#i can not wait for a god of the woods tv show whenever it's out. it was such a fantastic book and so silver-screen cinematic

[shadowignis]

Tainted - Chapter 1

Ignis

“And now to the police on the news of the mud-” The Tv shuts off as my mother starts to put down the remote. 

She starts to talk to my brother, a silent groan escaping my lips. “James, what have I told you about watching the news? Don’t do it. I don’t want to hear about those dreadful murders!” She exclaims and my brother just rolled his eyes. He and mother never really got along, not after Dad died…

James turns to look at her, “Mother, I am 18. Technically I am the man, and owner, of this house. Dad left the house to me, not you. I can do whatever the fuck I want, and you can’t do a single thing to stop me.”

‘Oh boy. Here comes the tell-tale argument. Again.’ I think before getting up to leave. They never notice me anymore… Well, not unless I have something they need. Or to cuss me out.  Nothing has been the same since they found out that I’m a Tainted. 

I start remembering that night as I walk into my room. The one night that made my life worse. The night that the doctors had been called, because of my eyes changing colors and my canines falling out… I snap out of my haze and look at the mirror. I feel disgusted with myself. I never would fit my mother’s standards for me… Just because of my eyes and my smile. I never fit in at school because I’m secluded and act differently than the other kids. I sit down in the chair and take out the brown colored eye contacts, showing my violet eyes. My mother would call me a freak whenever she would see my eyes… Well really those were the moments she would actually talk to me. I try smiling and show my long, sharp canines, just right for drinking blood. I then stop trying to smile. 

I hear my brother and mother now yelling at each other. I sigh and look down at my desk, before noticing something moving in my mirror. I look up to try to see what it was, only to be greeted with the sight of someone… Wait no, some being in the woods from my mirror. Tall, slender… faceless… I turned around, trying to catch a better glimpse of the creature through my window, but all I saw were the trees that lined the edge of the Dark Woods. I groan. “Fuck… Now I’m seeing things.” I mutter to myself. I run a hand through my hair, before the disorienting feeling of my senses suddenly becomes more heightened.

I stand up, only to feel my stomach cramp and pain shoot through my body. “Damn it. I need food. Soon.” I squeeze my eyes shut and then open them quickly as I hear the shouting stop.  I carefully listen to the house’s noises. I hear my brother and mother in their separate rooms, ruffling something around. I carefully stand up and move over to my bed. 

A couple minutes later, my mother leaves her room and leaves the house. I hear my brother leave his room and make his way to my room. He knew about my needs. He didn’t really notice me anymore but he still would on occasion. And well after the really bad fights before he’d leave for a week to calm down, Mother left for only a couple of days. I hear James knock on my door. “Ignis… Are you in there?” 

I sigh and carefully get up, “Yeah.”

He comes in. “Look. Nis… I need to go. I need to leave and I’m gonna be gone for longer than usual. I’m sorry.” 

I look at him. “No. Please don’t James. What am I going to eat, James? I don’t want to go out and kill people for their blood.” 

He groans and snaps at me, “Ignis. I am not just here for food-” 

I interrupted him, “Then for what else? You rarely talk to me, and when you do, it’s to tell me that you are leaving me in this goddamn house by myself again, that you are leaving and that I have to take care of that god damned witch that I have to call my mother, or you giving me permission to feed off you. That is all you ever talk to me about.” I flash my fangs at him and growl. “We used to be so close. Now you act like Dad.” I spit out, my anger getting the better of me before I pause, realizing what I just said. “James.. I-”

“Get out.” He spits out in return, his voice quiet, but his anger loud. “Get your shit and get out, Ignis.” He turns around and goes back to his room to grab his shit. “I better not see you here when I get back.” And with that, he walks out.

I hear him slam the door of the house and start his car up. His car leaves and immediately I get up and growl. I’ll deal with my hunger later. I start going around and start grabbing my clothes. I started thinking about where I could go. There were no safe places for the Tainted. I pause, looking out my window once more before being hit with a memory from just a couple years ago.

