue out at him. 

The reporter came. So Arthur, Finn, John, and I all moved over. I watched as they talked. The fire gave me a logical reason for me blushing. 

‘He just looked so stoic and handsome. Take me breath away, I swear.’

John ‘n I made conversation, mainly abar the schooling progress of his kids. I told him and Arthur, very loudly might I add, abar how Finn was doing. He begged me to stop, but I only did after a little more teasing. 

When the reporter left, we all shuffled back to where Tommy was. We were talking for a while. I didn’t even notice when I was taking swings out of the boys’ bevvies. When I was talking to Tommy, John came over ‘n slung his arm over me shoulders.

“Oi, Aliena. Let’s have a song.” 

I laughed nervously. “You outta your bloody mind!” I pushed his head away from me face. 

I’m guessing Arthur heard ‘cause his head whipped ‘round. “Oh, come on! Sing a song, Songbird!”

I shook me head. “Nu uh!” 

“Oh, come on, Ali. Give us a song.” Tommy added in with a smug smirk.

Me jaw dropped in shock. I muttered. “You little traitor.” I cleared me throat. “Fine, you’re lucky I’ve been drinking! What am I singing? Happy, sad, love songs?”

I got shouts of “love songs” and “happy.” It wasn’t just the boys. I threw me head back trying to find a proper song to kick things off. I knew that none of them would know any of the songs I’ma gonna sing, but I’m too out of it to care. 

So, I picked “Saturday Night’s Alright (For Fighting)” by Elton John. People were really confused at first until the boys started cheering for me. Then, they started joining in too and a fight really did break out. I spun Finn ‘round ‘n ‘round since I wouldn’t be able to lead John in a dance. I sang “The Love Club” By Lorde and John did pull me away from Finn.

Next, I sang “Supaloney” by BENEE. I even did the dance. Look these were modern songs, but as long as Tommy stuck around, Arthur was cheering, and John ‘n Finn were dancing with me. Nobody said a word and danced with us. I sang “Electric” by Alina Baraz then “Cooler than Me” by Mike Posner before switching over to oldies. 

I stopped dancing and just started singing. The first oldies song I picked was “Can't Take My Eyes off You” by Frankie Valli, “Put Your Head On My Shoulder” by Paul Anka, “Dream a Little Dream of Me” by Doris Day. The crowd was slowing down, visibly tired so I sang “So This Is Love” by Ilene Woods.

When the song finished, I rubbed my throat. Tommy walked over to me and asked if I was alright. I nodded. “Okay, lads! One last song then I’m done!” I announced. I was racking me brain for the right song when a hand clasped me own. 

I looked up at Tommy. “What?” I asked. 

He had a smile on his face. “Sing a song we can dance too.” 

Me face contorted into something I couldn’t describe. I turned into a giggling mess. “What on Earth are you talking abar, Thomas Shelby?” Me voice had turned into a squeal by the end of me sentence. 

He took a hand in mine while the other rested on me hip. I put a hand over me mouth, absolutely speechless. 

“Let’s have a dance, Ali. I’m the only one you haven’t danced with.” 

I laughed with a big embarrassing smile on me face. I shook me head and sniffed as I regained me composure. I sang “At Last” by Etta James as I swayed with Tommy. I giggled a lot and covered me mouth. It felt like I was singing it to ‘em ‘n he got a kick out of it, making faces at me ‘n such. When I sang that we were in heaven, he rolled his eyes while shaking his head. 

We kept leaning into each other. But the final lyric came and so did the end of the dance. We stayed like that only for a moment, staring into each other’s eyes but then he broke it. 

“Right! Fire’s over, go on home!” He yelled. Tommy walked over to Arthur while I stared. Me mood was shattered just like that. 

I was surprised when someone tugged me to them. It was John, of course. I smacked his torso as he started walking us to the house. That night I slept in Tommy’s room. He stroked me hair ‘till I fell asleep.

The next morning, Polly and I were talking over drinks. I was sipping on juice while she had her tea.

Polly reached for the newspaper and started looking over it. 

“Looking for Tommy’s section?” I asked.

“Yes. I want to see how much trouble this boy has stirred up.”

Then Ada came in, making a beeline to the bread and jam.

“Good of you to join us.  Where have you been all day?” Polly asked Ada.

“In bed.” Ada replied. 

I looked away with widened eyes as I took a sip of me juice. 

As Ada was cutting herself a slice of bread, she continued talking. “Couldn't sleep. Then I couldn't wake up. Then I was cold, and then I had to go for a wee.” She grabbed the jam and her plate ‘n sat down at the table. “Then I was with this bear on a boat. That was just a dream. Then I was hungry.”

Polly made a point to stare at her, but Ada only started to get her serving of jam as she asked her. “Why are you reading the paper?”

“Why wouldn't I be?” Polly retorted.

“Well, I've never seen you read the paper. I've only ever seen you light fires with them.” Ada said before taking a bite out of her breakfast. 

“The BSA’s on strike.” Polly said while putting down the newspaper ‘n picking up her cuppa tea. “Miners are on strike. IRA are killing our boys. Ten a day.” I watched as Polly’s eyes widened. She connected the dots. 

‘I’ve been waiting for this moment! Now, I don’t have to tell blags anymore!’

I had to bite me tongue, so I wouldn’t smile. 

“Stand up.” Polly ordered Ada.

“Why?” Ada asked her.

“Just stand up.” Polly put down her cup as Ada put down her bread. They both stood up. “Side on.” 

Ada turned to her side and Polly grabbed her boob, lifting it up a little. 

I chuckled while Ada shouted. “Polly, what are you doing?” We looked at each other with grins on our faces. But Polly was not smiling.

“Ada,” She said concernedly. “How late are you?” 

Ada’s face changed from smiling to frowning. I mean she’d been caught. She looked away then at the ground. “One week.” She said. Ada took a look at Polly. “Five weeks.” The corner of her mouth lifted into a grimace before she admitted it all and Polly sat down. “Seven, if you count weekends. I think it's a lack of iron. I got some tablets.”

“But they didn’t work?” Polly asked. 

I pretended to be concerned about this whole thing. I rested me head on me hand as me elbow was on the table. A worried expression painted on me face. 

Ada sat back down. “No.” She answered while shaking her head, mockingly. 

Polly nodded her head. “Aliena, today you’re taking care of our Ada. I’ll make a telephone call, and see if we can get her an appointment with a woman I know to find out. Go on up to your room.” 

I instantly got up and took Ada’s scran in me hands. “Come on, love.” I said to her. 

She sighed before complying with Polly’s orders. 

As we were walking up the stairs, Ada asked me, “Ali, do you think I’m pregnant?” 

I looked at her with me own grimace. “It’s been seven weeks, Ada. You’d be abar two months into your pregnancy.” 

She whimpered with a scared look on her face. Then, she raced up the stairs. 

The whole day, she just ranted abar how she couldn’t have been pregnant or how she could. Abar how sure she was Tommy would kill Freddie, or they would try to kill each other. I tried soothing her the best I could. ‘Til she started crying ‘n I told her if she keeps on worrying like that she’d hurt the baby. That shut her up.

Polly came in abar 3 o’clock saying that she got Ada the appointment for 7. I was in charge of getting her bathed ‘n ready. Once we were all ready, we made the journey over to Polly’s friend. Ada had a death grip on me hand the whole time. 

Mrs. Simeon, was the woman’s name ‘n she checked if you were pregnant as a job. Sorry, I don’t know the name for it, but she’s like an OB-GYN— I think. Ada had to go into the room alone while me ‘n Polly waited outside the room. 

I sighed audibly while rubbing me forehead and me leg crossed on top of the other. “She’s pregnant, isn’t she, Pol?”

She sighed, too. “Fucking, yes.” 

Ada soon came out with a pout. I knew it was because Mrs. Simeon didn’t tell her the results. But she told them loud ‘n clear to Polly. She paid the woman and Ada stormed off. I ran after her and stole the ciggie she had lit from her hand. 

She protested but I held a finger to her. “No fucking smoking while you’re knocked up. You hear me, Ada? No fucking smoking from now on. It hurts the baby!” I looked down at the burning ciggie in me hand ‘n brought it to me lips. 

I took a puff out of it. Polly came out. “Keep bloody walking, the both of youse.” Polly took hold of Ada’s arm. I followed after them, still smoking. 

“If anybody sees us here, they'll know."

“I'm not getting rid of it, Aunt Pol.” 

“Just come home and we'll talk about it.”

“You get off of me, or I'll scream it, I swear.” Ada yanked her arm out of Polly’s grip. She stood still, effectively stopping us all. I leaned on one side, bringing the ciggies to me lips for another puff. 

Polly looked ‘round as if trying to look out for familiar faces. “All right, you want to do this on the street? Let's do it. Whose is it?”

“If I tell you, you'll tell them and they'll cut him to pieces.”

“Not if he marries you, they won't. Will he marry you?”

“I don't know. I don't know where he is.”

“Jesus Christ, Ada!” Polly exclaimed while I muttered, “Fuck!” 

I was just making little comments to keep up with appearances. I knew Freddie was on the run for now because of Campbell. I threw the ciggie on the ground and smashed it out. 

“Look, he's gone away but he said he'd come back.” Ada said while I scoffed.

“Yeah, but they all say they'll come back.”

“He's not like that, he's a good man, he promised.” Ada started breaking down, so Polly pulled her in for a hug. 

“He will come back, Aunt Pol, I know he will!” Ada said, muffled.

Polly looked at me while nodding her head and I took a surveying glance ‘round the street. I shook me head. 

After a few pats on the back, we hurriedly walked back home. 

I was out all day. I had to clean up John’s flat ‘n then collect from the families. When I was done hanging all of me stuff up, I walked into the parlor to see if anyone else was home. The doors to the betting shop were open ‘n sitting at the furthest table from the door was Tommy. 

He looked deep in thought. I walked over to him, me heels clicking against the floor. He looked up at me.

“Did you know?” He asked me.

“Know what?” 

“About Ada.” 

I was in front of him, now. I nodded. 

He scoffed before downing the drink he had already poured. “How long?”

I fiddled with me hands, humming. “Um. I caught them while I was looking for Ilsa. They were under a bridge that’s near one of Ilsa's friend’s home. I thought the girls might have been playing down there, and there they were.” 

“You didn’t tell me.”

“She begged me not to.”

“Your loyalties lie with her, then?” 

I scoffed while giving him a flabbergasted look. “Loyalties, Thomas? It’s women’s business, Tommy. Look at it this way, I’m telling you now.” 

He laughed, mirthlessly. He leaned back against his chair and poured himself another drink. 

‘Was probably shocked that I dared to use his own words against him.’

 “Are you mad at me?” Me voice came out small. Like a whisper. Me nerves were set a light. 

Tommy shook his head. “No, not mad.” He paused before leaning forward where he originally was. “I’m just surprised you can keep secrets from me. You are, afterall, so easy to read.” He gave me a pointed look, a mocking look. 

I bit me lip while looking up at the ceiling then away from him as I nodded. 

‘I wanted to ask him what he meant by that. But, I don’t think I’d like the answer.’

I cracked me thumb out of reflex. “Well, when you’ve calmed down, let’s talk.” I knocked on the table and then started walking back into the parlor.

“We can talk now.” 

I whipped ‘round. “No!” I yelled, tears streaming down me face and me hands immediately coming into the conversation. “You got a cob on ‘n I don’t want to talk to ya while you’re like that. We’ll both say things we don’t mean, or worse what you do mean to say and I don’t want to hear it right now!” Me arms went limp as they were previously held out in front of me. I nodded at him before turning back ‘round. I was wiping me tears when Polly walked past me. 

I ran to my room ‘n as much as I wanted to slam me door shut, I couldn’t. I leaned against the door as me shoulders shook with sobs. I slid down to the floor. I put me hand over me mouth, trying to stifle me sobs. 

I flinched when I heard the glass shatter. Polly had thrown Thomas’s glass at the wall.

Me thoughts were running at a million miles per hour. I wanted it to stop. I was still crying as I crawled to me bed and took out the suitcases. I opened the one with all the items and looked for something sharp. 

Then, I found it. A pocket knife. I left it out of the suitcase while I put the rest away. I sat against me bed and ran me fingers along the pocket knife. 

A thought ran across me mind, ‘I’ve never done it with a knife before.’

I choked on a sob and took a big gulp of air. 

‘I can’t take it anymore. What if I stayed down there and he made fun of me for having a crush on him? He’s gonna start pushing me away. I can’t take this anymore, not this much stress. I can’t bloody well tell him everything, but did he expect me too? But I can’t! I can’t do that all the time!’ I thought. 

I picked up me dress and bunched it up at me waist. I unclasped the knife that was in me left hand and held it at the outside of me left thigh.

It was scarless. I’ve never cut here before. I’ve done me stomach and arms, but never thighs. 

I got the sheets from me bed and stuffed them in me mouth in a hurry. Me breathing quickened even more as I pressed the knife against me skin. 

And then I just did it. The pain was euphoric. I watched the blood seep out of the cut I made. I did another and another. 

‘Fat. Ugly. Worthless. Manipulative. Annoying. Whore. Clingy. Slut.’ Were the thoughts that ran through me mind.

It was like I was snapped out of it when I heard a bang and then another right after it. I looked down at me thigh and it was all red. There were drops of blood on the floor. 

‘What do I do? How would I get all of this clean?’ 

I slammed me head back against me bed. I stopped crying and was just breathing hard. I dropped the knife and hid me face in me hands. I tugged me face down before I let it go. I sat there doin’ nothing. Then, I heard the door slam again and I rushed to my feet. 

I held me skirt up and ran to where we kept the medical supplies. I slammed it down on the counter near the sink as I sat on it. I looked around for alcohol ‘n I couldn’t find it. So, I hopped down ‘n shuffled to where Tommy was sitting at. 

I took the bottle in me hands ‘n then walked back to where I was. I sat down there again ‘n poured the alcohol onto me cuts. I winced a little, but the pain brought me more satisfaction than discomfort. I got a gauze pad in me hand ‘n placed it over them, then wrapped it ‘round. 

I heaved a big sigh when it was all said ‘n done. I sat there for a while before I decided to get back up. I got a dry cloth ‘n filled up a bowl with water then walked back up me room. 

After I scrubbed out the blood on me floor, I put it on me desk ‘n went to sleep. 

The next day, I didn’t see him. I knew he went to talk to Campbell ‘n then see Grace. I smelt the opium from his room. It made me cry and pick at me wounds, which I had been cleaning up secretly. 

Bloody Ilsa and Finn got good eyes. They asked me why I’ve been walking with a limp. I told them I’d banged me foot pretty hard. They, of course, believed it. 

It was morning. I was getting ready. I whimpered when I had to pick up me leg to put on me shoes, boots they were. When I had put down me leg, there was a knock on me door. 

I startled me for a second. I looked at me left thigh to see if any blood had seeped through, but there was none. 

“Come in.” I said. 

The door opened and in came Tommy. I scoffed at the sight of him.

“You said that we’d talk when I wasn’t angry anymore. So…” He was in one of his suits with his cap in his hands. 

“It took you a day to get over it?” 

“I was busy.” 

“Sure.” I said as I already felt like crying. I closed me eyes and pinched me nose. When I opened me eyes, I kept them to the ground. 

He cleared his throat. “First, I want to apologize for making you cry. I know you don’t like it when I raise my voice and I took advantage of that. I know that when it comes to women things are different, especially when it's about romance. I had no reason to lash out the way I did at you, so for that I’m sorry.”

I nodded. “I accept your apology, Tommy. Anything else?” I lifted me head and looked right at him.

He looked away, trying to rack his mind for whatever he did wrong. 

I made a smacking noise with me mouth before I said. “I’ll help you out. There was a smell coming from your room.” 

Tommy’s eyes closed tightly. “I used opium to go to sleep last night, sorry.” 

I shrugged. “Don’t do it again.”

Tommy nodded before slowly making his way out of me door. He turned back ‘round with his cap now on his head. “You know, you have the nose of a blood hound.” 

I nodded with a smug smile across me face. “And the eyes of an eagle. And the ears of an elephant, so be more careful ‘round me.” 

He had a little smile before walking away. I kept me own little grin. I snapped me fingers twice and clapped me hands. Another reflex of mine.  

Me eyes widened when I realized I had something to tell him. “Tommy!” I shouted. I ran after him and caught him by the arm on the stairway. 

“What is it?” He asked. 

I blinked before letting him go. “Today’s meeting will be fine ‘n as long as you keep your ego or pride in check. It’ll go the way you want it, okay?”

His eyes widened, eyes shifting from left to right with his mouth hanging slightly open. “Okay” He said. 

I smiled and told him goodbye. 

I watched as he left. He gave me a two-finger salute before the door closed. 

His meeting with Billy Kimber will be fine!

I went back to me room to finish doing me hair. 

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[lifesabe-ch]

this means war - billy r. and frank c. (part 4)

summary: this is a spin-off from a movie (can anyone find the title?, lol), starring Billy Russo and Frank Castle. In this AU, Billy isn’t a psycho, Frank’s family is alive, and they both really like coffee. And, you know, Y/N.

pairings: Frank Castle x Reader, Billy Russo x Reader (actually both of them, I promise)

warnings: nada

a/n: we reread this last night and we love it so we’re finishing it :)  (with @pitaparka, because she very heavily co-wrote this)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3

Smoothing out the wrinkles in your new dress, you did a small spin in front of your phone.

“Are you sure this looks okay? Nope, not okay. Good. Does this look good?”

“Y/N,” Morgan’s voice came through the phone, her bored expression reflected on the screen through your FaceTime call.

“You look great. Your makeup is amazing, your outfit makes you look like a model or something, and your hair... I guess, it could use some work.”

“Morgan,” You scowled, a hand immediately finding a way up to your curls, desperately trying to make them look better than they already did.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding… kinda. Look, he’s gonna love you, one way or another. You’re a jaw dropper, baby!” Rolling your eyes at how quickly she could turn an insult to a compliment, you fixed your lipstick in your mirror, “You’re ridiculous.”

You could see her shrug, a grin still present on her features, “Hey, I’m not the one telling myself that I won’t fuck the hottest guy I’ve ever seen, first chance I get.”

“I never said that I won't... just that I probably shouldn’t.”

“Like I said before, and I'm the ridiculous one?”

As your phone buzzed incessantly with a call you hurriedly grabbed it, “Ahh, he’s calling me, I'll talk to you later.”

“You better tell me everything! I mean it, Y/N—”

Ending the call before she could finish, you quickly switched to the other line, “Hello?”

“Hey you.” Upon hearing Billy’s voice, a smile immediately found its way onto your lips.

“I have a favor to ask.”

As you grabbed your coat and purse and moved towards the door, you nodded despite him not being able to see you, “What’s up?”

“Could we meet at the restaurant instead? I hate to do this to you but the meeting I’m in is running a little behind and if I pick you up we might miss our reservation completely...” Billy’s voice came out rushed, a hushed tone to his words.

“That’s fine. I’ll see you there?”

He chuckled, “Of course”

You grabbed your keys, a small smile on your lips as you gently shut your apartment door behind you, hanging up.

__

For what seemed to be the hundredth time in the last hour, the waitress wandered over to you, a sympathetic look on her face, “Nothing yet?”

You checked your phone in hopes to see something, anything, hopefully a text to let you know why you were sitting there alone. When you found nothing, you shook your head, dejected, “Can I just have the check, please?”

“It’s on me.”

“You don’t have to do that—”

The woman rested a hand on the ten dollar bill, an understanding expression on her face, “I want to, hun. It’s the least I can do.”

You sighed, “Thank you.”

Getting out of there, you sat in your car for a moment. You could, theoretically, wait in your car to see if he ever showed up. Or, you know, just go home. But you didn’t want to do either of those things.

So, instead, you got out, walked the short distance to the pub, found a seat at the corner of the bar, and began knocking back drinks.

Or, your version of knocking back drinks anyway.  It was more like, drink.

You were upset, sure, but you didn’t want to be hung over. Even as you tried to sip at the glass in front of you, you couldn’t help but scowl at it.

“Not an alcohol fan, huh?”

You turned, then you paused.

You were pleasantly surprised to find Frank sitting down next to you, an almost empty beer in his grasp.

“Oh. Hi.”