*********************************Flashback************************************

I run through the woods, trying to find a good hiding spot before looking up into the trees. I quickly pick one and climb up into one of them. I hear someone laughing. I smirk and wait patiently. Two boys, one my age and the other a little older, come into the area. Upon closer inspection, no one would be able to tell they were siblings but they yet they are. “Come on Nis. Come out. You know we shouldn’t be in here.” The older one yells out. 

I try my hardest not to giggle. The younger one looks at his brother like he’s stupid and rolls his eyes., “Of course she knows. That’s why she came in here, Liu. So no one can interrupt our game.” I can tell he is smiling just by the way he talks. 

Liu groans, running a hand through his blonde hair, his green eyes staring down at his brother. “Jeff! I was trying to get here to respond to me, you idiot.”

Jeff laughs and looks up into the trees before he finally spots me. “Flame. I found you.” 

I give an exasperated sigh but smile. “Okay.” I jump down, landing with no problem. I wrap my arms around both the boys’ shoulders. “So. Should we go back to society or should we stay here for a little?” I ask. 

I feel the boys tense a little. “Nis….” Jeff starts.

“We’re moving.” Liu finishes. 

I pause… “Moving?...” I mumbled out… and then it sunk in…. I let go of them, “No! Please don’t leave me.” I beg them, sadness filling my body as I get close to crying… 

They look at each other and then back at me. “Nis, we have to. You know what our parents say, goes.” Liu says. 

I sniffle a little and hug them, not letting them go. “Where are you guys moving to?” 

“Greenville apparently. Just a couple towns over.” Jeff says boredly. 

“Well I’ll come visit sometime.” I say sadly, though I try to smile, my fangs peeking through my lips. The boys smile as well as they know me fully smiling was rare. 

*******************************Flashback over**********************************

I frown at first. It had been a couple years since I last heard from the boys. Then I remember my promise. I smirk. “Here I come boys.” I say. I finish packing and go to my brother’s room. I grab a bat and a spray can. My brother could deal with the mess. 

[wh6res]

chase — renhyuck

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

tw bullying, violence, swearing, yandere themes, possessive themes, blood, weapons (a gun, a grenade), implied noncon, implied kidnapping, mentions of stalking

disc i dont condone this behavior

wc 5k

‏‏‎ ‎

29 hours before the annual purge

“hold her down—i said hold her down, idiot!”

putting everything into account, they saw you more like a glorified chew toy than an actual person. 

they ruined your life simultaneously and it's ironic, that despite being sworn rivals, it seems you were their neutral ground—after one has had their own fun, you’re passed on to the other person so they can deliver that final, shattering blow that weakens your resolve. 

it was meant to be that way because it had always been that way. you’re the unlucky loser that ignited the worse sides of both lee haechan and huang renjun. 

they’re like oil and water; they don’t mix but with you, they found a compromise. stealing your lunch money, trashing your homework, quickies in between lectures. all of these should’ve been enough to give them a good power trip. but they’ve developed a hunger so severe that these past instances are but mere crumbs that hardly satisfy their cravings. 

it was beyond exhausting, being caught in between two headstrong people that were unwilling to back down at any cost. their aggression and anger towards each other directly being channeled onto you as they shove and swing you around like some ragdoll. 

you weren’t a bunch of kids, you knew that. you don’t cry and sob and say that it’s unfair, you hold your chin high and walk up to the guidance counselor’s office to report them for bullying. but you never should’ve underestimated the power of money and their respective families’ broad network of connections. 

without a doubt, the empty promises for justice is what broke your heart the most. it breaks with every bruise, every tight grip, and every nasty name the people willingly turned a blind eye to. 

it’s sad but it was a reality you taught yourself to get used to—the meek mouse learning how to evade the cats hot on her trail. 

but you weren’t as lucky today. 