He smiled, offering you a slight nod, “Hey there, sweetheart. What brings you here?”

You scoffed lightly, your mood getting the better of you, “What, now I’m not allowed to have a drink?”

“You are, y’just… don’t seem to like it very much.”

“Oh,” You paused, swirling the liquid around in your glass but never taking a sip from it, “You’re not wrong. I just… didn’t want to go home.”

“So… here?”

“So here.”

The two of you remained silent for a moment, before Frank spoke, “Hey, you hungry?”

You smiled slightly, nodding, “I could eat.”

Abandoning the almost full drink in your hands, you left the bar with Frank.

__ 

When you got there, you couldn’t help but smile as you looked around, taking in the red and white booths and the hardwood panelling on the walls. The fluorescent lights were a bit harsh, but the kind looking night staff made up for it.  

“I have to admit, I’m feeling a tad bit overdressed.” You said, Frank guiding you to a booth in the back. You could picture him, eating by himself on a Saturday morning, watching the sun rise, pancakes, toast, bacon, and eggs put together on a plate and served with a smile.

Frank chuckled, shaking his head, “A little, but you do look beautiful.”

You smiled,  “You say that but the only other thing you’ve seen me in is my uniform.”

“Which, I gotta say,  you look beautiful in as well.”

You shook your head, heat rushing your face, “Thank you.”

The menu wasn’t extravagant, but it didn’t need to be. Frank looked at it as a formality probably. He looks like the kind of guy who knows what he wants. The kind of guy who orders the same thing every day. You think about Billy for a second, aware of the new turn the night has taken.

All of a sudden, a new song starts playing over the speakers, you, suddenly very aware of the music “I love this song!”

Frank smiled as you began humming along to Dancing in the Moonlight, your head bopping along to the beat.

From his spot, he extended a hand. Your brow immediately raised, “What’re you doing?”

“Asking you to dance with me.”

You smiled, a teasing edge to your voice, “Who said I wanted to dance with you?”

Frank feigned hurt, turning to look behind him before continuing, “Well, you can’t say no to me now. We’ve got an audience.”

Glancing around the nearly empty diner, you noticed a teenage couple had taken note of the two of you, as well as the waitress. You smiled, taking Frank’s hand and chuckling as he spun you around.

The two of you danced for the duration of the song as if in your own bubble, you pressed up to his chest, one hand in his and the other between his shoulder blades. It was so oddly personal so fast, but it didn’t feel wrong. You closed your eyes and relished in his scent, feeling his warmth and the callouses where his fingers met his palms. The song seemed shorter than you remembered, and the two of you sat back down much sooner than you would have liked.

A small chorus of applause came from the young couple, the waitress having gotten bored with your uneventful dancing. She’s probably telling her coworkers about the couple who came in and danced before they ordered anything. You flashed Frank a grin, “Thank you. You know, for tonight. It means a lot.”

“Nah, I should be thanking you. If you hadn’t walked into that bar, I would’ve been stuck there all night with Bottle Bob.”

“Bottle bob?” You questioned, raising a brow.

“He’s a blast. He steals the beer bottles off tables when people get up to go to the bathroom.

Sometimes just when they look away. Very risque.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “Maybe I should’ve invited Bottle Bob out. He sounds like a good time.”

He chuckled, “Next time.”

“Next time?”

Leaning forward across the table, he grinned, “Well yeah, you can’t just leave me hanging.”

You leaned in yourself, leaving only a little space between the two of you, “I can’t?”

“Nope. It’d be rude. Besides, you’ve still got to make up giving me your sour hopes and dreams.”

Your gaze flicked between his lips and his eyes, “I can think of a few other ways to do that.”

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@full-of-sins-not-tragedies, @harrysthiccthighss, @constellation---me, @editboutique, @achesiresmile, @ghastlygray, @muddleofmarvel​

[hystericalweenie]

Just Another Day at the Office - The Sexperiment

George MacKay x Reader Series

Part Five: Make It or Break It

Masterlist

Summary: Y/f/n Y/l/n is doing better than ever; she’s finally in a relationship with the man she’s been constantly thinking about, she has some great friends, and she’s thriving at her dream job. Except, there’s one problem: being in a relationship with one of your coworkers can get really steamy, and can cause a lot of sexual frustration. Her new pitch idea may solve exactly that problem, but will George be okay with it?

a/n: I have absolutely no personal experience in magazine/journalism career, so the information in this fic will be provided with the knowledge I have conducted from research. With that being said, please don’t be mad if this is not accurate!!! **“The Sexperiment” is inspired by an actual Cosmopolitan article (here’s the link!) IM SO SORRY FOR BEING GONE SO LONG I’m here to finish this shit once and for all... I know it’s been a while, but I hold this series so close to my heart and I still have the same love for it as I did when I wrote my last chapter (I know it’s only been a few months but STILL) if you’re reading this, I just want to thank you for sticking around, you’re the best <3

Warnings: This is a slow burn fic, their relationship won’t happen in one night, so if you’re not into that, check out some of the beautifully written imagines that you can most likely find under the george mackay x reader tag. I might eventually write some of my own too :P At least one person’s saying “fuck” and there’s NSFW content..aka smut. You have been warned. Also angst :/ srry this is kinda short

I was in the worst possible situation I could have ever imagined: I had to choose between my dream job and my dream man.

Bree arrived home about twenty minutes later by herself. My bedroom door creaked open, signaling her arrival. She frowned at my appearance, which seemed to be mascara smudged all over my eyes and cheeks and swollen, bloodshot eyes.

She sat down beside me, pulling me into her. “Y/n, I am so, so, sorry.”

I let out a croaked sigh, “I-it’s fine, he was going t-to find out eventually.”

“I’m sure he’ll come around,” she rubbed my back soothingly. “I think he’s in love with you.”

“It doesn't matter if he’s in love or not!” I exclaimed, pulling out of her embrace, my emotions arising again. “He’ll never forgive me for this.”

Hot tears began to stream down my face and I felt my bottom lip tremble. Bree took it as a cue to leave me be, so she quietly exited to her own bedroom.

What the fuck was I going to do?

This job was the job I’d been looking for my entire life; it was the job I’d dreamed about working at. 

But, George... 

George was everything. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that George would have ever fucked up the way I did. I wouldn’t ever have to question his loyalty, he’d proven to be trustworthy and honest. He treated me like a princess, a way I’d only ever been treated by my father. I wasn’t sure if I’d hurt more without him or without a job. He never failed to make me smile or laugh, and he’d ensure that I always felt safe. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever fall in love again, until I met him.

I could get a job anywhere, but there was only one George MacKay.

I had to delete the article.

I headed to the kitchen and made myself two cups of coffee before cracking my knuckles and getting to work. 

Dean, 

This is an emergency. If you don’t reply now or tomorrow, I’m going to be in deep, deep shit.

I didn't have time to wait for his response; I got right to work. 

What are people into nowadays, I thought to myself. Sex.

Ping. I clicked on my email.

Y/n,

What? 

Well, anything’s better than the fucking Sexperiment article. 

Dean,

I have to write a new article. George found out. BAD. Can’t release it, I have to fix this.

Also, would you say your penis size relates to your shoe size at all? It’s for the article.

Promise!

Well, I thought, here goes nothing. My fingers began typing immediately. The caffeine made my fingers shake slightly, but I was determined to write anything. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get George back, but I knew I had to. This was a start, at least. 

Ping.

Y/n,

Knew that was going to happen. I’ll help you out, but you owe me. Can we do this tomorrow though? It’s Friday night. Uhhh and to ur other question: I don’t think so. Not going to elaborate more than that. Hope that’s good enough.

I rolled my eyes.

Dean,

Fine. I’ll send you my drafts and you better respond as soon as you can.

I prayed to every possible higher power that this would work. I began conducting research, reading articles and articles about the relationship between the size of a man’s penis and the size of a man’s feet. I wrote down statistics, quotes, and scientific evidence–making sure to exclude any personal experience. I spent hours explaining the theory and science behind it and citing every single quote.

I wasn’t sure exactly what was going to happen, but I prayed that Connie wouldn’t be too pissed at me and George would hopefully see how genuinely sorry I was. I knew I’d fucked up, I got too caught up in trying to impress my boss that I practically sabotaged my own relationship in the process. I hadn’t received a single text message or call from him. I missed the way he smelt of sandalwood and vanilla, I missed entangling my fingers in his soft, sandy locks. I missed the way his skin felt against mine and his velvety voice when he called me “love”.

Tears ran down my cheeks once again as these memories lingered in my head. I stared at my computer screen, my eyelids drooping; I needed a break. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep, so I decided that I was going to be entirely committed on staying up all night. Making a sandwich for myself, I sat and watched television for a moment, attempting to distract me from my obvious thoughts. And once I felt slightly more energized, I resumed reading articles, highlighting quotes, and writing. I continued this until Bree woke up, yawning as she swung her bedroom door open.

“Jesus, Y/n,” she observed, my figure at the kitchen table still hunched over, staring at my screen. “Were you up all night?”

“Yeah,” my voice was raspy from exhaustion. “There’s a pot of coffee waiting for you.”

She smiled softly, walking behind me and wrapping her arms around me. “All couples fight, you know.”

I sighed, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore; I need to get this article done.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re writing a new article?”

“Of course I am,” I defended, my eyes not leaving my screen. 

She poured herself a cup of the hot liquid.

“You love him.”

My eyes began to water and I fought to blink it away.

“Damn right I do,” I muttered to myself, though I was sure she heard me.

After finishing the draft of the article, I sent it over to Dean. Bree suggested that we go see our friends to distract me, but I wanted to stay home. I needed to write the final draft, and see George...both as soon as possible. Bree stayed around to make sure I’d be okay, watching television with me until Dean responded back with the edits. Once he finally did, I was rewriting the article and using his edits to perfect it. Once I’d finally finished it for Monday, I shut my laptop, grabbed my keys, and began driving to his house.

After parking, I climbed up the stairs until I reached his apartment door. I knocked a few times, nerves churning inside my stomach as I pondered all of the possible reactions he’d have. My biggest fear was that he’d never want to see me again. The door opened, revealing himself in a t-shirt and pajama pants, eyes puffy and bloodshot; I was sure my eyes looked the same.

 “I-” I began, letting out a sigh. “I rewrote the article.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“It’s still sex-themed, but it doesn’t have any connection or correlation to you,” I explained, my voice beginning to croak. “I can email it to you, if you’d like. You can read it, see if it’s okay first.”

He shook his head silently. It was apparent that he didn’t know what to say either.

“I know I fucked up,” my voice broke and my bottom lip trembled. “I shouldn’t have come up with an article like that, it was so fucking awful of me to embarrass you in front of your coworkers.”

Tears began to run down my face and I couldn't help but hiccup.

“P-please, George,” I whimpered.

His eyes began to well with tears of his own, and he pulled me into his arms. 

“I’m sorry for yelling at you outside of the restaurant,” he whispered, hugging me close to him.

“Oh, George,” I sobbed. “That was nothing; all you’ve done is treat me like gold, and I nearly exposed our fucking sex life to the world.”

He pulled away, cupping both of my cheeks with his palms, his blue orbs staring into mine, his eyelashes thick from wet tears and the whites of his eyes red.

“Please,” he begged, his voice cracking, “don’t lie, nor do something behind my back ever again.”

I pressed my hands against the backs of his, still holding my face in his palms. 

“Never again,” I confirmed, throwing my arms around him to feel the warm embrace I thought I’d never feel again. I could inhale his scent, hear his heartbeat through his chest, stare into his ocean blue orbs, and feel the soft sandy curls on his head.

He read the article, and though it made him slightly uncomfortable that I was writing about penises, he designed simple art that would make the article pop in the magazine. Then, we laid in his bed for hours, listening to each others heartbeats, listening to our breathing rhythms, staring into each others eyes as if we were silently communicating to one another. 

We decided to take a shower together, stripping each other of our clothes slowly and meaningfully. Once the hot water was running down our bare skin, we washed each other; shampooing each others hair slowly and washing our bodies tenderly, leaving kisses on wet shoulders and necks. Once we got out and dried off, we got back into his bed and maintained a spooning position, his bare torso against my bare back, as we dozed off to the warm, comforting feeling of our bare skin touching. 

Monday morning, I sat down at my desk and sent the new article to Connie, anxiety making me bite my nails as I waited for a response back. 

Ping.

Oh, no, I thought to myself.

Y/n,

Meet me in the conference room with Dean.

Connie

I sighed, exchanging looks with Dean–whom was reading the email over my shoulder–before we made our way to the conference room. She stood, her arms crossed, as we entered the room. I gulped, heart racing and sweat starting to form at my palms. The two of us sat ourselves, waiting for her to begin.

She joined us in a chair across from us, her elbows resting against the table.

“Well?” she began, her voice questioning. “What happened to the article?”

Dean looked at me, waiting for me to speak for myself. I braced myself before talking.

“The Sexperiment article wasn’t working for me, Connie,” I explained nervously, “I wasn’t having much luck writing it, and I wasn’t confident that it’d reach the magazine’s standards.”

I had to lie; I couldn’t tell her that the article nearly jeopardized my relationship. Dean sat next to me, silent.

She sighed, “I hope this one will reach the ‘magazine’s standards’, then,” she mimicked, before standing up and flattening her skirt. “I’ll publish the article, but this is a warning: do not change your article without contacting me first.”

And with that, we were dismissed, panic still swimming in our stomachs. Well, I thought, I chose George over my job; what else was I expecting?

[guardianofjunmyeon]

Finding Atlantis (part 4)

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: Action/Adventure, Enemies to Lovers, PirateAU

Description:  20 years ago the seas became angry. Unruly and unkind to any sailor, to  any ship that dared venture too far out in her waters. Many a man has  heard the tales of Atlantis, the lost city, the key the ocean. But fewer  men know the tale of it’s missing child. The key to the ocean, the key  to Atlantis but a lost little one. The power one would hold should they  find this child would be nearly that of Poseidon himself. Thus, the hunt  began.    

A/N: HAPPY BAEKHYUN DAY (for some of the world, it’s no longer his birthday here but shush) HERE’S A NEW CHAP!!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18

Jongin comes into the room with breakfast, early the next day. You shake off the sleep that you were finally falling into. It’s hard to get much sleep when your body is stuck in a position like the one they've left you in.

The exhaustion sits heavily over you, but at the very least you aren’t dying of hunger or thirst any longer. Your hair itches; you sweat through the night and can feel your clothes clinging to you grossly. You can feel the bags under your eyes getting heavier with each passing minute.

He looks at your pitiful state with a sigh as he sits again at your side; his hands holding a bowl of what looks like a basic porridge. Last night you kept your mouth closed and let your own questions fester in your mind, but today you think that you may be able to get something out of the man in front of you.

It’s not like you have anything to lose. At worst you’ll be taken to the brig, but even that is better than another night unable to sleep like this.

You decide to start innocently. “Where did your Captain sleep last night? I’m assuming that I’m in his bed; he didn’t come back here.”

He looks at you with wide eyes. “Baekhyun? He’s been sleeping with the crew. He shares a bed with Sehun; it’s really cute,” he shares with a smile on his face. He lifts the spoon of the porridge to your mouth and you take the spoon between your lips.

You didn’t ask him for all of that other information; you don’t even know who Sehun is. You continue with the next logical question. “Sehun is…?”

“Sehun works with the maps,” is all he says. You hum.

He brings another spoonful to your mouth as you think of how to word your next question. “Are we still headed to turn me in for a bounty?” you ask, adding a slight tremble to your voice to hopefully pull on his heartstrings.

He looks at you quickly, nervously. His answer is a wordless shrug.

“Please, it’s my life on the line. I can’t even know where I’m headed? It’s not like I’m able to get anywhere with my hands tied like this,” you beg. You rattle the cuffs for added effect. “You don’t even have to tell me where the destination actually is. Just if I’m going to someone who might kill me,” you try.

He don’t answer immediately, instead lifts the spoon again. You swallow the food and plead with your eyes whenever he catches yours. He sighs in defeat. “Captain decided to change course last night, I don’t know where we’re headed now. I don’t think you’re going to die.”

You sag in relief. Thank Poseidon.

Jongin watches your reaction closely at the release of the new information. “What did you say to him yesterday? When he has a plan in mind, he doesn’t often change course.”

You decide to share honestly. “I told him that he has the wrong person and that the price for the princess’s return to Atlantis is worth more than the bounty for her.”

“You’re not the princess?” he asks shocked.

“If I was really the princess do you think that I would lie about not being the princess just to save my skin and get some other fake princess turned in, and risk not only getting an innocent killed but also potentially myself?” you ask.

He squints at you as he processes the poorly worded question. “I mean…probably.” The spoon is brought again to your lips. “If you’re not the princess, then who is?”

You shake your head. “I can’t tell you that, kid. I told her I would keep her identity a secret, and that I would get her home safely. That’s all I can tell you.”

“So you’re just trying to get her home safely?” he asks thoughtfully. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“What about the money?” he asks skeptically.

“I don’t care about the money. She means a lot to me, and her safety comes first. If I can ensure that I can get her home where she belongs, then I would give up all the money in the world.”

You end up eating three more spoonfuls as the words settle between you both. You begin to worry that maybe he doesn’t believe you at all and will ignore all that you’ve said to go about his day. You’re counting on him bringing this information back to Baekhyun. There’s a 99% possibility he’s meant to gather information as much as he is supposed to feed you.

You finish the porridge; he looks at the bandages around your head. “I’ll be back later to check on your wound,” is all he says. He stands and leaves the room without another word.

You exhale heavily and pray to the Gods that they’re on your side and can help you get out of this alive, with the way to Atlantis, and minimal damage.

Boredom sets in as you’re rocked with the ship alone in the room. Left with nothing but your thoughts, you try to think of an escape plan.

If you are no longer headed to the bounty then you assume you’re headed to his source. You close your eyes and try to think like Baekhyun. If you were in his shoes what would be your plan?

Figure out if you’re lying would be the first step. How else can he do that if he doesn’t take you right to the source and match up what you’ve told him with what the other person has?

But he could leave you on the ship while he meets with them; that would throw a wrench in your plan.

You need to guarantee that he’ll be taking you off the ship with him. You’ll sit in the meeting with him and then once you get the information that you want out of the source you’ll make a run for it. You’ll slam your head into Baekhyun’s and fight whoever tries to stop you…

A hair pin. That's what you need when you get off the ship. To free yourself from the cuffs. Seulgi taught you her little trick, but with your hands above you, it’s harder to free yourself.

And you’d still just be stuck on the ship with nowhere to go.

If you can escape him on land, you can find a way on a ship to Arae. You crew knows to meet you there if anyone is ever separated from the ship.