“i am holding her down.”

a pair of lips comes in contact with your neck. its feathery and light at first until its biting down to mark you with his teeth. not too strong to draw blood, but enough to dent the surface of the skin. 

haechan has an oral fixation. biting his lips. his nails. whenever you see him, he always has a lollipop on his mouth and if he doesn’t, he’s painting hickeys across your skin. you hated his oral fixation, especially when makeup and clothes proved useless to hide the marks he gives you. 

“why run?” renjun asks you, slipping his fingers underneath your skirt as he kneels. “you know you have nowhere to hide in the campus.”

haechan snorts. “or anywhere else.”

it’s always the same thing. you go to school. you sit in your first period for thirty minutes until one of them shows up. then the other boy probably felt a gut instinct that he’s missing out on the fun. last time, it was an empty classroom in the abandoned left wing. 

they like taking you there all the time, it was always dark, the blinds pulled and shut tight. not to mention it was incredibly dusty. but both male knew you’re afraid of the dark, exactly why it’s their favorite spot. but empty classrooms and supply closets are close seconds, too. 

“you’re so pathetic. useless—only know how to whine like a fucking pornstar,” he quickly comments, feeling you arch against him when renjun’s tongue comes in contact with the pearl between your legs. “my cumdump.”

you feel a sharp exhale against your lower lips. you shudder. renjun clicks his tongue in annoyance. “can you shut up? you’re making my dick soft with all that talking.”

but haechan had ignored him completely, blissfully ignorant of the petite boy’s frustrations as he angles your head up to crash his lips onto yours. when he slightly pulls away, still playfully nibbling your bottom lip, what he said next made your blood run cold. 

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎

6 hours before the annual purge

the price to pay for protection started rising again this year and you, much like your neighbors, are in a sense of turmoil. jamming the doors with cabinets and nailing your windows with wood is hardly enough to satisfy the gnawing feeling in your stomach. much less when you didn’t even have a weapon to wield other than a wooden bat and a cheap taser you bought on sale. 

“its not like anyone will be coming for you, right?” the little girl says, touching the randomest stuff in your apartment. her name was naeun and she never really liked pink and sparkles like most girls her age, maybe that’s why she took a liking to you. 

her mom works a 9 to 5 and her grandma stays with her on occasion. but the old lady loved to sleep, naeun said, so she gets the chance to slip out and come knocking on your door. you tried shooing her out of your apartment countless times but she’s stubborn. 

she reminds you of yourself. 

“well, i hope no one does.” you joked, putting on a turtleneck. 

naeun’s mom doesn't like you as much as it is, but if you yourself let naeun see the bruises on your skin? you’d hate yourself forever. “now, come on little missy, go back to your grandma. i need to head over to the bank to settle my protection fees.”

“but you just said no one is going to come for you anyway,” she whines stomping towards the door. “mom already settled ours yesterday becase grammy forced her to. mommy said it was just a waste of money because who’d bother to rob us anyway?”

a memory flashes in your head. two boys who’ve sandwiched you between them in the dark of a fucking supply closet at uni. wandering hands, labored whispers, curt giggles, one pair of lips trailing up your neck while the other up your inner thigh.

“needy kitty. i can’t wait for purge night.”

you needed that protection. that was no slip up because haechan never makes mistakes. if he wanted to make you feel like some animal on the run after catching a whiff of trouble then he sure is doing a good job. 

“hey! i think you just went someplace else there,” naeun says, nudging your side irritably to get your attention again. 

you try forcing out a chuckle but it doesn't work, still deeply peeved by a memory from last week replaying vividly in your mind. if they ever mean what they meant (which you know they do) then this is now more than just trying to get through the night—you have to survive, prepare, and pray neither of them finds you. 