Memories of the sound of canons flood your ears. Your gut sinks. Your crew will meet you in Arae…if any of them survived the bombing that is.

~~~

Eat, sleep, be yanked over to a chamber pot to piss and shit. Eat, sleep, be yanked over to a chamber pot to piss and shit.

The routine gets boring extremely quick.

You count 14 days of being stuck aboard the ship. Only a few days ago were you upgraded from both hands bound to just one. Now you can maneuver yourself enough to go to the bathroom without waiting for one of Baekhyun’s crewman to hover over you as you empty out your body. You can even get a decent night’s sleep!

When you wake up feeling wetness between your legs and smelling the distinct smell of your menstruation, you curse profusely. “Guard! Guard! I’m bleeding!”

You toss the sheets off your body to take in the puddle of blood that has soaked through your pants and onto the light colored sheets of the bed. You watch the door open as a man you’ve come to know as Chanyeol sees the blood on the sheets and then quickly leaves with wide eyes.

The door closes with a slam and you hear raised voices outside. Baekhyun comes storming into the room minutes later.

“I swear to fuck if this is some kind of ruse,” the blood catches his eye and his nose scrunches up in disgust.

“I need some help here,” you say flatly. “I can’t get clean or fix this without both of my hands.”

“Jongin!” Baekhyun shouts.

The man enters the room frantically at the sound of his captain. He looks from Baekhyun, to you, to the blood surrounding you, and you watch the understanding spread across his features. He leaves with a rushed, “Got it.”

“What is he gonna do to help?” you ask angrily.

“He has two older sisters. You aren’t the only human who bleeds from their vagina,” Baekhyun responds bluntly. Two men enter the room with buckets of water and fill the tub across the room. Jongin comes back in with what seems to be a substitute for what you usually use when your cycle hits. You’re as shocked as you are impressed.

Everyone moves around with hushed words and hurried movements as you tiredly watch them with your eyes. Soon enough everyone leaves the room.

Everyone but Baekyun.

“You are not bathing me yourself,” you assert.

“Oh shut up.” He walks over and unlocks your hand. You cradle it to your chest and rub the raw skin. He motions to the tub, and you look between it and him. He rolls his eye and turns to face the opposite wall. You undress while keeping your eyes trained on his back. “Hurry up. I’m not going to look. I’ve seen you naked before, don’t start acting shy now.” He huffs to himself and crosses his arms.

You chuck your boot at his back. It collides with a satisfying thud. He moans in pain.

You sink into the tub with a smile on your face. The two of you inhabit the room together in silence as you scrub your skin with soap for the first time in weeks.

He sighs. “We’re headed to my Atlantis informant.”

You perk up at the sudden information. “Oh?”

“I don’t know if you’re lying or not about being the princess, but they’ll be able to tell me with certainty. Then I’ll figure out what to do with you.” You pause in your washing.

“So you thought about what I said then?” You feel smug.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I just want to know the truth before I turn you in. I’d rather not get killed because you decided to make shit complicated. If you’d just given up the princess then we wouldn't even be here.”

You sigh to yourself. “I couldn't do that. I swore a fucking oath. I have to get her home, and neither you, nor any other dumbass pirate lord bounty hunter is going to get in my way.” The water splashes as you scrub more vigorously.

He looks a bit over his shoulder. “Why do you care so much about getting her home anyway?”

“You’ve heard the legends, and you’ve seen it for yourself. The ocean needs her. She needs the ocean, she needs her home. I don’t know what will happen if she’s gone for longer than she’s already been missing. I know that you can sense how much more violent the waters have gotten. Ships go missing every day now. It needs her home, Baekhyun.”

You watch as his shoulders sag and his head tilts to look at the ceiling. Moments pass of nothing but the sounds of you trying to finish washing away the grime that built on your skin. “Are you done yet?”

Taking that as your cue to finish up, you stand from the tub. Dirty water drips from your skin.

You rip the bloodied sheets off the bed and put the time worn blouse you’d been wearing back on. “What am I supposed to wear? My pants are fucking gross; I’m not putting them back on.”

He turns to find you holding the sheet across your waist. “Sounds to me like you’re out of luck.”

“Baekhyun,” you warn.

He rolls his eye. “Just grab something out of the dresser. Don’t get any more blood on my shit.” He points a finger at you in warning. He leaves the room with a solid slam of the door; you flick him off childishly.

Alone again, you search through the dresser and pull out a loose pair of black slacks that look way too big to belong to Baekhyun. You have no luck finding any kind of underwear, so you settle for washing your ruined underwear and pants in the bathwater still sitting in the tub.

You’ll leave them out to dry along the edge.

~~~

Another 12 days at sea go by. You’re brought food and then left to your lonesome. You have minimal contact with the crew now that you’ve been allowed to walk around the room not handcuffed to the bed.

You only see Jongin when he comes to deliver your food and pick up the trash. The wound on your head is basically all healed.

Baekhyun comes in every few days or so to threaten you to behave or else he’ll chain you back up. “It’s a privilege, not many can afford, being able to walk around my room freely like this,” he says.

When you aren’t sleeping, you’re praying that your crewmen are alive and well and on their way to Arae recouping.

You know that you’ve arrived at your final destination after 26 days aboard Baekhyun’s ship when you hear sudden shouting about weighing anchor. Like a puppy getting the opportunity to go outside for the first time in its life, you stand and wait by the door to be summoned.

“Come get me. Come get me. Come get me,” you mutter repeatedly under your breath. When the door opens you hold in the exhale of relief you desperately want to release. Baekhyun enters with his eyebrows furrowed at you standing eagerly at the door.

Chanyeol enters close behind. “Clap her in the irons,” Baekhyun instructs. You hold out your hands in front of you with little more than a scoff in reply. The heavy weight of the metal brings your hands back down against the front of your body. Baekhyun walks behind you and blinds you with a thick cloth. He tightens it with a purpose and you grunt in discomfort. You can nearly hear his smile when he says, “Let’s go.”

The sounds of shouting across the ship and on the dock fill your ears. You attempt to catch any sound you can.

“That’s 50 dollars to dock for the week!”

“You’re a bastard John! Give me what you owe.”

“20 to look, 50 to touch.”

You’re relieved to know that this isn’t some abandoned island (again). And that you aren’t going to be left dead with nothing but the key to your cuffs (again).

You stumble forward blindly for what feels like an hour. The blindfold isn’t removed until you’re sat in a chair inside of some place you can’t distinguish by sound.

The cloth is taken away swiftly. Blinking away the confusion and sensitivity to the sudden light exposure, you look around curiously. It seems to be some antique shop. Knick-knacks and jars full of liquids fill the room. You’re sat a small table, Baekhyun sits lounging lazily on your right, and a woman you don’t know sits in front of you.

You look behind the woman and find Chanyeol blocking the only door to the room. Okay. This is doable. You glance around in hopes of finding something around that you could pick your cuffs with.

The woman looks at you with an unreadable expression for all of 10 minutes before her eyes drag over to Baekhyun. “Why have you brought this girl to me Baekhyun?” she asks. Her black hair shines in the candlelight of the room.

“I need to find Atlantis, and I need her to do that,” he says curtly. “First of all, is she the princess, yes or no?” Right to the point.

The woman looks back at you; you look at her.

“No…the sea runs through her, but she is not a child of the sea.”

Baekhyun looks at you and you suppress a triumphant smirk. The woman stands up, she’s tiny you realize, and walks to you. You and Baekhyun follow her with your eyes (all three of them) as she silently unlocks the metal around your wrists. They fall to the ground loudly.

You rub your wrist and blink back at her. That makes your life a lot easier…

Baekhyun lets out a sound of disagreement. “Come on Irene, you can’t just go around freeing people’s prisoners.”

Irene glares at him and he quickly closes his mouth. “You know that I don’t work with prisoners in my midst. She is a guest, the same as you are,” she comments. You bow your head respectfully. She places her neatly manicured hands atop the table. “Now, why have you come to me about Atlantis?” The question is directed at you both.

Before you can speak, Baekhyun has already begun. “What do you know about Atlantis? About the missing princess? About how to find it?” he rattles off.

“I thought you didn’t care about some stupid lost city,” you mumble under your breath.

She holds up a finger to silence the both of you. She stands gracefully, wordlessly and walks to the bookcase along the wall by the door. She browses the books, finger dragging across the worn spines, until she stops on a blue backed book just as old as the rest. She pulls it from the shelf and drops it on the table between you all with a resounding thud. Chanyeol jumps in his spot.

“Atlantis has existed long before human civilization,” she starts. She sits down and opens the book to the very middle. “It was created by Poseidon himself as a place on Earth where he could be closer to his element and watch as humanity began to flourish. His children rule the city as he lives among the other Gods. Atlantis is advanced far beyond our years and was lost to tragedy when they demanded that they be worshipped for their contributions to the ocean.

“They were the keepers of the ocean. They do not control it; the ocean cannot be controlled. Rather, they listened to her woes, her joys, her concerns, her anger, and they aided her in her troubles. They angered the Gods by demanding that the other humans worship them, although most of them were human or part human themselves. Their civilization was ravaged with destruction and hidden in the deepest part of the ocean, never to be found by humanity again.

“Atlantians age three times as slow as the average human. There have been stories of people from Atlantis coming to the surface, curious about humanity since its punishment, desperate to live among the humans; however, there are no stories of humans traveling to Atlantis since it fell. There are no descriptions of the city, for it is sacrilegious to discuss with a non native. Because of this, the existence of this city is still believed to be a myth by most of humanity.” She points to a short paragraph in the book. “There are no descriptions, but there is record of the Atlantian return song.”

“Return song?” you ask.

“A song that helps those who are lost find their way home. Only another Atlantian can lead you to Atlantis,” she warns. Her fingers trace the words as she reads. “Follow the sound of your soul, she’ll call out to you to bring you back to your shoal. She’ll fight you to prove that your heart is true, to crush you and build you back stronger in her darkest shade of blue. Beautiful songs will call out to confuse the path, to distract you, but remembering your heart will get you through. She’ll finally take you in her arms again, cradled and safe where all life began.”

You sit with bated breath as she finishes the rhyme. Parts of this you knew, other parts you don’t know whether or not to believe.

Baekhyun asks, “And what about the princess? What do we know about her?” You feel anxiety ringing through your every nerve.

“She’s been missing for 20 years. From what we can tell, she left when she was still young. She has been called by many names, and there are even more descriptions of her looks. But there is only one description.

“Skin smooth and pale, like a pearl hidden far below the waves. Hair as black as the deepest part of the sea. Wide, round eyes, innocent as you can find. Small pink lips like a single petal sitting atop a calm sea. Blue etchings, like waves, will appear on her skin when she is returned home, the mark of royalty by birth.” She says.

You exhale shakily and turn to Baekhyun. “I told you; that’s nothing like me.” You attempt to joke but it comes out shallow to your own ears.

She continues on. “There are many names for those who control the sea: Poseidon, Neptune, Tefnut, Aegaon, Leucothea, Mazu, and Hydros to name just a few. We claim Poseidon as king, as the main God of the seas. Each of Poseidon’s children were created half human, and were born with a destiny tied to the sea. Whether it be to clean it, to create new life, to guide lives lost to the other side, they are taught their respective destiny from the day they are born.” Irene’s eyes lose focus. “The lost child…the youngest…ran away early in her life and has left destiny unanswered. She is destined to save all the seas. That is why she is called guardian. Guardian of the Ocean.”

“Suho…” you whisper shakily.

She blinks and the focus returns to her gaze. She looks to you in surprise. “You’ve heard this name before?”

You nod and inhale. “Yes, I have.” You can feel Baekhyun’s gaze burning into the side of your skull, but you are too caught up in Irene’s words to care. “How would she be able to get home? Do you have any specific way to get her back outside of the song?” Your voice sounds desperate to your own ears.

Irene taps her nails on the table, “The ocean already wants her. It calls out to her. She must follow its song and the rhyme of her people to return. I fear if she doesn’t return soon then the ocean’s anger may be irreversible.” Her eyes lock with yours and you see wildness in them. The calm look she sported when you first met is long gone, replaced with insanity. Her hands grab yours and squeeze tightly, almost painfully. “You must do whatever you can to get him back.”

“Him?” Baekhyun mutters at your side.

Irene stands abruptly and begins searching through all of the things in the room. You feel sick. “Him?” Baekhyun whispers to you in question.

You don’t get the chance to respond. Irene hands you a compass and a map with shaking hands. “This map will help you find your way to and from Atlantis when used with the song. The compass will guide you to the thing you want most in this world. Use both of these tools to aid you in your travels. It will be dangerous. Be careful traveler.” She squeezes the objects in your hands and shares her hope, her trust in you through her look alone.

You clutch the objects as if your life depends on it and stand from your seat. Baekhyun scrambles to his feet after you.

“Thank you Irene. How can we repay you?” he asks genuinely.

She shakes her head. “The promise of saving Atlantis is enough. That and bring this beauty back to see me once you’ve completed the mission….if you survive that is.” The wildness from before, the insanity are gone without a trace. She winks in your direction and you smile slyly in return. Oh…

Baekhyun squawks in indignation. “Let’s go,” he grunts as he shoves you out of the room and out of the shop.

Once out in the open air again, you spin on him. “I’m gonna fuck your informant,” you tell him gleefully. He scoffs.

“She would destroy you.” He reaches out towards the objects still clutched to your chest when you jerk away from his reach. “What are you doing? Give them to me.”

“No, she gave them to me.” Chanyeol takes a step forward and you snap your eyes to him. He stops. “She handed this stuff to me, and I have the princess. It’s clear as day that this is a mission for me.” You glare at him and he glares back.

“Well I’m the one with the ship and crew. We blew yours to smithereens, remember?” You sneer at him.

“Yeah and now we’ve just got to fucking hope that the princess survived!” you hiss.

He’s right, but you’re also right. You start to feel hopelessness sinking in at being alone. No crew, no ship, no Suho.

“Captain?!” you hear. You blink in confusion and turn around to look for the source of the voice. There are lots of people around. This must be a popular port. You frown as you take in your surroundings for the first time.

“Wait is this…” you squint as the buildings gain familiarity. You gasp.

Arae. Oh Byun Baekhyun you dumb motherfucker.

“Captain!” you hear again. You find Junmyeon in the crowd, running towards you at full speed. His body collides with yours and you hug each other as if you’re the only thing keeping the other alive. You sag in his arms, the weight of relief pulling you down.

“I thought you all died,” you whimper into his ear.

He pulls away and takes you in. “No, most of us are fine. They just damaged the ship so that we couldn't follow you. The mainmast was broken in half but we’ve been able to fix it while we’ve been here.” He speaks so fast that he runs out of breath.

“Most?” you ask.

He looks down and takes off his hat. “We lost a few men to the destruction.”

You exhale heavily. You’ll have to hold a vigil for your lost men when you all return to sea. You suddenly remember Baekhyun and Chanyeol behind you when Junmyeon nudges you with his boot.

They watch your interaction with wide eyes. You can see the gears turning in Baekhyun’s head. You shove the map and compass in Junmyeon’s arms with a bit too much force. “Take these back to the ship and don’t stop until it’s locked safe in my chambers.” He looks down at the objects in confusion. You steal the sword off his side and flick your eyes in the direction he came.

“Okay,” he says worriedly. He makes off with your new treasures and you turn your blade on the men left with you.

“Looks like things have changed boys!”

“Sounds to me like you still need some men for your crew,” Baekhyun offers slowly.

“No thanks to you. You’re the reason they’re dead.” Your face twitches in anger.

“Me and a few of my men could be of use to you right now don't you think?” You furrow your eyebrows. “You need some men and I know that you aren’t going to just pick a few men off the streets here. That would spark the attention of other pirates and then you’d be not only trying to get to Atlantis, but fighting off every man who chased after you for the princess. You need experienced workers, and I’ve got them.”

You curse under your breath. He’s right. You hadn’t even thought that far ahead. People talk, and if the Storm Chaser is suddenly looking for men that puts you all in the middle of open season. They don’t have to know why you’re doing it or what you’re after, they’ll attack first and then figure out why after. You huff.

“Why should I trust you? What do you gain from this?”

“You shouldn’t trust me,” he admits. “And as for what I would gain…let’s say I’m doing this to appease my…curiosity,” he purrs. You grimace. “Also part of the reward money. Double what I would have gotten for the bounty.” He’s too bold.

“You’re the one with nothing to offer here. How are you trying to haggle me?” You scoff.

“Listen, I’m willing to work with you on this. I trust Irene’s words, and for some reason she thinks that you can get this job done.” He rolls his eye dramatically. “I’m willing to call a truce, and work together on this. Besides, me and my crewmen have our own debts to pay. We need this money okay? You can use me and my men however you need us.” You weigh his words and search for signs of dishonesty in his eye.

“How do I know you aren’t going to cross me and steal my ship and leave me marooned on an island?”

“You just refuse to let that go, huh?” he growls. You lift your sword to his throat. “It’s your ship, it’s your crew. I just want the money and to see the city okay? If any of my men or I give you any reason to doubt our commitment to this cause, you can kill us.” Chanyeol squawks at his side. “After this is completed…well then I can make no promises. We can go right back to trying to kill each other.”

You ponder it. “Okay, we’ve got a temporary truce.” You lower your sword. “I hate to admit it, but you are good at what you do. We could use you and a few men.” He perks at the praise. “Don’t get a big head,” you warn. “I wouldn’t need to use you all if you’d just left my crew the hell alone like I told you.”

“We didn’t even-”

“Uh Captain?” Chanyeol’s voice cuts off whatever Baekhyun was preparing to say. He motions in front of himself; both you and Baekhyun turn around to see where he is pointing behind you. A woman with long bright red hair and red lips to match is approaching your group. “An ex?” he asks Baekhyun as the angry woman stalks over. Her skirt barely brushes against the ground, raising dust.

“No,” Baekhyun says just as you say “Yes.” You swallow and plaster on a tense smile.

“Joy…” You hope you don’t sound as nervous to see her as you feel. Her hand comes across your face in a hard slap. You wince and cradle your burning skin. “Okay yeah I deserved that,” you admit.

“Bold of you to show your face here after leaving me high and dry a year ago,” she fumes.

You smile sheepishly. “Sorry. There was an emergency and I didn’t have time to leave a note-”

Her anger melts into curiosity at she finally takes in the men behind you. “Who’s your friend?” Her eyes slowly look Baekhyun from his head to his toes and back up once more. He puts on his best smile. You try your hardest not to retch.

“Not a friend,” you mutter and she walks pasts you and starts to flirt boldly with Baekhyun. Chanyeol looks at you uncomfortably as they share flirtatious touches and smiles. You shake your head slowly to yourself in aggravation. You don’t care that they’re flirting, but you do have a job to do, and your face hurts now. So you aren’t in a great mood. You manage to slide between the two of them as she laughs at something that he said that, objectively, wasn't very funny. “Joy, I’m really sorry again. I promise I’ll make it up to you the next time I’m here, but we,” you motion to the men behind you, “really have to get going. We’re already behind schedule.”

She pouts at you and then jabs a finger in your shoulder. “You’d better make it up to me,” she demands. You nod dumbly. She breaks out into one of her most beautiful smiles and kisses the corner of your lips. “I’ll see you around,” she looks behind you again and smirks at Baekhyun. “And hopefully, I’ll see you around too cutie.” With an air kiss in his direction she saunters off.

You exhale in relief. Baekhyun stands at your side with a cheesy grin. “I’m gonna fuck your ex.”

“No, she’s going to fuck you,” you correct.

“Potato, potato. This isn’t my first pegging, Captain,” he says.

Your breath catches. You fake gag to hide the heat you feel rising in your neck at the thought of Baekhyun being pegged by Joy. Or better yet the thought of you pegging him.

“Chanyeol, go bring Jongin, Sehun, and Seungri here to board the Storm Chaser.” His voice breaks you out of the thoughts you feel immediate shame for having. Get yourself together.

You shake your head. “No not Seungri. I hate that guy and I don’t trust him.”

Baekhyun nods slowly. “I don’t either. Always hated the guy,” he agrees. He shoves you in the arm, hard. “See, we’re getting along already.” He turns back to Chanyeol. “Bring Kyungsoo instead. Kill Seungri while you’re at it.” He waves his hand dismissively. You hold back a snort. Maybe working together for once won’t be so bad.

[snarkwrites]

02| trouble |greg sanders

Notes:

So apparently, I wasn’t done with these two? Yeah.. I thought I’d post another part to their whole /story./ as it were. So, here we are.. I am... honestly lowkey tempted to do this with my Tim Speedle x OC one shots too, because I had this whole ass backstory that I broke down and condensed greatly there that I could rewind and do, too...

So if anybody wants to see it (either of them, Tim or continuing this with Greg), lemme know I guess?

Either way.. Here we are. Part II. Yay! For those who missed part I it is ( here ) I’m off to go brainstorm more on this and create a soundtrack, hehe.

Pairing:

Greg Sanders x Sidle!OFC.

Warnings:

Uhhh... heavy lingering sexual tension. Mutual pining. A whole lotta cute awkward fluffy times.. Eventually, filth. This is non timeline compliant, btw... so if you’re strictly by the timeline posed in the series, I’m sorry? Kinda?

Tagging:

@chasingeverybreakingwave​ 

@twistnet​ 

[ faq | tag list doc | soundtrack ] 

                                                TWO. “What the hell are you watching?”

At the sound of Nick’s voice, Greg tried to avert his gaze. Tried to look anywhere but out the window and down into the pool area which happened to be right below the balcony of his apartment. He’d been completely distracted. Forgotten all about Nick still being at his place..

He stepped away from the window, turning his entire body away from it so that his back was facing it.

Nick chuckled and stepped over to the window, peering down.

“Well, I know it’s not the blonde.” Nick mused aloud, fixing a teasing gaze on his friend as he did so. 