“i think your grandma’s right in doing what she did, naeun. with humans, you’ll never know.”

and just like that naeun went silent, bid you goodbye, and disappeared behind the apartment door.

the bank was a quick walk from your apartment. you hardly broke much sweat and you even managed to stop by the grocery store to make some last-minute runs. the store’s nearly empty, deserted of any human being as the seconds slowly but surely ticked away. it was only when you walked past aisle seven did you pause, the hairs on your back standing as a slow chill crawled up your spine. 

you look over your shoulder. 

no one’s there. 

you swallow, quickly looking down your watch to check the time as you made your way to counter. 3 hours before the annual purge. you needed to get your ass moving. you just need to grab one more thing and you’ll best be on your way. 

you practically ran towards the dairy section and just as you spin around, strawberry ice cream pint in your hands, you jump as he appears before you in thin air and you drop whatever you’re holding. 

“such a skittish little kitten,” renjun clicks his tongue, bending down to retrieve the ice cream on the floor. “here you go.”

you couldn’t even stare at him in the eye. your hands shook but it wasn’t because of the cold desert. now you get it. it’s his eyes you felt on you earlier, ever intrusive and piercing as he watched you from afar. was he stalking you?

“i didn’t quite catch a thank you, kitty.”

how foolish of you to think he’ll let you duck away without at least speaking to him, hm?

“thank… thank you?”

renjun grins, satisfied with your stuttering as he raises a hand to ruffle your hair—he ignores how you flinched away from him—before walking away with one hand in his coat pocket, whistling an eerie tune that can haunt your nightmares way after purge night. 

“see you later, kitten.”

if it wasn’t the whistling that set you on edge or that clear promise of your doom—it’s the pack of zip ties and duct tape in his hands.‏‏‎ ‎

you were watching a rerun of your favorite morning reality tv when it cuts to the dreaded blue screen showing the flag of korea. 

this is not a test.

this is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the south korean government. 

weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the purge. all other weapons are restricted. 

commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. 

police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning until 7 am when the purge concludes. 

may god be with you all.

you’ll never get used to the blaring siren that echoes through the empty streets. you can feel the floor vibrating and it travels throughout your whole body as the dread starts sinking deep into your skin. 

you’ve already double checked all your windows and the front door. activated the security system provided by the bank. and you’ve also already charged your taser and have hammered down nails into your wooden bat. fine. if they wanted to scare and bully you into a panicked frenzy, it did its job but fuck no will you go down without a fight. 

you shut all the lights, the apartment basking in the moonlight glow brought by the translucent curtains as you make your way to your bedroom, nearest the emergency exit just in case they barge through your front door by force. 

at first, nothing happened. it was peaceful. tranquil. you can hear a pin drop with how quiet it was. both inside and outside. you were almost tempted to cover your mouth in case you were breathing too loud. 

it’s silent. until it wasn’t.

your phone rings. it’s there, vibrating on your desk and you make long strides until you’re face to face with a set of numbers on your screen. an unregistered contact. there’s a debate inside your head whether to answer it or not, fingers hovering between the red and green button… until it eventually lands on the green. 

you put it up to your ear, hands sweating as you wait with bated breath for the person on the other end to speak. 

“kitten?”

it’s renjun. you don’t answer. 

“i can hear you breathing, you know. i can’t wait to see you. we’ll have so much fun together. it’s sad that i have to share with that imbecile but better half of you than nothing of you, right?” he laughs and you feel a rush of anger surge through you. yet, you don’t bother to give him the satisfaction of a reply. 

“i can see you’re angry, little kitty. while it’s cute and hot… don’t be. turn that frown upside down for me, wouldn’t you?”

but the blinds are drawn he couldn’t have seen you—

“you’re never going to get me, you fucking bastard. i’m not scared of you,” you sure do hope he can’t hear the tremble in your voice. “whatever you plan on doing to me, you’ll fail.”

you walk back slowly, eyes darting everywhere to look for a camera they could’ve installed in your room. they have connections and the money to do it so you won’t put it past them. 