“What the hell do you mean you know it’s not the blonde?” Greg’s brow raised at Nick’s assumption. Even though it hadn’t been the blonde, he hadn’t even realized there was even a blonde down at the pool until Nick mentioned her just then, he wondered what automatically made Nick rule out the blonde.

Nick chuckled. “You have a type, Greggo.”

“I do not have a type.” Greg argued.

Nick eyed him and after a second or two, he shrugged. Then with a smirk, he went on. “I can tell you exactly which girl you were starin at so hard your eyes were about to pop right outta your skull though.”

Greg rolled his eyes in annoyance, folding his arms over his chest.

“Fine. Go for it.”

“The leggy brunette in the black Ouija board bikini with the top untied and the lime green earbuds in. She was on the red beach towel, layin on her stomach... I think she was reading a horror novel and eating a green apple. Had herself a little garter tattoo… Am I right?”

Greg’s mouth opened and closed quickly because Nick had him dead to rights and he didn’t feel like arguing. “How the hell did you know? And why the hell were you staring so hard anyway, man?”

“She’s cute. Not my type at all, but cute.” Nick was peering out the window of Greg’s apartment now, probably watching the blonde. When Greg asked him the question, he chuckled and spun around, holding his co-worker’s gaze.

“ Because I know you. I know you well enough to know that you’re gonna go for the dark haired girl, every single time.” Nick shrugged. Greg eyed him, waiting on further elaboration. Which Nick gave, a second later.

“You were checkin her out Monday morning too when I dropped you off after work. When she was jogging?”

“I was not.” Greg said it quickly. Defensively. Entirely too quickly and defensively and he knew almost immediately that Nick didn’t buy that for a single second.

“You were, Greggo. Don’t even bother denyin’ it, I pretty much caught you. Both times, buddy.”

The sound of Greg’s apartment door being knocked on had both men sharing a look. “Were you expecting somebody, Greggo?”

“No..” Greg eyed the door, walking over to it and unlatching the locks, peering out the crack in the door when he opened it.

Belle leaned in the doorway lazily, a sheepish look on her face. Cheeks tinted pale pink and hints of a little bit of a sunburn starting to show. “I,uh… Well shit, this is lovely.” she stammered after a few seconds of the two staring at one another again, her hands dragging through her hair.

“What’s up?” Greg opened the door, letting Belle into his apartment and Nick eyed the two, chuckling to himself as he walked to the door and cleared his throat. “I’m goin back to my place, man. Same time tomorrow?”

“Yeah. My car will be out of the shop Friday, I think.” Greg waved him off and the door closed, leaving him alone in his living room with Belle.

His eyes wanted to roam but he didn’t dare. He cleared his throat and tried to swallow down the lump that had formed in it over the space of the minute or two since he’d opened the door to find her standing outside.

“What’s up?” he eyed her in concern.

“I went down to the pool to swim a few laps and tan… And I may or may not have forgotten the key to my sister’s place… She told me if I managed to lose my key somehow or get locked out, you had their other spare?” Belle gazed up at him hopefully, shuffling bare feet against the living room floor.

“Oh shit.” Greg chuckled. “Yeah, they gave me a spare when they got the place and realized I lived across from them. Let me go try to find it.”

He wandered down the hall and into his bedroom, locating where he’d sat the key on top of his dresser. Pocketing that, he called out to her, “How is it so far?”

She wandered down the hall, leaning in the doorway of his room. Biting her lip as she realized that he was taking off his button up shirt. She only barely managed to tear her eyes off of broad shoulders before he turned around to face her.

“It’s peaceful? It’s a lot more peaceful than New Orleans was.” Belle answered, their eyes locking on each other all over again. Greg went to step out of his bedroom and this put the two of them body to body for a second or two and he barely managed to bite back the groan that wanted to come at the way she felt somewhat pressed against him like she was right now.

He found his eyes drifting down and settling on her lips. 

She dragged her hand through her hair and his eyes drifted upward, watching the movement. Biting his lip as he did so before remembering the key she’d come to get. He put it into her hand, curling her hand closed around it and maybe he didn’t want to let go. Maybe he held on just a second or two longer. She gave a soft laugh and stepped away, following him back up the hall as he started back towards his living room, falling down onto the couch.

“Hey, if you’re not doing anything.. Nevermind. You’re a graveyard shifter like Sara and Gil.. I need to get goin’ and let you get your sleep…” Belle started, stepping towards his front door. Greg called out, “No, what were you going to ask?”

“Well, I’m not the greatest cook or anything.. But I was going to ask if you wanted to come over? Maybe grab some food with me?”

She shuffled her feet, leaning her back against his door as she gazed at him. Greg got caught up in staring at her and almost forgot that she’d asked a question, finally managing to answer a few seconds later, “Actually, I’d like that…”

“Sweet.. I was gonna throw something together and supposedly, it’ll be ready in an hour?”

“Supposedly?” Greg questioned, smiling at her as their eyes met again at last. “Yeah.. I’m covering my own ass because it’s like I said. I’m not the best cook.. And it may well end in the fire department having to come by.” Belle gave him that little troublemaker smirk as she shrugged and he chuckled, nodding.

“I’ll be over in a few minutes. I’m gonna go grab a shower.” 

She smiled at him and nodded, giving him the thumbs up as she closed the door to his apartment behind her.

Greg let out several long and shaky breaths and rose from the couch, heading to take his shower.

XXX

I’m surprised I heard the door being knocked on over the sound of The Artic Monkeys blasting through my sister and Gil’s apartment, just to drive out the heavy and almost oppressive silence.

But as soon as I did, I bit my lip, staring at the door. It probably wasn’t a good idea to do this as I was attempting to cut up vegetables for the stir fry I was going to try to make for Greg and I to eat. I managed to nick my finger and, swearing under my breath, I grabbed one of the paper towels next to the stove, holding it against my finger as I called out to Greg, “Just a second.”

I managed to get the finger situation under control and I slunk over, opening the door and stepping out of the way so Greg could step in.

He eyed my paper towel wrapped finger and I bit my lip, giving a soft laugh and shrugging. “It’s like I said. I can’t actually cook that well. And apparently, kitchen knives hate me.”

“Let me see it.” he was reaching for my hand and to my surprise, before I could stop myself, I was letting him take my hand in his. He unwrapped the paper towel and eyed the very small wound carefully. I spoke up. “It’ll be fine. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.”

“Yeah, but it’s still bleeding a little. Did you at least clean it out?”

I shook my head. Apparently, the running theme here is that every single time I’m around Greg Sanders, my mouth and brain are going to cease all function. I wanted to smack myself in the back of the head for it because it wasn’t me at all.

“Yeah, you need to clean that out.” Greg spoke up again, catching my attention. I nodded. Found myself distracted by his eyes and then his mouth… The strong jawline.

,, Christ, you are ridiculous. Get it together, Belle.” I admonished myself, ,, First you’re cooking and you know not the first fucking thing about cooking beyond ramen and barbecue on a grill.. Or frozen meals. What next, huh?” 

I stepped away and slunk towards the bathroom down the hall, finding the bandaids and an alcohol pad.

“Fuck.” I hissed as soon as I’d gotten the alcohol pad out of it’s wrapper and pressed it against the pad of my finger. Greg leaned in the doorway, dragging his hand over his hair. “It smells good. The food, I meant..”

“Thank you.” I glanced up at him, struggling with getting the band-aid around the end of my finger without getting it too tight or having it stick to itself. He stepped into my sister’s bathroom and took my hand in his, biting his lip as he fixed his gaze on the finger and the band-aid, wrapping it around securely before glancing back up at me.

“That should be good.”

The fact that he had to let go of my hand had me pouting a little, then fuming at myself about that internally. I finally managed to bring myself to pull my hand away and slunk up the hallway, into the kitchen. Stopping by my docked phone to change the song from Girls Just Wanna Have Fun to Need You Tonight, dancing over to the stove. Making Greg laugh at me from the doorway.

I stopped mid wiggle and stuck my tongue at him. “What’s so funny, huh? I happen to think INXS fucks.”

Greg shrugged as he stepped into the kitchen. Closer to me. I gulped, staring up at him. Not entirely sure what to say all of a sudden and definitely not sure what to do with my hands. “I mean, you’re not wrong.” he was staring right back down at me. One of us stepped closer and behind me, the shrill cry of the smoke alarm and the smell of my food burning just a little had me biting the inside of my cheek and swearing, pouting as I stepped away abruptly and made my way over to the stove to turn it off and see just how bad the damage to our food was.

“Well fuck.” I whined, turning back. Finding myself close to him all over again. Dangerously close.

Brown eyes seemed to stare straight into my soul before finally breaking away, nodding towards the wok filled with the burnt remains of what I’d been trying to cook.

,, the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach my mom said… explain this fiasco, mom…” I gave a soft laugh and shook my head at the thought as it came and I sighed. I didn’t want him to leave.

Him leaving meant that I’d be in this apartment alone again, for one thing. For another, maybe there was just… something about him. A magnetic pull.

The harder I tried to fight it, which I had at first, the harder it was to fight.

“So, uh… do you know anywhere that’s open? I’ll pay.” I offered quickly. Mentally kicking myself because it almost felt clingy.. I hated that I couldn’t control myself more than anything right now. Especially after all that I’d gone through before my arrival in Las Vegas. That alone should have taught me a huge lesson.

But here I went again.

Greg chuckled, rubbing his chin in thought.

“I do have food at my place. And I can throw something together.” he said it and immediately did the same as I had when I’d asked if there were anywhere to go. Tensing slightly, almost as if he expected me to say no. “Forget it, it’s late.. That was probably dumb to ask..” he trailed off after a second or two, but I shook my head no, giving a smile.

“Actually, I’d like that. I love my sister and Gil but this place is a little… creepy… at night. Maybe it’s because it’s so quiet and I’m not used to that yet.”

“It’s not so bad once you get used to it.” he gave me that lazy grin and raked his hand over his hair. “If you want to come over, Belle… I wouldn’t mind at all. I never actually go to sleep when I get in for an hour or two anyway.”

“Oh, I want to.” I replied, slipping on my favorite boots, grabbing the key to my sister’s place and following him out into the hallway, pausing to lock the door. I turned around and found myself kind of pressed against him in the doorway. “Ready when you are.” I smiled, my eyes getting lost in his all over again…

[thelordstears]

I present, more fick fack fookin’ writing. Enjoy you gremlins

"I wish my mind wasn't an abuser. But here I am allowing abuse of self. My mind is a den of wolves, tearing into every good memory I ever had, making a feast out of misery, how could I ever be whole when the world's broken me down to dust?” - Pamela Northutt

“ You wouldn't believe the things I've seen, the hell I've been through, you would say I stole it straight from a fictitious novel, but no, reality is often darker then fiction ever could be.” - Pamela Northutt

“ I'm nothing but barebones and thoughts of self harm, I'd walk into a den of lions if it meant I could find peace. The lions could tear into me, and still it'd be better than what my thoughts do to me. Because maybe, finally I'd be able to rest.” - Pamela Northutt

“ I don't need a metaphor to explain this pain, but it seems it's all people understand these days. You could say, "I'm hurting, and I don't know how to fix it." And yet people wouldn't believe you, they say you're crying wolf, you have every reason to be happy, so be happy.” - Pamela Northutt

"The truth stings as a bullet wound would. Because often, it's what'll kill a man. Ya know, I heard of this plant, once, the Gympie-Gympie, it's sting is so bad, that it leads horses to leap off of cliffsides, now the only thing that has that affect on humanity, is the truth.” - Ewan Hanstammer

“ I've watched men pull the trigger because they learned the truth, they learned their wives were having affairs, or a family secret that lead them down a rabbit hole, but they were never Alice, and this was never Wonderland, it was simply reality, and isn't that what makes it oh so frightening?” - Ewan Hanstammer

“ All it takes to unravel a life is a single bullet, and all it takes to kill a man is a single word.” - Ewan Hanstammer

“ Man kind is doomed to swallow lies, because they just know the truth is just as lethal as the electric chair.” - Ewan Hanstammer

“ I'd plead to the Heavens, but all that ever got me was a coupl'a thoughts from my own damn skull.” - Joey Broker

“ They say it's all apart of God's plan, then what is the end goal of all this pain? Is it supposed to make me stronger? Cause all I feel is weakness trickling through my damn veins.” - Joey Broker

“ If I was given a gun, and was told to shoot the man who undid me, I'd cock my pistol and go forth into the unknown with the intent of pulling the trigger twice. Once against his skull, once against mine.” - Joey Broker

"My heart bares as many tragedies as the night owns stars.” - Connie Averfollow

“ All I can do is lay here and remember, by God do I wish I could forget them but I can't, by God I fucking can't.” - Connie Averfollow

“ I suppose I had Rosita for a wonderful twenty three years, but these fifteen years without her is what hurts.” - Connie Averfollow

"I'll say sorry for all I've done, if only it would change a damn thing." - Connie Averfollow

"I am missing, because who you knew is just another portrait slapped onto a carton of milk and forgotten the next day.” - Harry Downsworth

“ I gave the devil her dance, twirled underneath the flames of my childhood innocence, and now here I am helpless and left for dead in my own damn skin.” - Harry Downsworth

“ I'm a haunted memory of what's forgotten by the world, but always remembered by me.” - Harry Downsworth

“ Where once the sun shone bright and I could see every color my eyes could perceive, now I see the world in black and white. Because I suppose I'm the absence of light, because all I can feel is darkness.” - Harry Downsworth

"My heart is ruled by a blood thirsty wolf whom prowls underneath the moon and asks only one question. How doth I hunt in a world where hunters are condemned?” - Oskirrith Boncoat

“ I find the world works in strange and mysterious ways, one can kill to survive, and yet find damnation, but another man can kill to protect his family, his country, and be called honorable. There's no in-between.” - Oskirrith Boncoat

“ I bare bloodstained fangs and howl at the crimson moon, because that's all a wolf can do, really. He can deny his instincts, his inner nature, but all he'll do is starve.” - Oskirrith Boncoat

“ This world was made for those with ill intentions and unholy desires. I'll send you to your God howling, but I'll go to mine bloodstained.” - Oskirrith Boncoat

"Can't claim you're fighting for peace when you load your rifle with death. But that's all the world ever does, forces us into impossible situations and expects us to choose.” - Santos Valos

“ I've got my scars on this battered heart of mine, I hold them close, because they're what keeps me going. I won't go down without a fight, if I'm to go down, it'll be spitting my blood and baring my fangs. If I'm to die, it's to protect my damn sister.” - Santos Valos

"I'm a bloodstained lullaby flyin' on crimson wings. All I got left these days, is the thought'a revenge, and I ask da question, does that make me cruel or broken?” - Adelaide Debbens

“ He was me guidin' light, 'e gave me the world with the smile 'e'd give me, and now dat I don't 'ave 'im, I don't have the world, mate. I have nothin' but me damn gun and a sin on me fuckin' mind.” - Adelaide Debbens

“ 'E had no reason ta kill my love, but I 'ave plenty'a damn reason ta kill him.” - Adelaide Debbens

“ I don't need a gun ta take back what's mine, just a dagger and me damn wit.” - Adelaide Debbens

"These days, being yourself is a damnable offense.” - Charlie Holyman

“ I could hold onto my faith in God, but is that the crucifix I carry on this scarred back of mine? I'm whipped and bloody from this world's abuse, been through things no woman should have to see and tried to hold onto this faith I got, but holding onto something that's already lost is a dangerous game. It's just like playing Russian Roulette with a fully loaded gun, you're doomed to lose.” - Charlie Holyman

“ You're the forbidden fruit in the garden of Eden and still I would take you. It might be a sin to love that woman, but I've lived a life of it and I imagine one more sin doesn't change my destination.” - Charlie Holyman

“ I could run from all this pain, but it'll always catch up to me. No matter what way I put it, I'm doomed to this sorrow, because it's a piece of me. Perhaps I'm bad natured or just looking for a way to cope, but I'm sorry. Cause I suppose losing oneself is the human condition, and I'm coughing up myself." - Charlie Holyman

"The world shoved a blade in my hands and told me to fight when I was only a child. And so I went to war, fought in a quaint little ghost town filled with secrets and unheard prayers, I suppose when the Lord can't hear you scream, all you can do is go hoarse.” - Eliskira Waters

“ I brandish my blade with pride, I've bared the markings of battle since I was twelve. I speak a foreign language of violence, my accent is a tangy iron, and my vowels are the clashing of metal.” - Eliskira Waters

"The sirens sing a bloodshot lullaby, I've followed them time after time, because when the one you love's life is on the line, you'd steer your ship into jagged rocks and capsize your own boat. And so I have drowned for her, not in the sense that I am dead, just in the sense that I'm not the same woman she married.” - Dove Patchens

“ I'm surrounded by love, but I fear if my darkest secrets tore their way out of my throat, they would choke on the darkness I keep inside of me.” - Dove Patchens

“ I couldn't possibly be my namesake, my father named me Dove, because he believed I would fly free. But here I am, in a little birdcage, believing this is what it's like to be free. As a man once said, a bird born in captivity will think flight is a crime. But alas, alas, it's freedom, and the key is nothing but an illusion I can't reach. I'm a dove trapped in a cage of misery, believing it to be peace." - Dove Patchens

"Despite da daggers in me back and da scars on me 'eart, I stand tall through da bleedin' if only ta protect me damn family. I 'ave spent me whole life protectin' what I got, I dun't fink aboot wot I dun't 'ave, because dat'll only distract me from da present.” - Pearl Joy

“ I dun't knu wot happened ta 'im, but I can only 'ope 'e finds peace, in 'is mind, in 'is life, and hopefully death isn't da only cure ta 'is pain.” - Pearl Joy

“ Me family is da only reason I'm 'ere, dey love me, dey support me and I'll always brandish a spear and me fangs when push comes ta fookin' shove.” - Pearl Joy

"I've been ashes before. How could I ever remain the same after I burned in the fire of who I am? The way I howled and shrieked as I was damned rings in my mind, and perhaps, I should've stayed in the dark abyss.” - Eldridge Wolfmoon

“ Somedays I wish I was still dead because at least I didn't have to deal with life. By God, isn't it so much easier to be dead than alive? I was a floating nothing in an abyss, for I would always choose nothing, over something.” - Eldridge Wolfmoon

“ This world is wicked in nature, no wonder the roses have thorns and the berries are poisonous.” - Eldridge Wolfmoon

“ I fall asleep and see only flame, my death haunts me. I am my own ghost, haunting the halls of my own mind I am the fly amongst spiders and always wonder why it is I caught in the web. I'm standing stagnant, because I'm so stuck in the past, I can't live with my death, it was supposed to be the end, so why am I still here?” - Eldridge Wolfmoon

“ You may never right your wrongs, only accept them.” - Eldridge Wolfmoon

“ "'Eavy is da burden 'a my sins, but 'ere I lay, crushed by da damn weight.” - Arnold Schull

“ I've been a bloody rippa' since da age'a fifteen, covered in the blood of boys doomed ta early graves. I'm a bloodstained wolf, me claws covered in crimson and me 'eart a pitch black lagoon'a sins yet ta be committed.” - Arnold Schull

“ I don't want redemption, I don't want forgiveness nor love, nor anythin'a the damn sort. I just want some damn rest, mate. But 'ere I am, fightin' for me life and sinnin' as if there were no damn tomorrow. And if I continue on dis path, there won't be.” - Arnold Schull

“ I'm a broken commandment, God said thou shalt not kill, and so I killed the good man I were. God said thou shalt not steal and so I ripped me still beatin' heart from my chest and watched it drip the darkest shade'a black.” - Arnold Schull

“ I seek guidance, but alas I am given a candle with no flame, the wax already dripping down my fingers, and I must tread forward with no light to guide my way.” - Salvatore Broker

“ All my life I have read from the words of God, but it's often I ponder on if I read all the wrong words, perhaps I've always been in the Devil's trap and just never once knew of it. Do you think rats in mazes know they're an experiment? I would be no different, I could be chasing dead ends and think I'm free.” - Salvatore Broker

“ I spit what I believe to be the truth to those in the pews, not realizing all that came from my lips was venom.” - Salvatore Broker

“ I've been scarred, pushed down and made ta put down those I called brotha'. But I stand tall despite that, I can't let the past be a burden, I can't let the future be a tragedy.” - Alejandro Schull