“oh, my stupid kitty. how can we fail when we already got a head start?” 

the floorboard behind you creaks and before you could turn around, someone slams your head against the desk. you hear a crack, whether it’s the screen of your laptop or your nose, you couldn’t tell. the person is agile and silent as he maneuvers you to the ground and seals your lips with duct tape. 

“after all,” haechan giggles. “you can’t lock out what’s already inside, kitten.”

your phone lands somewhere near your head. renjun has already dropped the call and the line goes silent. 

squirming, you glared at the person on top of you. is this how you’re gonna go? you can’t deny, even you yourself find this pathetic. the security alarms you bought, the nail-studded bat, your taser, everything was all for naught? just because you didn’t check under your bed to make sure no one was there?

how long was haechan waiting? when naeun was still here? when you went out to buy groceries? 

you thought it would be fear you’ll be feeling as you get caught but the emotion isn’t present at all. instead, it’s white hot anger that overrides your system and forces you to act without thinking—and it just fucking saved your life. 

haechan always saw you as a vulnerable, sad little human being who couldn’t do shit on her own. it’s easy to underestimate you and that’s his first mistake. 

the second is rather foolish—not tying your legs up first. it’s all too easy to slam your forehead against his before jerking your leg up to knee him in the balls. 

you can see the anger in his eyes clear as day as you made a run for it to the kitchen, having come up with another escape plan—because surely if you went down the emergency exit, haechan would’ve caught up easily with those long legs after he’s recovered from your assault. 

your nose was probably bleeding and your head is in the early stages of a full blown migraine, at least you were able to function enough to wobble your way towards the trash chute situated near the stove. you had cursed that chute the first day you moved in here (who would put a trash chute next to a fucking stove) but the day has come for you to thank the gods that you have that in your house. 

going for a swim in all your neighbors’ trash is disgusting and unplanned (plus, falling down maybe six floors to your doom) but you’ll choose that over lee haechan and huang renjun any day. 

“don’t you dare fucking think about it!”

you flashed him the middle finger to tick him off. a petty retaliation for all the bullshit he and renjun put you through but it felt good nonetheless. 

“catch me if you fuckers can.”

and you were falling down the trash chute.‏‏‎ ‎

okay, yeah—maybe you should’ve thought it through before hurling yourself six floors down only for some half-filled dumpster to catch you but at least you’re still alive, right? alive and free, mind you. but you don’t have time to celebrate. 

it smelled awful and you swear your knees and elbows are bruised but you scramble to climb out and run away as fast as you can. 

it was only haechan inside your apartment. no sign of renjun but he did see you somehow and you have no doubt it was a camera inside that room. you didn’t have much time to ponder for how long they were installed in your room. it’s the least of your worries at the moment.

you’re outside. 

during purge night.

even if you did manage to escape it felt more like a win than a lose, forced out of your own apartment in nothing but shorts and a shirt—heck, you don’t even have shoes on!—it felt like they won. again. 

if you’re not going to die in the hands of some other wacko, you’ll die of hypothermia. how nice. 

you didn’t know where you were running to, the only thing you knew was you need to get the hell out of this neighborhood as fast as you can. you didn’t want to run in alleyways and risk getting stabbed for fun. maybe the sewer system… oh, right. you don’t have your phone on you and it’ll probably be pitch black down there. 

you really, truly, genuinely didn’t want to run so out in the open but it was the best you can impulsively come up with. 

when you feel like you’ve put a reasonable distance between you and the apartment, you stop, hands resting flat on your knees as you crouch to catch a breath. just as quick the adrenaline appeared as fast as it had disappeared. you feel the weight and tension crushing your legs, not to mention you’re really starting to feel that headache settle after headbutting haechan. 

you almost collapse against the brick wall. 

the last person you ever thought you’ll see jumps out from the corner of the alleyway and you almost broke their nose. 

until you saw who it was. 