“ My son 'as fallen far, but I think, if he only realized his heart was never black, just broken, he could get back up.” - Alejandro Schull

“ I'm a soldier, I've got me daggers on stand by, but my heart will never be cast aside so I may get something done. If I am to kill a man, I deserve ta feel the after affects.” - Alejandro Schull

"I am a prison warden watching over his own cell. It seems no matter how hard I try I can not escape this prison of myself, because a man who doesn't have hope can't escape a situation he put himself in.” - Christian Holden

“ I suppose I have to raise my pistol and fight, because this new world is a war even if my whole life's been a battlefield. So I'll raise a glass to the broken world, down my poison of choice and head right into battle.” - Christian Holden

"I'm a wayfaring stranger of my own heart and soul. Because nowadays, I don't even know myself.” - Andrea Maywill

“ How am I to hold onto my past when it's the very thing that breaks me down to tears?” - Andrea Maywill

“ Don't trust a survivor until you know what they had to do to become one. I wouldn't trust myself if I was a stranger, and isn't that the saddest thing, to not trust yourself?” - Andrea Maywill

“ I'd say I regret my actions, but I'm alive, aren't I? If I hadn't killed those men, I would be dead, my sister would be dead and my promise would be broken.” - Andrea Maywill

"Knowledge is a weapon. And so I use it as a bullet. I can make truths into lies and lies into truth, I am a man of many tricks, I'm a puppeteer cutting strings to marionettes that no longer hold any use to me. Life is invaluable when faced against the grand scheme of things, you're one cog in my catastrophic master plan. You're one piece on my board of pawns, everyone I hold power over is a Queen's Gambit. You could cry out "Stalemate! Stalemate!" But I'd watch you charge recklessly into battle and die for a cause you never once believed in.” - Remington Burlwitz

“ I have no care for who you are, just what you can do for me.” - Remington Burlwitz

“ Every cold case has one thing in common, someone knows the truth. Would you like me to know the truth of yours?” - Remington Burlwitz

“ I'm everything people warn you about, the boogeyman, the tall dark stranger your mother tells you to stray away from. I'm an urban legend come to life, beware the myth based in reality." - Remington Burlwitz

"They've always said night time is when the soul is at the most peace. I find this untrue, how else do you think monsters come to be?" - Remington Burlwitz

"I'm the ghost of Evergreen's Bay, where I go, cold shadows follow and death coils around the surrounding area like a creeper vine snaking up a mansion of former riches." - Remington Burlwitz

“ I've asked for forgiveness a thousand times, and I'll ask a thousand more, because perhaps one day, someone will hear my sorrowful tale and say, "You poor soul, you are forgiven for all you've done." - Joshua Schanahost

“ I've never been a devil, no one really is, we're all humans, you could come up with a hundred metaphors to describe the actions of people, but all it ever does is make a story out of murder.” - Joshua Schanahost

“ How could we ever be perfect if we never knew the definition?” - Joshua Schanahost

“ I am not the victim here, but I am not the one who should be blamed for this bloodshed. There's a snake in the garden and he's pitting us against each other, if only we could see the decisions of one man can lead to catastrophe.” - Joshua Schanahost

“ I got sins on my mind and revenge on my got damn agenda.” - Chase North

“ We all got a breakin' point, and life found mine.” - Chase North

“ I can tell you I'm a good man lookin' for a reason ta cling on, but I'm not. I'm just a bad hombre with a pistol and a death wish.” - Chase North

"Isn't it a strange feeling, to miss yourself? I've tried hard to find who I am, but all I find is the past, I suppose I'm just a memory, these days.” - Karrassa Diabaso

“ My scars shall never bleed golden, they'll never make me stronger.. they'll only ever break me down and force me to remember, I haven't lived, not truly.” - Karrassa Diabaso

“ I'm a cruel being, living off of the dying cries of other's, I've hunted people down in forests where they'd be buried, ripped into young women with a dagger and cruel intent, how could you possibly call me anything other than a wolf?” - Mason Miedan

“ Life is a cruel game of choices, and it just so happens we're all victims of it. There are no losers or winners, all we can do is play until our life flashes before our eyes.” - Mason Miedan

“ My father has always said life is a series of choices, and if I'm still alive I must've made all the right ones.” - Mason Miedan

“ My blood lust is unparalleled, some may compare me to Jack the Ripper or the Zodiac, but they're dead and buried, and I'm here. Isn't that what scares you?” - Mason Miedan

“ How am I ta march forward when all I do is look back?” - Weron Jameson

“ Bessie was everythin' I had, her smile lit up my world and made me forget 'bout all the pain and the scars engraved in my mind. But now, I'm gon' have ta get used to livin' without her.” - Weron Jameson

 “I see it in my nightmares, Saul's bloodstained bat and Bessie layin' on the ground, her heartbeat still.” - Weron Jameson

“ He thinks he can just bat us around like yarnballs, but he's gonna learn he's in a wolfs den and he's just a little kitten who's curiosity brought him too death's god damn gates.” - Weron Jameson

“ I got a bullet with Saul's name on it, and I'm sure he's got one with mine. But we'll just have ta see who draws quicker.” - Weron Jameson

"You can romanticize life all you want, in all it's bloodshed and tranquility. There's a certain beauty in the way nothing can come of peace if it wasn't fought for. Nothing can be if there was no violence, and I suppose I'm a fine example of that.” - Olympus Woods

“ I've altered many's state of self, twisted their perception of wrong and right and let them lose their minds. I'm a cruel deity, making experiments out of people. But this is for science, sacrifice is required.” - Olympus Woods

“ I've bound up Heaven's steps and found myself in God's throne, after all, I oppose even the simplest of rules. Time opposes all, but it doesn't oppose me.” - Olympus Woods

“ I'm a black rose in a garden of withered daisies and daffodils.” - Olympus Woods

“ I wish to wipe emotion from my slate, but thus far all I've done is clear other's shelves and arranged it with shiny new anger and soft spoken regrets.” - Olympus Woods

“ My wings are shaded black and my heart a shade even darker then the nebula. And so I stare into the abyss, and perhaps I stared too long, because I hath become death." - Olympus Woods

"When life's got you beat, take a deep breath and remember the worst days don't reflect your life, the best days are the ones you'll reminisce over when all seems lost.” - Chris Shaw

“ Love is the glue that holds people together, so in a world filled with hate, drown it out with the sound of your heart beating for another.” - Chris Shaw

“ You don't have to pull triggers and watch men die to be strong, all you have to do is get out of bed and take care of yourself.” - Chris Shaw

"Dese days I'm just a souvenir, a reminder dat good fings end, just a relic 'a Rome. Rome were conquered and burnt ta ash in one day, and I must ask da question, when will I be ash? All I do is fight fo' me life, but do I really got a purpose?” - McCannon Bowitsend

“ I'm followin' da paf' 'a a sinna', so me destination must be Hell. But isn't hell pain repeated ova' and ova' again? And 'ere I am, livin' a life'a pain and nuthin' else.” - McCannon Bowitsend

“ I 'ear the crowd chant me name, once upon a time dat would'a filled me wif' glee, because I'd just earned meself a spot in the championships. But now me name is a death omen ta all who hear it.” - McCannon Bowitsend

“ Uncle McCannon is comin' home, broken or not. I've broken a thousand bones, and I spose I'll break a thousand more. Because me heart beats for me family, and I can't just let em go.” - McCannon Bowitsend

“ I am beautiful with all my battle wounds and heartbreaks.” - Sherine Skidmore

“ I know people think God's abandoned us, but do you not think he weeps for our fates? Do you not think he furrows his brow as the Devil tempts thousands upon thousands of lost souls. There is no Messiah of a broken human race, because we are not broken we are survivors.” - Sherine Skidmore

"I can't find myself if I can't even meet me in the middle. I yearn for a day I can mediate with myself and come to terms with who I am, but all I ever was is a girl hiding from the spotlight.” - Hermione Vallwing

“ The stage rotted beneath me and I fell beneath the planks and boards, I climbed to the scenery and swung from the noose tied upon the painted sun. The crowd whoops and cheers for the girl who swung, because to them it's all part of the act.” - Hermione Vallwing

“ I wanna burn this theater down, get rid of these haunted memories, but all I hear is lights, camera! Action! And then my traumas play on repeat, and all I can do is stand behind the camera, watching as the horror unfolds in the screen that resides within my shattered mind.” - Hermione Vallwing

“ Death was never beautiful, and yet the poets wrote of such splendorous scenes and beautiful prose.” - Hermione Vallwing

"My memory is a blank state haze, I can think, but I don't remember. I suppose that's the tragedy of living.” - Pam Maywood

“ All I know is the name I found on a torn yellowed sheet of paper, Pam Maywood, the lost girl, traveling through her own mind finding nothing. I imagine I'm a ghost of my own mind, wandering the halls, trying to find more about this mysterious home I roam.” - Pam Maywood

“ If this is a Labyrinth, I fear the beast inside. Might he have bloodstained fangs and crimson claws? Will he be made up of sorrows I don't remember, or will she be in the mirror with a foggy mind and regret for something she doesn't remember?” - Pam Maywood

“ I see things, and hear whispers in my head, are they perhaps clues to this mystery? Are the things I see a glimpse into who I am? I've seen men fighting to the death that disappear the moment I reach them, I've heard howling on the wind and cackles from the sky. Is my past so demented that I'm only allowed snippets of it?” - Pam Maywood

“ People seem to forget even faked strength is strength, you don't gotta be strong, you just gotta act strong.” - Caldio Pastel

I've been shown the darker side of life, but I'll be damned if the credits roll.” - Caldio Pastel

“ You can't kill me, because I have the one thing you don't have, hope.” - Caldio Pastel

“ I met a beautiful woman who holds my heart, Hermione is strong, even if she doesn't think so. She's everything I ever imagined the woman I'd dance with would be, sometimes she's scared, and that's okay, the world is scary but I'm here for her whenever she needs me. Her traumas play in the screen of her mind on repeat, but whenever a nightmare strikes her down my arms are hers to crawl into.” - Caldio Pastel

“Here I am, fighting in a world that wants to kill me off and roll the credits without a second thought. But the audience claps and cheers for an encore, so I raise my fists and give it my all. Give me a standing ovation for all my efforts to live because I'm here to survive and you won't draw the curtains on me just yet." - Caldio Pastel

"If I had a dollar for everyone I've failed, I'd have thousands in my pockets." - Morston Framstein

"How sad, to be scared of your own thoughts." - Morston Framstein

"I'm a shadow of my father, these days." - Chloe Perwitz

"You can not poison a dream, you're only creating a nightmare." - Treydus Elron

"Your dreams are the world, and there's no limit to what you can do." - Treydus Elron

"I looked for guidance, but all I found was empty bullet casings." - Cormen

"You know. Through all this harsh pain I've been through, I've found even the snow can bring joy." - Ella Leopard

"The world never needed super heroes, just people willing to fight." - Mike Pennington

"My whole world crumbled before me, and all I could say, was goodbye." - Cora Eltivere

  "I stared death in the eye, and I'd say I won, but ain't I in the coffin 'a myself?" - Denzel Thievesmire

"The wolf does not cower from the sheep. So why do you stare me down with a pistol and expect me to quiver?" - Vivientos Hallows

 "I'm not much a man these days, just'a dog barking at his own tail wishing he could catch what he can never hold." - Cadencia Malrosa

"I am both the rabbit and the wolf, vying for somewhere to burrow, and yearning for bloodstained fang of the man who ruined me." - Wolfetta

"Time flows endlessly as a river, and unfortunately for you, so will your blood." - Morias Doorvensteil

"You know, the world is full of men who want to watch it burn. I suppose I have to be the blizzard that snuffs out the blaze." - Delaura Presha

"I can feel the shadows of my doubt creepin' up my skin." - Dusk Showtella

"I played whimsical tricks to amuse the crowds, and yet I fell victim to a trick of dark intent." - Medora Domeel

"I found as many monsters in the light as I did the dark." - Jerry Winstead

"Am I the vulture who picks from the bones of the dead or the one who hovers around death, and is a warning of things to come?" - Jeremy Vultures

"Seems trouble follows wherever I roam, either I'm death or very unlucky." - Franco Jonwitz

"I watched angels fall from the sky on burning wings and learned what's holy may become damned." - Demalliosa Vanberg

"Be the hero, they say, be the hero. Give me a reason, and I'll burn my cape before your eyes." - Caldwell Ramirez

"They say death before dishonor. So be honorable." - Caldwell Ramirez

"I always knew the dark, brother. It was only a matter of time before even the angler fish in the abyss of my soul's lights blinked out." - Caldwell Ramirez

"I wear a dress of shadows and own a heart the color of the nebula." - Clementine Ashburnum

"The future don't look to promising, guess all I have is hope." - Grifold Hangers

"I've been running from death for so long I'm afraid I became it." - Nathaniel Wessonlock

"I'd say my destination is Hell's gates, but ain't I already there?" - Cal Dunbar

"All it ever took ta make a good man wicked is a little bit of pressure. And I've cracked, sadly enough." - Cormelo Rivendell

"You have to fight for the future if you want to see it. Somedays it's tough, but you just gotta brave through it, after all, if you can survive your past, you can survive your future." - Don Bellzfort

"I've seen what it is war does to men, it makes the best of men wicked and the wickedest of men weep. War breaks all, it would seem, no matter the color'a your heart, it'll break ya." - Valkrane Pernotte

"In a world filled with shadows, one has to learn to become one to survive." - Fox Rivendell

"I've learned to fear everything, because most days it's my fear that keeps my heart beating. I can't be proud, because fear is what left other's hearts still." - Markalos Callenwoods

"I'm a walkin' tragedy, these days." - Julie Forkroad

"I'm up against the world, spose I gotta be a meteor to survive these days." - Garret Crane

"My brother's shadow swallows my light." - Ozzie Ramirez

"The Heavens and Hell are one in the same when faced with a man half Devil half God." - Lazarus Occult

"The world ain't never needed perfect, just doable." - Granville Van Steenburg

"Out of all the things you should hold onto, hold onto your heart the tightest. Because losing your heart will only result in the same cycle that caused yours to stop beating red." - Ted Axel

"The world won't break me down, I have my heart and hope. I suppose in a world filled with shadows, I have to be the light that swallows it." - Veronica Crowell

"I'm too old to cry these days, and too young to die. So what am I to do but run into the war we've waged with nothing but my sins on my tattered sleeve?" - Logan Orencia

"People say the world needs men willing to kill for a righteous cause. But I don't think the world needs killers, it needs fighters, because a soldier knows the word mercy, a killer does not." - Jolt Netz

"Can't find any peace of mind in a world that shows you chaos and chaos only. Suppose the only peace I have is the quiet after an explosion." - Arello Vendesto

"Da world shows ya wot it is ta die while yer still good and breathin'. Spose I can only eva' lower meself inta'a coffin'a me own fear." - Sheamus Soderstrom

"I'll keep runnin' down this path'a broken bones and spilt blood, cause the beast behind me is myself, and I spose I can never escape." - Finn Desandra

"I'm alone with my thoughts, plagued by the wicked touch of my past. I breathe in toxins, and I suppose I'm choking on my own doubts." - Keith Desandra 

"My heartbeat is cold, I fear. After all, the world froze and all I'm left with is ice to shovel into my soul." - Darwin Crocker

[im-not-a-satanist-i-swear]

How (Not) To Catch A Deer

Chapter 1: How Could Anyone Look At That Face And Be Okay?

Notes: This isn't exactly a slow burn, but it's not one of those 'Hey let's fuck, oh by the way, I don't know your name' ones either. The hardest part about this was probably choosing the chapter title, because I came up with a bunch and had trouble picking. If anyone's even reading this, I'll add the alternate titles I came up with in the notes at the end of this chapter, and lemme know which one you liked best. Check me out on Wattpad @ninjapickles49 Thanks, and enjoy.

Wade wasn't addicted.

That was the one thing he was sure of because, firstly, his healing factor prevented him from getting addicted to anything. And second, he would never let himself want something he couldn't have—

[Liar.]

—no matter what White said. It was unprofessional.

He wasn't addicted.

And yet, here he was, for some reason, on the subway for the millionth time, going somewhere he didn't need to go for the millionth time. Hiding his face in the shadow of his hood, trying not to bump into strangers for the millionth time. Attempting to swallow his anxiety and the creeping feeling of claustrophobia for the millionth time.

All so he could stand there and watch—

[Stalk, you mean.]

{Admire!}

—the figure on the other end of the subway car.

Wade had lost count of how many days or weeks it had been. It probably wasn't that many, but it seemed like he had been coming here forever. Getting on the subway every morning of every weekday, sitting or standing on the opposite end of where the object of his obsession always sat. Trying to stifle his slowly building panic as more and more people crowded on, headed to their jobs. Then came the moment of relief, the deep calming sigh Wade always released as soon as he was the familiar mop of hair and scuffed satchel. He remembered the first time he had seen that satchel and hair, unusually clearly.

Wade getting on the subway that day had been a complete random choice. He had realized—quite suddenly—that after all the time he'd spent in New York, he had never seen the Statue of Liberty. Not up close. It was a split-second decision to hop on a subway that went across the city; he didn't have any plans that day. And for once he thought it'd better to go in his civilian clothes.

He would draw less attention that way, melding into the crowd of people; almost like he was one of them.

[Almost.]

And it was less likely that he'd be attacked, threatened, or banned from the place that way. Some people didn't respond well to a large, loud man in a red leather suit and mask, even if he left most of his weapons at home.

So there he was, standing in the corner of the subway car, keeping his head down, face hidden under the hood except to glance around and make a mental note of the people getting on and off and how many there were.

White was lecturing him about being stupid while Yellow sang Crazy Train very off-key and the people around him were talking as they filed in from the station. Wade was inching away from people that got too close, beginning to think this was a bad idea without his suit, and a few seconds from bolting out the doors—Statue of Liberty be damned—when his gave happened to land on one of the people shuffling in and Wade's whole world stopped.

His panic fizzled out, the babble of voices around him fading to a distant hum. Even the boxes grew quiet as they tried to figure out what had captured his attention while Wade's eyes remained glued to the figure who had just sat down on the other end of the car.

Yellow just let out a small gasp. {Oh my god...}

White just sighed. [Oh no.]

Wade just stared. Holy fuck.

Shaggy brown hair—thoroughly ruffled on the top, like fingers were dragged through it a lot—hung down into chocolate-colored doe eyes that seemed almost too big for the narrow pale face. The cute upturned nose, red at the tip, the full lips, and sharp jawline only made it that much more stunning. And to top it all off, the beautiful eyes were framed by black glasses; the modern thick plastic kind that Wade didn't even know he liked that much until now.

{Guess we can add glasses to the kink list.}

The guy was...

{Absolutely fucking adorable?! A hipster Adonis?! Our future husband?!}

[Way out of your league, not to mention almost definitely straight,] White snorted.

That had wiped the breathless smile off of Wade's face. He knew, of course, the White was right. He already knew that; he didn't need to be reminded.

{Yeah, don't ruin this, White. We can dream!}

[That's all it is though: a dream. And when you're forced, eventually, to return to the real world, the reality of your situation will hurt more. Dreams are for children.]

Wade felt his mood dropping even as he continued to watch the gorgeous guy.

{Why do you have to be such an asshole all the time? Now he's sad again, and so am I!}

"I'm fine, Yellow," Wade muttered. "White's right anyway."

{No, he's not! Dreams are the only reason we're—well, you're alive. I think White lost his, along with his soul and sense of humor...}

[I never had a soul to begin with, you idiot. Neither of us have one; we're not even technically alive, so you have nothing to dream about.] White was obviously getting irritated; his comments  biting deeper.

{But Wade does,} Yellow insisted. {And our life kinda sucks anyway, so let him dream... for all of us.}

"Who are you and what have you done with Yellow?" Wade had just enough presence of mind to turn to the wall as he spoke, hiding his face and hopefully muffling his voice.

{What?}

"When did you get so deep?"

There was a low snicker. {Well, I have been stretching myself out—}

[And he's back,] White interrupted tiredly over the sound of Yellow cackling.