“NAEUN?”

their apartment got raided, some buffy sickos who they had the misfortune of breaking into their house to purge. luckily they got away, but after getting attacked on the streets, naeun got separated after she ran for her life just like you did. you can’t help but feel sorry for the little girl, who experienced the full effect of this godforsaken holiday. 

this is bad. you can’t leave her but it’s tough enough to have to fend for yourself. you’re not so sure whether you can protect another human being but you’ll have to try. 

“did your mom or grandma tell you anything? anything at all?” you ask, crouching to her eye level. “you said your mom knew the way… where? what do you mean?”

“mom said they’re providing refuge on the other side of town but it’s a 30-minute drive. walking would take longer.”

shit. you didn’t want to risk it. you don’t have a car and you’d rather die right here right now than walk another step out in the streets—

“who’s ‘they’?”

“i don’t… i don’t know. she didn’t say.”

you licked your chapped lips. you can’t trust what she’s saying, not when you didn’t even know these people. it’s too risky, not to mention you’re already running from not one, but two people.

naeun sits next to you against the bricked wall of the alley, looking down at her lap. “i’m scared,” she admits. you hear a tremble in her voice. “are mom and grammy de—”

“no,” you cut her off, pulling her tiny body against yours. when you feel her fists clutching your jacket, you swear to protect this girl with your life. “no, they’re not. i’m sure they’re heading there now to the refuge center just like we are.”

her head pokes out, looking up towards you. “we’re going? i thought you didn’t want to.”

you shake your head, wiping her tears. “well, it’s the one way for you to meet your mom and grammy, right?”‏‏‎ ‎

walking down the streets during purge night—man, this has got to be the most ballsy thing you’ve ever done after that one time you spat at renjun in the eye. you managed to find a litter of bodies way into thirty minutes of walking and you nearly sent naeun flying onto the asphalt with how hard you pushed her back. she couldn’t see this mess, you’d be damned to allow a nine-year-old walk right into psychological trauma. 

you pocket a gun—you didn’t have enough courage to fight with a knife. you wiped the blood off using your shirt before shoving them down onto the garter of your shorts. you didn’t bother to take their shoes, none of them would’ve fit you anyway and it’ll just slow you down. 

“hey, are you alright? is that blood—”

“it’s not mine, naeun. come on, let’s get moving.”

for two hours you walked towards this mysterious refuge center on the other side of town and both you and naeun managed to evade death three times. 

the first attack: a group of high schoolers with their uniforms on. there were three of them, about your height, and while you weren’t responsible for the blood on your shirt, you’re not so sure about their lot. they looked crazy, excited even, but sloppy in the way they flung their knives and bats around. their first purge, you assumed, so it was fairly easy to take them down. a bullet to the head worked like a charm. naeun didn’t say anything when you urged her out of her hiding place to flee the scene. three bullets left. 

the second attack: it was a surprise, one that got you stabbed in the shin of your right leg. it was a drunkard with a knife, you could smell him as you walked past by his slumped form in the sidewalk. he wasn’t moving, so you thought he was dead and it was poor judgement on your part. it’s pathetic getting injured this way, you thought, but at least it was you who faced the consequences and not naeun. two bullets left.

the third attack: two men but deadlier than the girls and the drunk. you didn’t get to reason out with either of them, not when they drove their cadillac at 140 miles per hour and nearly ran you over. a chill crept up your spine when you saw the bloody, naked women strapped down onto the hood. victims. you didn’t engage in any form of combat, it’s impossible, so you took naeun in your arms and ran straight to the back alleys. number of bullets remain the same.

three lucky strikes. 

three times you’ve cheated death. 

but time is up and your luck has run out. 