The sound of the subway slowing down brought Wade out of his thoughts with a jolt and he glanced at where the adorable stranger had been sitting, panicking when he realized he was no longer there. He scanned the small crowd of people leaving the car—using his height to his advantage—and breathed a sigh of relief when he caught sight of the guy.

He was hard to spot; he wasn't very tall—

{Size difference! One of my kinks!}

[Shut up. Don't encourage him.]

—and Wade strained to get a last glimpse of that face and those eyes, knowing he'd almost definitely never see the guy again. And when the doors slid shut behind the slim figure, Wade felt something drop in his chest as a foreign feeling curled through his body, warm and painful all at the same time. But he couldn't figure out if the emotion meant something was ending... or just beginning.

                                                        *   *   *

The rest of the day passed in a haze of faces and emotions, the boxes lecturing and encouraging over each other, getting louder and louder until Wade's head hurt.

He didn't go to see the Statue of Liberty. But that was the only place he was sure he didn't wind up in, because he spent the rest of the day wandering aimlessly through unfamiliar streets and neighborhoods, his mind a whirlwind. He didn't even know where all he went, hands in pockets, face hidden under his trusty hood as he tried to figure out how the hell a random—albeit very attractive—stranger, who hadn't even looked at or talked to him, had managed to get under his skin so fast.

By the time the sun was going down, he was no less confused, and was lucky to even find his way back to the subway station. If anything, he felt even more muddled, but now he just had a headache as well.

He got into the same car as last time, hating himself for even glancing hopefully at the seat the stranger had occupied as he made his way to the corner once more.

The next couple stops were spent staring into space, zoned out, muttering to White and Yellow, and clutching his head when they got really loud. And even though it was stupid—which White very helpfully reminded him of—he still paid attention when the subway stopped at the station the guy had gotten off at.

{Maybe he takes the same one home?} Yellow sounded hopeful.

[Even if he does, the chances of him getting on here the same time as we're here is very small. Look around; it's late. The mass majority of sheep went home hours ago. Either way, you're not gonna see—]

Yellow cut him off, letting out a squeal so loud and shrill, Wade had to resist the urge to double over or hit his head on something. {OMIGOD HE'S HERE.}

[Are you shitting me?]

Wade stared, shocked, as the beautiful stranger from that morning shuffled into the car, looking considerably more exhausted, but still just as gorgeous as Wade remember. Better, even.

{Did we just call a guy gorgeous and beautiful in the same sentence? That's gay,} Yellow giggled, sounding giddy.

[No, it's fucking stupid is what it is,] White snapped.

{Shut up, White! He's back and even you can't ruin the mood!}

White and Yellow started going at it once more, but Wade did his best to ignore them, fixing his attention on the guy. If this was all he could have, that was okay; it was all he deserved, but he was going to at least enjoy it. There were only a few other people in the car, and Wade shrunk into his corner a bit more, feeling exposed. If the stranger looked up, he'd see him.

But that didn't stop Wade from watching him the entire way back. He didn't even know why, but he couldn't seem to take his eyes off the guy.

And when the train stopped and Gorgeous Stranger Guy stood up, looking like he could drop on the spot, Wade felt a sense of dread wash over him. This was it, the last time he would ever see this random adorable person who somehow made his stomach feel weird and he hadn't even spoken to him. The doors slid closed, sealing his misery as he watched the slim figure leaving.

{But...} Yellow sounded thoughtful.

[There's a first time for everything, I guess,] White snarked. [Yellow's never thought before.]

{What if you could?} Yellow finished, ignoring White, sounding sly and tempting and way too fucking pleased with himself as Wade's heart leapt.

What if he could?

                                                 *   *   *

So here we are, back in the present, where Wade was spending—

[Wasting.]

—another day on the subway, just to watch the guy he had become so—

[Obsessed with.]

—interested in.

There was just something about him—not just his looks—that fascinated Wade.

He was always polite, giving up his seat if someone needed it, and apologizing to people if they bumped into him, or knocked one of the books that he always seemed to reading out of his hands. Wade had the very strong urge to take a swing at them, then make them apologize, but he never realistically, he couldn't. He just had to grit his teeth every time it happened and Adorable Stranger Guy just smiled and apologized.

But sometimes, when the guy thought he was alone in the crowd, unobserved and unnoticed, his polite mask would slip, a flicker of emotion crossing his face that he usually quickly stifled soon after. It happened mostly at night, when he was tired, and their were few people on the subway, all lost in their own worlds—except Wade, who wanted to do something every time he saw that emotion in the guy's eyes. Because he knew feeling better than any other, recognized it from the rare times he looked in the mirror without his mask; felt it nearly every second of every day.

It was loneliness.

And he knew how much it hurt; how it settled in your bones, tightened around your throat. Curled through your body, leaving a trail of ice in its wake until you felt like you'd never be warm again.

It was almost enough for Wade to go talk to the guy, but something—usually White—always seemed to stop him. Just because someone was lonely did not mean they needed Wade Wilson in their life.

[They'd be better off alone than with you.]

{Shut up, he's already brooding; you don't need to make it worse.}

And there were other things as well. Adorable Stranger Guy was always exhausted, even in the morning, leading Wade to believe this was not his only job. And he obviously wasn't very well off, if the neat but threadbare clothes, tattered Vans, and scuffed up satchel were anything to go by. And Wade was pretty sure in the first week or so of his subway rides, he'd already seen the full rotation of the guy's wardrobe.

The guy—

                                      *insert record scratch noise here*

{Okay, we can't just keep calling him 'the guy' or 'the stranger' or even 'Adorable Stranger Guy'. The readers will eventually get pissed if we don't come up with something better, and they'll leave!}

[Wade is such dumbass in this story, I don't doubt they'll leave anyway. Can you say 'BAD WRITING'?]

{Come on, White, help!}

[Shorty, Bedhead, Ragtag, Urchin, Andrew Garfield Wannabe...]

{OOH OOH I GOT ONE I GOT ONE! Okay, here we go.}

          *insert whatever the fuck the opposite of a record scratch sound is*

The guy—Wade had taken to calling him Bambi in his head, based on his eyes; he couldn't call him 'the guy' forever, that would be boring—

[Nice save, Yellow.]

—always seemed perpetually hungry, the signs also recognized by Wade who remembered the feeling all too well. He was tempted to just give the guy some food, or leave it on his chair or something, but he knew logically that wouldn't go over well. For one, he'd have to explain himself—meaning he'd have to talk to Bambi—and there'd be questions. And Wade didn't want him to think he was a charity case; he seemed like the type who would get offended by that. And Bambi didn't seem dangerously underweight; despite the small frame and narrow build, Wade caught glimpses of lean muscles and toned arms under the baggy clothes and oversized hoodies.

{He's still hungry though. Can we just take him home and feed him or something?}

[That's kidnapping.]

{Nothing we haven't done before,} Yellow muttered sulkily.

"Hey, hey, bastard pedophiles don't count," Wade muttered.

[The answer is still no. Why are we even still here?]

{Because WaAaaAAAdde's in looOOOoooOOve!} White giggled, his mood changing abruptly like it always did.

[Bullshit. This isn't love. This doesn't even qualify as a crush. It's not even anything remotely romantic. You're lonely and bored and looking for something to focus your attention and time on; to obsess over.]

{No, this is different...}

[No, it's not. That's my point. And I wouldn't expect you to be able to tell the difference even if there was one. You're so desperate for attention and affection that you've deluded yourself.]

Yellow didn't reply.

Wade wasn't sure if White's biting remarks were directed toward Yellow or himself, but it didn't matter; he was right either way. He sighed, glancing toward the quiet beauty with his nose in a book as usual, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Wade wondered absently what he was reading right then.

"You're probably right, White, but... just let me have this. Please."

White was silent for a long moment, before sighing heavily. [Go ahead. Waste your time pining after something you can never have. I can't stop you, but... I also sure as hell won't help you break your own heart. Not again.]

Wade didn't say anything else, fixing his eyes on Bambi once more. He wasn't sure whether to thank White or curse him, so he remained silent. All the way home.

                                                      *   *   *

[We can't keep this up forever.]

{Why the hell not? We don't have a life.}

[Wade, what are you going to do on the day he doesn't get on this subway?]

{Why would he stop?} Yellow sounded confused, and a little frightened by the idea.

[What if he moves? Gets a car? Quits his job? Life changes. People change. You're the only one who doesn't.]

"What happened to keeping your non-existent nose out of it?" Wade mumbled, watching as—for the millionth time—Bambi got on and plopped down, looking even worse for wear than usual.

[I said I wouldn't help you break your own heart.]

{Yeah, we remember; that was only like, nine paragraphs ago. So why are you back to being an ass?}

[I'm trying to save him—and you—from your own stupidity... again. This happens every time; it's a cycle. You—Wade—find someone, get obsessed, then rejected, then heartbroken, until you die enough times to finally move on. And it repeats. It's stupid, not to mention unhealthy.]

{But... what if this is where it stops?} Yellow sounded sickeningly hopeful.

[Yes—] White's every word dripped with sarcasm [—I'm sure this very attractive man who probably has a line of people throwing themselves at him—if he's not already in a relationship—will see your face and fall instantly in love with you... Grow up, Yellow.]

There was a very long silence filled with hurt and awkwardness that Wade did his best to ignore while he watched the people stream in—much more than usual—all on their way to their mundane jobs, where they got a mundane salary, and got to go home to their mundane suburban house and kiss their spouses and hug their kids...

Wade cut off that line of thought; it was too painful. Because as much as he wanted to pretend he didn't have a care in the world, and the thought of normal people and boring families made him ill... he secretly wanted it more than anything in the world. And the realization he could never have it, no matter how many lifetimes he lived, never hurt any less.

[We can't keep doing this, Wade,] White said finally, his tone gentler. [You said I was right. You know I'm right. This only ever ends one way.]

{No, don't listen to him! He has no heart—}

[This needs to be the last day. You can have this, but after today, it needs to be done.]

Wade heard a shocked gasp, and he honestly wasn't sure if it was him or Yellow.

"Why?" he whispered. "We—we're not hurting anyone."

[You're hurting yourself, and Yellow, by continuing this.]

{Ya know what?!} Yellow bellowed suddenly, causing Wade to flinch. {Screw you, White! You never shut up until you ruin everything and he does exactly what you want! I never to get to decide anything! So, if today's our last day, we're doing it my way!}

[What did you have in mind?] White asked dryly, not sounding as if he cared much.

{Go sit next to him.} Yellow sounded triumphant.

"What?" Wade froze, anxiety creeping through him at just the thought. He glanced over at the empty seat next to Bambi, who was reading, as usual.

{This is the last time we're ever going to see him,} Yellow said mournfully, {and you don't even know his real name. You're gonna regret it forever if you never get the chance to talk to him.}

"No, I don't... I can't..."

{GO SIT NEXT TO HIM OR I SWEAR I WILL SING BABY SHARK ON REPEAT FOR THE NEXT MONTH!}

[Oh... god no. Wade, just do it. I will not listen to that song ever again.]

"Have you guys lost your minds?" Wade hissed, looking the other way quickly as several people glanced his way.

{I'll do it, I swear on... chimichangas and tacos... and katanas!}

[Wade, if it comes down to it, I'm going to make you kill us until I can finally die and be rid of you or until he stops. Just do it, for fuck's sake; you're never gonna see the guy again.]

{Do it!}

[Do it.]

Well, fuck.

The boxes very rarely ever agreed on anything, and the few times they did, that meant it was important enough and Wade needed to listen. If they ever agreed against him, it meant he was wrong. If they ever had the same advice or answer, Wade always listened.

He was so used to doing it, the next thing he knew, he was crossing the subway car on shaky legs, closer and closer to the beautiful Bambi until—it felt like years, decades later—he sank into the seat next to the guy.

Once he got there, he came very quickly to the conclusion that White and Yellow were absolute idiots and what did he just do? He couldn't leave now, if Bambi noticed, he'd think Wade was being rude. And besides, it'd attract more attention to leave the seat for the corner now.

So, breathing shallow and heart beating faster than normal, he turned his head slowly under the hood, until he could just peek at Bambi. And he wasn't sure if the breath he released was one of relief or vague irritation when he saw the earbuds in Bambi's ears.

{Are you kidding me?! We came all this ass way—and he has earbuds in?}

[This is good. Now we don't have to try to make conversation, and he may not even notice your face, Wade.]

Wade's social anxiety and loneliness warred inside him as he took quick peeks at Bambi, until he wasn't sure if he wanted to yank the guy's earbuds out and introduce himself, or get off at the next station just to be able to get away from the crowds and people so he could calm down.

[I vote for the latter. This is getting ridiculous.]

{It's your last chance to talk to him!}

"What am I gonna do, tap him on the shoulder just to say hello? Earbuds are the universal 'leave me alone' sign," Wade murmured, barely audible even to himself.

[Not to mention probably traumatizing him when he sees your face.]

{It's not bad today. Less Deadpool suit means more good skin days.}

[Yay. So we've gone from open sores to just regular mangled-looking avocado skin. Such an improvement.]

{Maybe... he won't mind? Bambi seems like the type of person who wouldn't care about—}

[Now you're really grasping. How could anyone look at that face and be okay? It doesn't matter if he's a literal angel; you have the face of a demon. You have a face not even a mother could love.]

{You said... you said you'd let us have this.} Yellow's voice was small.

[Well, this is why you're a comedy relief character who doesn't make any important choices. Wade, either talk to him or leave. But you'd better make up your mind soon; his stop's coming.]

That jerked Wade out of his head and he glanced up to see the subway just starting to slow down.

Fuck.

{TALK TO HIM!}

[It's too late now.]

Wade sunk lower in his seat, misery already beginning to seep through him as he waited for Bambi to stand up and join the crowd waiting for the doors to open.

[Like sheep.]

When a minute had passed and Bambi still hadn't moved, Wade turned his head a tiny bit to glance at him.

{Awww...}

The guy still had his book open, but he was slumped forward slightly, eyes gradually drifting shut as his fingers started to loosen around the book.

[He's going to miss his stop.]

{Now you have an excuse!}

[Whatever gets us out of  here quicker.]

{Just poke him or nudge him or something! Anyone would do it!}

"What if he finds it weird I know where he gets off?"

[You're on here every day; you don't have to lie about that. And he has no idea he's the one you're stalking, so just tell him you're observant.]

{Hurry up, the subway stopped!}

[I refuse to listen to Baby Shark; just do it.]

Wade reached over hesitantly, breath caught in his throat. His fingers hovered for a moment, trembling, before he took a deep breath and shook the guy very gently—although you wouldn't have known it by Bambi's reaction.

Brown eyes snapped open as he jumped in his seat, breathing hard as his gaze darted around, finally settling on Wade, who was frozen, arm still outstretched, heart racing. Wade kept his head down, hidden in the shadow of his hood, hoping it'd be enough.

He could feel Bambi staring at him, confused but expectant.

"Sorry, but isn't this your stop?" Wade asked in a low voice, hating how rough his voice sounded. He cleared his throat quietly, daring to glance up as the guy looked around, at the people starting to file slowly out.

"Uh, yeah, it is, actually. Wow, thanks... how'd you know?"

{Don't mess this up.} Yellow sounded ecstatic, but nervous.

"I'm... I'm on here pretty much every day. I just payed attention..." Wade trailed off.

"Oh yeah, I think I've seen you on here before, once or twice."

{Omigod HE NOTICED US}

"Thank you so much though, seriously; I would have completely missed it." Bambi stood up. There as a short silence which made Wade think for a moment he had left. Then a hand appeared in front of his face, startling him into looking up.

Bambi was right in front of him, and as Wade tilted his head up, he felt the light hit his face.

Shit.

He was about to duck back into hiding but stopped, surprised beyond words when he realized Bambi was still smiling gratefully, arm outstretched towards him. His bright gaze flickered briefly across Wade's face, probably watching the shifting scars, but if he was disgusted, he didn't show it. Wade, stunned by his reaction—or lack thereof—found himself reaching for and shaking the slender hand with long delicate, but chilly fingers.

"I'm Peter," Bambi said softly, his eyes glowing softly, like melting chocolate. He was still looking at Wade like Wade was a completely normal person and not a walking disaster, and he didn't know what to think.

"Wade," he heard himself breathe out, still captivated by that face, too shocked to do anything but stare when Bam—Peter shouldered his beat up satchel and smiled that beautiful soft smile again. "Thanks again; it was nice to meet you. Guess I'll see you around, Wade."

With that, he was gone, leaving Wade—and the boxes—reeling.

White recovered first. [What the fuck.]

{That was actually... omigod, my heart's racing.}

"You don't have one," Wade replied absently, even as he reached up to feel his own thundering heartbeat.

[Okay... that was weird.] White sounded like he was trying to keep the surprise out of his voice. [But Wade, remember, we had a deal.]

{Even you can't ruin this, White. The Adonis talked to us and didn't even throw up or anything.}

"And now I know his name," Wade added, still feeling stunned. The adorable stranger on the subway, Bambi, who had actually talked to him and looked at him and didn't recoil from his face or skin... was Peter. It fit doe-eyes perfectly.

He smiled to himself, tuning out the beginning of White's lecture as best he could.

Peter.

Notes: I'm kinda proud of the title, but I was afraid nobody would get it, so I'm gonna explain it.  So White tells Wade his face is hideous and Wade thinks Peter has the most beautiful face, so the title could mean good or bad... it could be White talking to Wade or Wade talking about Peter. I just liked how it would work either way. But if nobody else got it, then sorry. And I'm also a little worried because the title sounds like it's to a super angsty story and I haven't gotten that far yet. Okay, I'll stop talking now; here are the alternate titles:

Bambi (Then the next chapter would be Peter, and the one after that would be Spider-Man)

How Many Times Can I Say 'Subway' In This Chapter?

Stalking a Deer

How (Not) To Catch a Deer

White's a DICK (who let Yellow title this one?!)            (I really liked this one too tbh)

[dontlikedarkness]

scary love, part two

richie didn't move from his bed, hitting the snooze button on the alarm with a groan. there was no way he would be going to school. heartbreak, a wicked hangover, and school were a dangerous combination.

his parents were m.i.a. again, so he had the house to himself - and luckily, his dad never paid much attention to his alcohol stash. the bastard wouldn't notice that an entire bottle of vodka had gone missing.

that, or he just didn't care.

richie cradled his head in his hands, the pounding headache only amplifying the pain he had been trying to forget. it fucking hurt, it did, and he hated himself for what he had done.

in the end, though, he had saved himself so much pain. he'd end up falling head over heels for his best friend and then he'd go and fuck it up just like always. except this time, he'd be losing the love of his life and his best friend, all in one package.

he doubted stan would forgive him, but at least this way, he hadn't let them fall in love. he'd spared them both so much pain.

a sudden, violent knocking sounded at the door, and richie buried his head under his pillow. maybe if he waited long enough, whoever it was would go away. the noise stopped for a moment, and he thought that maybe he'd won.

the sound of pebbles striking his window caused him to throw his pillow in frustration. he stood up and marched angrily to the window, running a hand through his messy curls. he thrust open the window and glared out at the person standing there.

"the fuck do you want, bev? shouldn't you be in school?"

she crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. "i could ask you the same question, rich. now move over, i'm coming in."

the screen that should've been covering the window was already tossed carelessly to the ground, evidence of the many, many times richie had used the opening as a means to sneak out.

he stood there stubbornly, and bev rolled her eyes, merely pushing past him as she climbed through the window.

"rich, you smell like vodka."

he threw his arms in the air, clearly angry. "you think i hadn't noticed? there's a jackhammer in my skull, too, so if you could kindly shut up, it would be appreciated."

bev rolled her eyes again. "are you going to tell me what the fuck is going on or not?"

"i told stan we wouldn't work out, okay? i broke it off. and it fucking hurts." richie sat down on the bed and ran a hand through his hair. "it hurts like fucking hell, bev." he looked up at her, his eyes brimming with tears. "what do i do?"

she sat on the bed beside him, pulling him into a tight hug and letting him rest his head on her shoulder. "why," she said, after a moment. it was more of a statement than a question, and richie knew what it meant.

"i dunno, bev. he's my best friend. he was my best friend. i don't want to end up hurting him. this way, i don't fuck it up later and hurt him even more, you know?"

bev pulled away from him, looking him dead in the eyes. "richie tozier, you're an idiot. he loves you. nothing you could've done would have hurt him more than what you did. and not wanting to hurt him? pretty sure you love him too, believe it or not."

"fuck off, bev."

"you have to fix this."

"i know."

she shook her head, standing up once more. "i'm going to school. i'll be in time to make second period. if you haven't talked to him by the time i get here, i'll march you over there myself." she paused, halfway out the window before she spoke again. "he's at his house, by the way. something about being sick."

richie put on a confident grin, though it was easy to see just how strained it was. "bye, bev," he called, closing the window behind her.

he pulled a shirt on and slid his feet into a pair of sandals, deciding he wanted to fix things sooner, rather than later, meaning he had no time to make himself look presentable. he ran a hand through his hair, grabbed his keys, and was in the car within a minute or two.

he kept the radio off the entire drive there, concentrating on the road and on what he would say to stan. he knew nothing could make things right, at least not immediately, but he had to find some way to explain it all to stan.

richie took slow, careful steps up to the entryway, his nerves hitting him in waves as he walked. he had barely raised a hand to the door when it swung open, stan glowering at him from a few paces away.

richie froze. god, stan looked beautiful, even in this disheveled, sleepy state. his golden curls were a mess on his head and he rubbed one eye with the palm of his hand and his eyes were puffy and had dark rings around them. fuck, had he caused that? had he made stan cry?

in the entire time richie had known him, stan had cried a total of three times (that he knew of). the first was on his tenth birthday, when he'd fallen off of richie's skateboard and tumbled headfirst into a tree. he'd needed stitches and his arm was in a cast for weeks afterwards. the second time was when they were fourteen and their first ever midterms were coming up and stan had stressed himself out to the point of a panic attack. the third time was when they were fifteen and richie had finally had the courage to tell stan what his father did to him. they'd laid there and cried together, stan holding richie tightly in his arms and whispering that everything would be okay.

"what do you want."

stan's voice was low, and angry. maybe that's why the crack in the middle and the waver in resolve on his face hurt richie so much.

richie smiled hopefully. "can i come in?"

"no," stan murmured, moving to close the door.

"i deserved that. stan, please," he whispered, grabbing the door frame so that it was impossible for stan to shut it.

stan glared at him, crossing his arms but staying silent.

"stan, i'm so sorry... i know that's not enough but i owe you an apology. i was an idiot, and a jerk, and i let my fear of hurting you take control. truth is, i was afraid. i've always had commitment issues - you know that. i was afraid i'd ruin things. i was afraid i'd hurt you, and so i thought it would be best to stay away. that way, i couldn't hurt you." he paused, lifting his gaze to look at stan. "i hurt you already by leaving. i'm here to make it better. stan, i - i love you." there were tears in his eyes now, and he turned away from stan to wipe them off his cheeks.

"richie -"

"you don't have to forgive me, stan. i just needed to tell you."

stan pulled richie into a hug, sniffling gently into his shoulder.

"i don't forgive you. not yet. but you're my best friend, richie, and i love you too, much as it hurts me. i think if we work on this, we can get there."

richie smiled into stan's shoulder, shaking with sobs. he took a step back, still holding him, but just far enough that he could look him in the eyes. "will you be my boyfriend, staniel?"

"yes, 'chee. i'll be your boyfriend."

they smiled at each other, and hugged again, before heading inside for a cup of coffee. everything would be alright, it seemed.

[deluxedolans]

How would meeting Clara’s boyfriend (when she’s somewhat older like in her teens) go for Ethan and y/n , I could see Ethan being so stubborn and scaring the boy obviously protective of his special girl and y/n trying to ease up the tension and being nice to the boy to make up for how hard Ethan’s being towards him😩

hi sweetpea!! 💙first of all, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING THIS IN!!! i love that anyone wants to talk about a character that i creates and it warms my fuckin heart🥺 also, i know this is old so hopefully you’re still around :))) i had to flesh it out a little bit because i’ve never concepted clara grace as a teenager really. i turned this into a concept/blurb?? if that makes any sense! also, i’m sorry i can’t do the read more feature because i’m currently on mobile 🤦🏻‍♀️ I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THO AND HOPE YOU HAVE THE BEST NIGHT.

• okay, first of all, contrary to popular belief, clara is super naive and always sees the good in people. she doesn’t believe that anyone has bad intentions really and that’s a major flaw of hers in addition to her stubbornness. both her optimism combined with her hardheaded personality frequently lead to heartbreak.

• a lot of the boys she has crushes on are players but clara thinks they’re all just really nice and misunderstood.

• ethan does not react well clara grace dating in the first place, but he becomes even more resistant when she sees the fuckboys she’s interested in. ever since clara “hung out with” hunter mckinnon (ethan is the coach for the HS lax team and knew hunter was a dick—he rode the bench and still talked like he was the king shit) and he “was at a dentist appointment” for several hours when he was supposed to be going to the movies with clara ethan‘s protectiveness goes into overdrive. ethan doesn’t think he had ever been more furious when he sees her crying over it.

• therefore, after that incident ethan becomes more protective of clara grace than ever; every dude on the team who even looks at his daughter for a second too long is costing the team suicides.

• ethan doesn’t trust anyone clara brings home, especially with how innocent she is. like i said before, clara grace assumes the best in people and that combined with her stubbornness is a tough combo, especially since she usually insists on finding out people’s true intentions herself.

• clara gets in trouble a lot but it’s because she has such a good heart that she truly wants to go above and beyond for everyone in her life/things she cares about and she will not take no for an answer.

• clara grace is just so passionately caring and sweet to everyone, so she goes for the bad boys ethan is baffled.

• NOW FINALLY: the date. this is clara’s first official date and ethan wants the guy to come in the house but clara tries to brush it off as no big deal.

• “nope, i wanna see this guy’s face, peanut.”

“why? i can show you his instagram?”

“i need to see any and all identifying characteristics in case i need to post a wanted sign.”

“dad! c’mon, you’re so dramatic—he’s really nice, you don’t need to do that.”

“if he’s really nice he’ll come in here so i can get a good look at him.”

• clara tries to sneak out the front door when the kid texts that he’s here but ethan catches her and waves at him. ethan makes clara text him and ask him to come inside.

• “clara grace, you better have him come in here right now or you’re not going anywhere.”

“dad, please don’t call me that, no one calls me that anymore.”

“call you what?”

clara sighs, “you know... clara grace! it’s just clara now.”

ethan’s heart sinks because he loves her full name; thinks it’s the prettiest name in the world. big name for a big personality is what he’s always said. “but it’s your name...”, he tries to reason, his eyes wide as he puts his hands on his hips.

“c’mon dad, it’s embarrassing.”

ethan isn’t usually sensitive to what clara says when she’s being sassy, but this one hurts, mainly because he’s the one who named her. he can’t believe his little peanut is getting to be so big that she doesn’t like the name that he’s been calling her since before she even existed.

• naturally, when the dude gets there, ethan is giving him the third degree:

“what’s your name?”

“jake. s’nice to meet—.”

“what’s your last name?”

while jakes hand was originally extended, he immediately retracts it once he’s interrupted. “wellington.”

ethan nods, noting the last name in his head. “great,” he says flatly, eyes narrowing as he sizes him up. “where are you two going tonight?”

jake swallows the lump in his throat, shifting on his feet, “just to the movies and to get frozen yogurt.” clara is rolling her eyes behind her dad’s back, arms crossed over her chest.

“that’s all, right?” jake nods trying to say as little as possible. “no stopping in parking lots, no hanging out at overlooks, no ‘walks’ on the beach?” ethan’s tone is stern; he wants to make sure there is absolutely no suspicious behavior on this date. he doesn’t care if he’s humiliating clara, her safety will always be his number one priority.

“no, mr. dolan,” jake shifts on his feet, not even attempting to make eye contact with ethan.

“alright, you go to the movies, then to frozen yogurt and straight home. gotta be back by 10.”

clara’s mouth is of course falling open, “dad, you’re not serious.”

“oh, i am very serious.”

• the date goes fine, only clara never goes out with him again. jake texts clara and says that her dad was “too much.” while clara grace mopes around about it for a few days, she’s secretly glad because she knows all jake wellington wanted was a make-out and third base when she hasn’t even gotten her first kiss yet.

• over time, ethan feels guilty bc he hears that girls date guys like their dads and all clara grace does is crush on fuckboys.

•but y/n tells him it’s just clara being clara with her, “fix-it” tendencies.

• ethan and clara finally hash this out when clara goes to a bonfire with some of her friends. when she gets there she sees that there isn’t a sober person in sight. after hanging out for a few hours and watching her friends throw back shots, she contemplates texting her dad to come and get her.

• eventually, clara does text ethan saying “can you come get me please?” sending him her location. ethan is so amped she trusted him enough to text him when she prob was lowkey afraid that he’s immediately jumping off the couch, and swiping his keys off the table, leaving a confused danny in front of the TV.

• clara can’t wait for her dad to come get her; she wasn’t having fun and while she knew ethan wouldn’t be THRILLED she was surrounded by drinking, she knew he’d at least be happy she called him. also, clara is starting to get super upset at the fact that the boy she’s talking to, jack tierney is not only sloshed and trying to feel her up in front of everyone, his hand on her back sliding lower and lower, but he’s also seeing right through her act when she says she “doesn’t feel good” and says she’s gonna “have her dad come pick her up.”

he’s sneering, “god, you’re so fucking annoying, you’re literally incapable of not being uptight for one second, aren’t you?”

clara’s heart drops and a lump forms in her throat. “um, no, i just—i have a headache, s’all.” normally bubbly clara immediately retreats into herself, guards going up, and shyness evident.

“whatever, s’not worth the bullshit anyway. have fun with your dad,” he mocks, snickering as he swigs back the handle of absolut in his grip. clara’s friends all watch in dismay, their eyes wide as they watch the exchange. thankfully, ethan texts ‘here’ just as clara is about to let the tears fall, and she’s speed walking away from the bonfire as quickly as she can.

• as soon as clara hops in the car ethan is poking her with questions, trying to get intel on her night. the whole time shes choking back tears with her one word replies. the entire ride ethan is shifting in his seat with worry—usually clara chats her head off about her day, but she’s suddenly radio silence? he knows somethings up. when ethan pulls into the driveway he’s finally whispering to her, “peanut, whats wrong?”

• as soon as the word ‘peanut’ comes out of his mouth, her face just crumples because she’s so embarrassed, she’s immediately sobbing, “no boys will ever like me, dad. all i do is annoy them and embarrass myself.”

• she’s choking all this out into ethans chest and he’s just rubbing circles into her back, stunned that she’s this upset and she held it in. usually clara is very upfront with her emotions; very much a heart on her sleeve kind of girl, but the whole car ride she was practically silent.

• she tells him how she was uncomfortable because everyone was drunk and she wasn’t so she wanted to go home, but she told everyone she didn’t feel good as a cover.

• “all my girl friends were nice and said bye but jack was just—just so mean, dad.” ethan is immediately tensing at the name. clara had brought him over a few times to hang out and ethan immediately couldn’t stand him as soon as he saw him pull up with a juul in hand. clara tells her dad how jack was drunk and said she wasn’t worth the bullshit and that she was fucking annoying (she doesn’t even censor herself she’s so upset and she usually does, especially around her dad).

• as soon as he hears this, his grip gets immediately tighter because he’s FUMING at how cruel these kids are to his little girl. his jaw is clenching over how awful these boys are to her and he is dumbfounded at how his perfect daughter repeatedly gets treated like shit when there’s no one more perfect and sweet and kind.

• ethan is at a loss of words for a bit because he still can’t even believe that this is happening to her; she’s his first baby, his most sensitive baby, and he can’t help but feel like he failed her in a way by not being protective enough. even though, some would argue he was definitely mildly overbearing.

• “clara grace, baby, you’re the best girl i know. those boys don’t even know what they’re talking about; you’re so beautiful, and kind and—.”

“but all i do is annoy them, daddy, none of them like me. i’m gonna be alone forever,” her voice cracks at the last part. part of ethan wants to smile at how dramatic she’s being, but the other part of him wants to cry for her harsh criticisms of her personality. her bubbly innocence is what made her her. anyone who couldn’t stand that wasn’t worth shit in ethan’s book. she would always be his little girl and just as amazing as she was when he held her for the first time in that little pink blanket.

• “oh my pretty girl, you are far from annoying. honestly, every boy you’ve brought home hasn’t been able to hold a candle to you. i’m not just saying this because i’m your dad, i’m saying this because i know you; you’re too good for them. you’re so much better than you’ll ever know, and they don’t deserve someone as kind and sweet as you, okay? screw them, alright? you’re not annoying, and i don’t want you to listen to a goddamn word of what that kid said tonight. you listen to me: you are so smart, funny, caring, clever, sensitive and beautiful, so, so beautiful. screw that kid, he doesn’t deserve you, clara grace, doesn’t deserve a bit of you. ” ethan’s lips are pulled into a pout as he rambles, still in disbelief at the slander of the teenage boy.

• clara is still lightly sniffling in her dads arms. “is that an order?”

“yes, you have to listen to me. m’your dad.” ethan’s hands have taken to stroking her hair softly now.

“okay,” she sighs, lightly giggling into his chest as he rests his chin on top of her head.

of course, in typical ethan dramatics, he just can’t let it go, “now, can you stop crushing on such jerks? you’re breaking my heart here, peanut.”

[diningpageantry]

#COLLABORATION

Archive Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20327977/chapters/50986432

Chapter 2/6 of “How (Not) To Get a Boyfriend” (formerly known as “We Are Far Too Young and Clever”)

Word Count: 5646

Chapter Summary: Baz comes over for a collab with Penny, and first meetings ensue. Civility, hopefully, comes about.

~~~~~~~~~~

SIMON

“You did what?!”

“He’s not going to club you to death, Simon. Get over it.”

“No--I--but--”

“What’s the worst he could do? He’ll be a guest in our bloody house!”

“Not if I don’t invite him in. You know the threshold thing.”

BAZ

Honestly, it was quite sexy of me to accept Bunce’s invitation.

Especially given I get to piss off Snow in the process, and maybe squash any feelings that fester deep under my skin once I see him in person (with the hope that he’s lacking enough charm for it to be squashable). 

Figured that if Snow is just enough of an arsehole, or if he gets completely on my nerves in person, then all my feelings will vanish. Disappear into the air, and leave me with the ability to move on. Or, I suppose, realise I have a type and go on with finding someone who looks similar. And acts similar. Or just hope.

Shit, that’s all I’ve got. Hope.

I’m hoping he’ll be a prick. (I’m also hoping Bunce will meet me at the station, given she’d said she’d show me to their flat.)

(And I’m hoping, just a bit, that Snow will rear his head, too.)

(He doesn’t.)

I’m standing at the exit, watching cabs come and go while I wait, sunglasses over my face and hood laying flat over my head as I clack at my mobile. It isn’t too long before I feel a tap at my arm, then a round, spritely face swivels around and stares up to grin at me. She’s shorter than I’d expected her to be, but her outfit’s just as I anticipated. Schoolgirl-esque. Pleated skirt, knee high socks, and those clunky buckle shoes. The only thing truly distinguishable feature about her, giving hint that she’s an actual adult, is the slight look of extended exhaustion on her face.

“Basilton!” She chirps, extending the hand that isn’t holding a disposable coffee cup. “Christ, you’re easy to miss in a crowd.”

I make a show of shifting my bag, hiking it up further onto my shoulder before taking her palm warmly. “Yes well, intentions are intentions.”

Her hand squeezes around mine, the metal of her various, weighty rings pressing to my skin as she gives me a quick up and down shake before dropping it. “Yeah, I get that. A bit hard when you live here, though, you know?”

“From what I recall, yes.” She starts us away, leading down to the tube station. “Although, it’s been quite some time since I’d stayed in the city for longer than a few weeks. I’m sure it must get tiring to have a constant element of hiding.”

I watch as she weaves around a small standing crowd, chatting amongst themselves. She shrugs, head turning back to look at me and talking as if we’re completely alone. Which, I find, a crowded public place feels as though it’s as private as a lone kitchen. The least amount of privacy you can have is when with few people.

“Sort of. Not really, I suppose. Simon’s a bit more open than I am, though. He’ll talk to anybody at the shops, especially if they recognize him. I’ve tried to tell him to keep his wits about him, and if he’s not careful someone might throw him for something, but he’s a bit too careless with himself.” She swipes both of us through, leading me to the platform. “Easy to say that Simon can be a dumbass in his own respects.”

It’s hard not to visibly straighten up when Snow’s mentioned. Like an impulse. A need to seem more composed than he is, even when in the passing mention of him. Superiority complex of the damned, I suppose. “Is he at the flat? Snow, that is…” Of course I’m talking about Snow. Who else would I be talking about?!

We step onto the car after it pulls into the stop, wiggling around stuffed-in commuters as we stand by open rails. “Should be, yeah. At least, he was home when I’d left. He didn’t really want to come with, although--” she looks up at me through her brows pointedly “--think he has reasons to not want to greet you.”

Shit.

I turn my head, careful not to bump into anyone as I shift my bag again. So that’s that on Snow. Going to be a marvelous experience, then. “Yes, well, he does have a bit of a reason to avoid me.”

“What’s that really about, anyway?”

“I don’t understa—”

“If you don’t mind me getting nosey, which I will regardless if you mind or not, I’m just trying to figure out why two grown men sound like schoolkids in a slap fight.”

“Has Snow not given you reasoning?”

“Oh no, of course he has. Plenty of various reasonings. Just trying to figure out yours.”

I stop, worrying at my lip a bit as the car jostles. There’s a lot to say here. The honest answer. The even more honest answer. The honest answers that I wouldn’t even like to consider addressing.

Then there’s just the plain ones; the simple distractions. “It’s fun. And gets each of us a bit of popularity to have small feud. People give more attention to those who speak in spite to one another, rather than those who uplift.” I look down at her, and she’s staring up, brows both raised. “Humans are simple creatures who derive pleasure from pain. Schadenfreude.”

A slight pause, then she nods, seemingly satisfied. “Guess you’re right, then.” She sways with the car, keeping an eye on the stops. “Bit of a better answer than what he usually gives.”

“What does he usually give?”

She smirks, exhaling a quiet laugh. “Just says you’re a tit who deserves it.”

What do you know, I find myself smiling, too.

We exchange a funny little look, one that I can’t pinpoint beyond the thought that “We both know something”. 

The car screeches to a halt and Bunce hooks a hand around my elbow, dragging me out behind her. She’s got the proper boldness for this sort of stuff. Doesn’t seem afraid to shove others out of the way, and takes it upon herself to take me along for the ride. I don’t think I even hear a peep of “Excuse me”, but rather just “Move”.

I’m a bit dizzy from it just as we hit the pavement.

She lets go, exhaling and properly grinning as we walk along as if nothing happened. Which, now, reminds me to be scared of her.

“Don’t worry, we’re not far,” she hums, face whipping towards me as her ponytail bounces and hits the side of her head. I’d want to say her real life personality is cheerful, but given her recent display, I’m starting to believe it balances out where it matters.

“Wasn’t concerned, but thank you for the reassurance.”

She scrunches her nose, leading me down block after block until we get to a decent-seeming high rise apartment building. She leads me in, strolling to the lift and waiting until I’m against the back wall of it before hitting the close door button.

We stand in silence, her checking her mobile while I leave mine unattended.

I try my damndest to check it less often when in the process of traveling. It only seems to make the anxiety worse, needing to constantly know what’s going on, who’s doing what, and what I should be doing.

I’d much rather focus on the moment. Or distancing from it.

The room pings as it stops, the doors lagging behind on the open, then showing us out into the hall.

Bunce leads me to a door, getting out her keys and letting us into a room I immediately recognize, yet not in full. Not like this.

I know the little bits and pieces. The floor, the walls, the little island in front of the kitchen. I know the general setup, but not the overall vibe.

And I know the bloke on the couch, who’s perking his head up like a puppy dog the moment I walk in.

He leaps to his feet, wobbling slightly for balance as he opens his mouth, only to have nothing come out. He sort of gestures, then does a half-exposed teeth smile, dropping that, shaking his head and looking utterly confused by himself.

I think I witness the seven stages of grief right in front of me. And it’s painful to watch.

I sigh and extend a hand, hoping to break this pitiful moment (that makes my chest flutter for all the wrong reasons). “Basilton Pitch.”

He lifts his hand, mouth still open and in a hesitant pause before he clasps his palm around mine. “Simon Snow…”

We shake, and I hear Bunce snort beside me. “There. Don’t bite each other’s faces off, would you?” I hear her footsteps go down the hall, leaving the two of us alone. Stupid.

I’m fucked.

He drops my hand, awkwardly shifting and fixing his slightly twisted shirt.

He’s absolutely gorgeous in person. Barely a couple inches shorter than me, but a bit wider in stature. Strong shoulders, fit forearms, and his hair has a bit more gleam than what’s shown in videos. He’s sturdier in person. Fit. Handsome as hell, and has got half the charm to match it.

“So uh…” He says, a bit dumbly. “You’re in my flat.” Christ…

“Is that where I am? I’d hoped Bunce didn’t lead me to a mediaeval torture chamber. Glad to see she didn’t.” He doesn’t laugh, but I think that’s a half-smile, so it’s still in the clear.

He shifts, looking around and just trying to think up what to properly react with. “Do you… uh… are you… hm…” He stops. He does this a bit in streams, although it isn’t as prevalent in videos (controlled setting, perhaps?). He’s got a bit of a speech lag, and while I’d love to dig a knife further into that, I suppose the best time isn’t when I’m newly the guest in his flat (maybe later--maybe at dinner). “Hungry? Thirsty?”

There it is. “Tea, thanks.” I lower my bag, then set it down by the door before hanging my coat, standing a bit awkwardly by it and being unsure of where to go. So, instead, I just watch Snow mill about in his trackies (God fuck I’m too gay for this).

He stops into the kitchen, filling up their kettle and flicking it on as he roots around the shelves, drawing out mugs and tea bags.

“Earl grey, right?”

“Right--”

“Be-because that’s what it said online,” he says quickly, stumbling over his words in efforts to, what, redeem himself? Explain himself? “Not that I search you up. Of course I don’t search you up, but people say things and…” He trails and whips himself around, meeting my raised brow with an even dumber face than earlier.

“What?” I say, bitterly.

“Well… nothing.” He shakes his head. “No, nothing. Just… thought you’d claw at my heart, or something. Rip me apart on sight. Something based around our previous… you know…”

I make a point of clearing my throat, crossing my arms. “You’d assumed I wouldn’t be civil? In your own house?”

“No--well--yeah. Sort of, you know--”

“I’ll have you know I’m not a neanderthal. I have at least the common courtesy to be invited into a space and not cause a scene.” He flinches, then rolls his shoulders and sets them back as I finish. “I somewhat expect a host to do the same.”

At first, we’re both silent.

Then there’s a few distinct sounds. The sizzle of the kettle, the scratching of his nails against his hair (nervous). The sound of Bunce shuffling in a room down the hall, probably arranging her equipment.

I watch Snow bite at his cuticle, then deflate, arms dropping to his sides.

“Fuck… shit… look. Shit. I’m--” He looks at my feet, inhaling, then looking at my face. “Sorry I’m a prick. Didn’t… didn’t mean to just make it seem like that’s who I am. I’m not. I swear--”

“Interesting way to make an apology.”

He makes a sound vaguely in the mix between strangulation and frustration. “What I’m trying to say is that I want to make it up. Do something.”

“And what’s that?”

He shrugs, then looks around, hands dangling as he whips about and looks at every surface, seeming to calculate something, then, “How about we collab? You can stay late and we have a drink and do something for my channel.”

“You’re offering me a drink as an apology?” I laugh.

“No, well, yeah. Yes.” He does that sort of half-smile again, this time more deliberately. “Come on, please say yes? Or else my self esteem will shit itself while you and Penny film.”

“As much as I’d love to see that…”

“Please…”

“Alright,” I concede, waving a hand absently towards the living room. “Just, please, not something drenched in glitter. There’s only one time of the year that I’m willing to coat myself in it, and that’s Pride.”

“Yeah no, yeah, valid, yeah,” he stumbles, smiling more. “Can do.”

The kettle clicks off behind him, steam flowing out steadily. He perks up and whips around, going to prepare our mugs.

SIMON

Whatever the hell just came over me decided, brilliantly,  “Fuck this, I’m getting something mended for you”. So, I guess, now I’m fixing him a cuppa and trying to plan a collaboration for us to do tonight.

Fuck my life, I guess?

I try to steady my hands as I set up our mugs, handing his off just as Penny’s sweeping into the room and talking to him about the video.

They break and he goes off to change, taking his bag along into the bathroom (he has a wardrobe attire for his bloody appearances? Shit. I’m behind on the game).

I trail, like usual, and stand at the doorway, watching silently as she sits him where she wants him, lights hot on his face (suits his cheekbones and jawline, the bastard). He’s a natural at where he’s at--he’s got a whole wiggle and pose for a camera, getting into position to where he knows his angles, knows how he likes to be seen. Hair kept neat, shirt well tucked and straightened. I don’t quite know how, but he’s seemed to have grown slightly more threatening in the last few moments. Intense--unwaveringly strong. I gulp, clenching my jaw and moving to look away.

“So what have you thought of for titles?” Penny asks, fiddling with the Tripod. “Because I was thinking something along the lines of ‘Separation between label and self’.”

“Sounds well fitting.” He adjusts his blazer, sitting it open as right as he can get it. “Queerness does not make a man, but rather simply how he views another. That sort of spiel.”

“Exactly.”

They smile at one another, and I hang back further, unsure of what to bring to the conversation, if anything.

I stick around, though, sipping at my tea and watching the both of them set up and begin.

This is my usual spot--observing. Hanging around listening to the conversation’s ebb and flow into topics that somewhat go over my head at times, but I allow them to go past me. I’m content in spacing out and listening into a good talk while I try to understand, but never quite allow myself to think about.

It’s something that I let slip away, eventually trailing off to my crafts supplies to try to arrange a subject for tonight, whatever that may be.

BAZ

It’s a relief when Snow finally heads off, taking my attention to him away with it, but catch him phasing in and out of existence via the open door, passing by with armfuls of supplies. Thankfully, none of which seem to shimmer in the light.

Bunce doesn’t take too long. I’ve known she’s quite like me in work effort. Diligent. Hard-focused. Although, she’s definitely more stubborn than I, which makes the occasion restatement said through clenched teeth funnier than it should be (I don’t laugh, I never let myself truly laugh. You build a character, a defining feature, and mine just doesn’t happen to laugh). I stay cool, collected. Untouchable, by certain standards, with a leveled gaze and pin-straight back. 

We’re done within two hours, against a well-placed backdrop of soft purples and decorative, feminist-based pillows and paraphernalia. A cork wall of fan mail, a clean cut poster here, a hand-painted design there… warm. Welcoming.

I feel misplaced amongst it.

Still, I drag out my mobile for a quick finishing picture with her, just to appease whoever keeps tabs on my existence (I feel sorry for such handful).

Snow reappears as quickly as he was gone, crossing his arms at the doorway as we sit silent on our separate devices, tagging posts and setting captions—

“Oi, can’t you do posts later?” He complains, sounding halfheartedly whiny (Christ, is he always like this?)

“Shush,” Bunce replies snappily, a gentle inflection underneath her sharpness. “People to talk at, friends to talk to.”

“Likewise,” I hum. I’m lying. I’m scrolling through my Instagram feed.

Snow huffs, shifting in such a way that I strain to not look at him. Look at the shift in his shoulders, the roll of the fabric against the soft curve of his bicep. The exposed forearms, littered with spots… “I’m hungry,” he cuts in.

I snap back to reality, shooting my eyes up to meet his in a solid, cold stare. “Congratulations, Snow. This is your flat, after all.”

Bunce sighs beside me, heels of her hands digging into her thighs as she forces herself up, twisting around in a stretch accompanied by the soft exhausted yawn from the exertion of mental energy. “He’s saying he wants to go out,” she translates, seeming increasingly motherly.

I allow myself to smile now, raising a brow to the both of them. To Snow pouting. To Bunce grinning.

“I’m just saying I’m hungry,” he adds, letting Bunce brush past him out towards the hallway. He pushes up off the side, then goes to follow, leaving me to stand and do the same. “And it is about dinner time…”

Bunce is already grabbing her coat, and I take the note to pick up my own, sliding it over my shoulders as Snow perks up and disappears to his room briefly.

“Are you his watcher? Caretaker?” I quip, peering after him. “Doll maker of sorts?”

“Best friend is the easier answer here, but sometimes I feel like key master would also describe how it feels, on occasion. Like I have to restart him on occasion, or else he'll wind down.”

I smile, again. Key master. Clever. “Fair.”

He steps out in overworn jeans and a hoodie, looking slightly less crumpled than before (and I’m slightly relieved he’d retired the trackies, for now; don’t have much to worry about gawking over them). (Except those bloody jeans look fantastic over his thighs—)

“Well?” he grins. He seems to always be grinning, or starting to grin. “Are we off, then?”

Bunce smiles at him (Key master) and leads us out, shuffling us into the lift as leaving us in manageable silence.

This time, I take it as an opportunity to stare at my phone without feeling quite as overwhelmed, scrolling quickly through the notification stream coming from the recent update of Bunce and I’s picture with the announced collaboration.

Some comments asking for a London vlog. More comments about Snow. More comments tagging Snow as well. Eyes emojis. A few eggplants--there’s always eggplants--and then the usual “Excited!” ones.

I glance at Snow himself, and he’s staring down at his screen, unmoving.

He’s got his notification page pulled up as well, and he’s thumbing through the mentions. I take note of his bottom lip, being pulled and worried at with his top teeth as the rest of him remains emotionless. Less cold than I usually am, more unconcerned. Like nothing about it really bothers him.

I try not to pay any more attention to him the rest of the way down.

We pile off at the first floor, standing in the lobby for a brief second as Bunce types out something.

I wait, hands stuffed in pockets as I take in the area.

It’s nice. Not too nice, but nice. Decent. A good income’s worth…

“I was thinking about the South Indian place you liked three stops down, Si,” she says behind me, still sounding absorbed into her mobile. “They had that onion stuffed naan that you really liked.”

“I’m okay with whatever. Just hungry…”

“Baz?”

I whip around on my heel, stopping as I face her flat on. She smiles up at me cheesily, nose wrinkling. “Any suggestions?”

I pull a hand out to wave it, purely for effect. “I know a couple good places here and there, but nothing to recommend, so I’ll trust you.”

She nods, exhaling and peering at Snow again as he steps around, seeming a bit antsy. “Right. Three stops, then.”

He gives her an appreciative smile, taking hold of her elbow as we walk out.

I can’t help, for that moment, to feel jealous.

Not exactly of the contact--of Snow holding someone, or someone getting held by Snow, but rather the emotional warmth of it all. The closeness of someone to live with, someone to know you well enough to know what decisions are best for you. Friendship in a closer means, as compared to the quick text for drinks on weekends, and the occasional begrudging holiday party made only better by sneaking past overly stuffy family to get trashed in the pantry.

By what means does it take for such friendship? Are there intricate steps to take? A path destined for someone to care deep enough to know your patterns, to see you in such light?

I try to stop my line of thought, then try to think of who I have, but that falls depressingly short. I’ve got Fiona somehow at the top, which was sad enough to make me realise that I should not be thinking this hard on it. I, instead, stare ahead and keep walking. 

It’s a relatively quick ride to get there.

Bunce and Snow take it as an opportunity to chat amongst themselves about something menial, something like groceries and going to a mutual friend’s dinner party. Something or other. Something domestic.

I sit aside, staring out the dirtied windows, and wonder briefly where I lost all my friends in the process.

I try to cut the wallowing once we’re off the platform and back onto the street, walking a few blocks over and stepping into a warmly lit small side restaurant where the three of us are greeted and sat in seconds.

“So, how long are you staying?” Bunce asks, picking up a menu and flipping through it absently. I reach over, grabbing the last off the table as Snow seems to page right to where he wants.

“Two days,” I shrug. “I’ll be with my aunt uptown, although she’s out quite often going to gigs of some sort. Wouldn’t be shocked if she’s doing lines off the chest of some time-worn rocker--” Snow makes a near choking noise, and I ignore it “--so I’ll probably be alone, possibly going to this bar I’m fond of. They do a real classic drag show on Friday nights.”

“Really? Drag?” Bunce remarks, curiosity peaking as she glances between Snow and I excitedly. “I’ve been wanting to go to a proper show! Never quite had the time to really do proper research on the best places in town, since I’m usually running about classes...”

“If you’re free, I’d be open to dragging you along,” I offer, smiling my robotic greeting as a waiter swings across with a pitcher, filling our glasses with water and taking out drink orders.

Snow shifts, clearing his throat, but then promptly offering nothing to say. I raise my brow at him, but Bunce beats me to the chase.

“Would you like to join, Simon?”

He shrugs, then looks down. “Bit to crowded for me, but thanks.” Ah. Doesn’t like being left out.

I take it at my clue to be silent, looking over my menu and making my decision mentally as they chat back and forth over theirs.

I exhale quietly, looking out the window, then back at them.

I don’t know what to say. I’m shit at these things.

Always have been.

“He’s not talking to anyone--he’s hiding, Malcolm. You’ve got to do something about it! Acknowledge it, at least.”

“He’s a child, Fiona. Children shouldn’t talk about death like that.”

“He’s 9. He knows what happened—”

“Don’t. He’s just odd, that’s all.”

I bite my lip and stare at the tablecloth, rolling the fabric between my fingers where it falls onto my lap. It’s soft, and well embellished, and the texture shifts when—

“Baz?”

I look around. They’re waiting for me to order.

I share what I want quietly, handing over the menu as I exhale and go back to staring at the centrepiece. Both Bunce and Snow fall silent, making me feel a bit choked by the discomfort, so I sigh and try to flit about desperately for something to hold onto verbally.

“How’s schooling going?”

Bunce grins, and starts going on. And on and on.

And to my relief, it’s just her talking, and Snow and I staring and nodding, with him a bit less interested than I am (I’m sure he’s heard it all a million times).

I don’t quite know how to reach out to him yet. It feels awkward, and still strained, but not quite uncomfortable. Not tense, or completely overwhelmingly so, if it is there. Instead, it’s just… unsteady. Unsure. I’m not sure what to refer to, where to start. So… I look.

I steal glances his way, my throat catching in the slightest each time.

I get so strangled so quickly that I have to stop myself. Turn away and rest.

Smile at Bunce, nod along to what she’s saying…

Not let myself gawk too much at something I’ve wanted near me for far too long, or else the mystery fades away.

SIMON

Baz keeps staring at me, and I don’t know how to feel about it.

Okay wait, not… not exactly staring, but more like opportunistically taking a glance in my direction for longer that the usual split second that I’m used to.

What I’m getting at is that Baz is looking at me, and I can’t say I don’t like it.

I try not to meet his glaze, because I’m a bit afraid that’ll scare him away and make him more upset than I did earlier, because I think I’m starting to realise that he might not be a particularly bad guy. I mean, he surely isn’t some walk in the park, but I’d always figured that much. But he’s not bad. He’s… I don’t know. Human, to some extent.

He nods along to what Penny’s saying, giving her the occasional listening smile and the interested raise of his eyebrows.

I’d worried, and felt, for a minute there, that he wasn’t quite enjoying this. That he might’ve not felt like he was fitting in, but I think it just took a bit of guiding Penny to talk about something she cares about (for what might be hours of talking, but that’s fine) for him to finally relax.

So, I don’t mind him looking.

I think he just might need a minute to look, to maybe see me as a person too, then we can work through this. Whatever this is, I guess. (Never really wanted to dig too deep into what this is, and now definitely isn’t the time for me to start.)

Now’s the time for me to eat, for Penny to talk, and for him to listen.

Which is what we do, throughout the whole visit.

I stay silent, shoveling mouthful after mouthful down with a happy hum as Penny rambles, stopping to eat and try to breathe simultaneously. Baz sits there, picking at his meal with a patient look, and I can’t help but feel warm.

Like maybe, maybe, this is something that might last…

I smile. I stay silent. And I sit.

We’re out there soon enough, trudging down the street with a comfortable heaviness in my stomach and an arm comfortably draped over Penny’s shoulders, leaned against her and walking in happy silence. Baz stays on her other side, head high and steady as we slink back down into the station and wait for the next ride to come by.

They start chatting as we stand at the platform, and I tune them out in the process, thinking of what to make once we’re back.

Drinks drinks drinks… I shouldn’t anticipate that Baz likes specifically fruity drinks, but I like fruity drinks, secretly. They usually work a bit faster, and don’t make me feel sour like beer does, and don’t make me feel sloshy like straight liquor does, either.

I get warm and loose when I drink sweet stuff. Like I can smile on top of every cloud I’ve stared at, wondering how they would feel falling between my hands…

I look at Baz, and think he’d like to have quite the same.

So I stick with it, mentally, and stay silent on our way home.

I go ahead of them off the lift, letting us in and dropping my coat onto the sofa before heading right for the cart we keep everything on.

I hear them chat, and chat until they aren’t chatting anymore, and I turn to only see Baz standing in our living room, looking incredibly out of place while both melting into the scenery all at once. And I smile, waving an arm towards our furniture.

“Take a seat,” I offer. “I’m just making drinks for us.”

He hesitates, then swipes a hand over a cushion before resting down onto it. “Have a list of my options?” He jokes (at least, I think it’s a joke), attention seeming to sweep over our living room as his head turns to and from slowly.

“Nuh-uh.” I go to grab juice from the fridge. “I’m making something, and you’ll drink it, and I don’t care if you think it’s too sweet or frilly… I mean, unless you’re allergic, or something…” I’m pouring the mix into the shaker, suddenly starting to realise the mistakes in what I’m trying to say and sweeping through my words to correct them. “I mean… shit. Fuck. Just… yeah. I’m making something. Trust me.”

I can’t see his expression from here, so I just hope it’s good.

I pour our glasses then go to stand in front of him, offering it with an outstretched hand as I watch him flick his attention away from my set up of supplies, to my hand, then back to the disarray while taking the glass away.

I sit on the ground, despite all the other options available, just to be near what I’ve got for us. “I was thinking we could do these constellation jars,” I hum, glancing down at the set up. It isn’t too messy, and I printed out a sheet of constellations for us to pick from, too.

It’s just some sheets of thin metal, some sharpened wooden sticks with various thicknesses, two jars, chalk to plan with, and some battery tea lights to stick inside.

Simple. Easy. Clean.

Nothing too glittery, nothing that might be stereotypical… something he might like.

I go to smile at him, and I can’t read anything on his face.

I wonder if anyone can read him, ever.

I decide in this moment that one day, I want to be able to read him like a book. Cover to cover.

I’ve always been a bit shit at concentrating on books, and getting through is a pain in my arse, but I think… I think it’ll be different when I want to get it done.

So I’ve got to work at it, and smile some more.

He simply responds by looking down at his drink, and taking a good sip. I do the same, quickly downing about half before deciding to get up and go fumble about to try to find my camera.

By the time I get back, he’s emptied his glass, and is holding onto it like it might magically refill, so I grab the mixer and mostly top him off before pouring the little bit left into my own.

“Are you a lightweight?” I want to ask, but I figure that it’s better not now that I ask, but rather I should wait and see if the answer’s given to me.

I sip at my own drink while setting up, going to put the lights up and set the right angles. Arranging the space, cleaning up just a bit (okay, yes, I’m hanging my coat up, Penny) and getting the area ready for the two of us to work.

We’re both done with our glasses when I’m fully finished, and I wordlessly deposit those into the sink for someone to clean in the morning before starting the camera and plopping myself onto the floor space in front of it. I pat the ground, reassuringly grinning at Baz before he slowly sinks to the ground beside me, rolling his shoulders and exhaling as he’s scooting beside me and mumbling what sounds like curses about the arrangement.

I wrinkle my nose, smiling a bit. “What? It wouldn’t be a properly me video without being on ground!”

“I hate it,” he complains. “It does nothing for my back.”

“That sounds like a you problem,” I shrug, smiling wider before clearing my throat and turning to the camera. I inhale, take three seconds, then start. “Hey everyone! Welcome back to Simon’s Arts ‘N Crafts! Today, we have a special guest…”