“beating up a girl? what a coward, if you ask me,” you say, spitting out a tooth after someone kneed you in the face. you were in no position to say such things when they’ve got you busted up and bloody, left eye swollen after one hard punch. 

naeun is nowhere to be seen. 

good. 

who knows what these assholes could’ve done to her. you told her to run so she better fucking run and make sure she lives through this nightmare. 

another kick flies to your ribs and you lie sprawled on the dirty pavement of an alleyway—what an uncool way to die but at least you’ll die with a clear conscience. 

you passed by city hall a few minutes ago. surely, the refuge center is not too far from there. naeun will make it safe. she’ll make it. 

“what’s that look on her face? is she dead?”

another one scoffs. “well… if they’re after her then she’s as good as dead.”

you blacked out. ‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎

you hate the scent of disinfectant. it crawls up your nose and you hate how the stench is so strong you can taste it on your tongue. this isn’t heaven, not when you know you’re better off burning in hellfire.

unless you weren’t dead—your eyes shoot open, sitting up in haste as you clutch the thin blanket. 

rows upon rows of the same cot you were lying on greets you. people injured, some standing, some sitting. there were people treating them, too, but they were in normal clothes so this can’t be a hospital. in fact, it looked like you’re in some warehouse, stacks of metal crates sealing off all entrances. 

“it’s the refuge,” you whisper. 

“you’re awake!” before you could even turn around, a body launches itself onto you and nearly makes the cot collapse. judging by the small frame and the pitchy voice—

“naeun, be careful!” her mother hisses but the girl in between your arms couldn’t care less. if she’d been an adult, she’d be squeezing the life out of you. when she pulls you closer, your healing ribs made a strike of pain surge through you. 

you groan, bowing in the pain. distantly, you can hear the mother and daughter fighting and it was a banter you’ve never experienced with your own mom. it nearly made you tear up from the overwhelming wave of emotions you were feeling but all else disappears when a person tenderly grips your shoulder. 

“thank you for taking care of my granddaughter.” the old lady was smiling appreciatively as she stared at you. 

that was it. it could’ve been the happy ending to a gruesome and bloody storyline—it should’ve been, family of three reunites again and that was all thanks to you, right?

but even heroes have their own bad endings. 

you heard the ticking of the grenade only seconds before it detonates. the other refugees didn’t even have the time to take cover as some closest to the sealed doors were sent flying so far back they crashed into the row of crates behind you. 

you were severely injured, limping, ribs broken, and you only had one good eye to rely on—yet the first thing you thought of was protecting naeun. maybe the midget had a way of worming herself into your heart. but before you even push yourself off the cot, a figure emerges from the smoke. 

petite and harmless, pretty as the tips of his hair grazed porcelain cheekbones. renjun’s eyes are as cold and calculating as can be and it’s the only thing that terrifies you to no end. when he opens his mouth, anger is hidden well underneath that calm tone. 

“i’ll give you one minute to come here willingly.”

there’s no room for bargain, he needn’t when he knows you have absolutely nothing to offer him but yourself. he doesn’t finish his sentence but he trusts you’re smart enough to figure out the silent threat—come, or he’ll turn this place into a fucking bloodbath. 

cornered and weak, defenseless. weird how they have a fixation for calling you ‘kitty’ when they’re the cats in this chase. 

“naeun,” you whisper, trying to crane your neck to look for her in the filth of rocks and debris. please don’t be hurt.

you freeze when you feel a barrel pointing at your head. it was only there for seconds, haechan probably doesn’t have the guts to hurt you in any way permanently (unless it’s inflicted with his own hands and not through some other medium). 

“ah, look. now we have matching black eyes,” he giggles like a madman, craning your neck up and the leather in his globes brings discomfort to your skin. 

you see the way the other refugees looked at you—scum, dirt on their feet that brought about trouble in their lives. they were already badly hurt as it is and now, this happened? you don’t blame them. 

not one man tried to stand up for you as haechan hauls you up and throws you down on renjun’s feet. your ribs were screaming and you’re cold and so, so afraid. with shaky fingers, you gestured towards the crowd. “just... please, don’t hurt them. they don’t have anything to do with this.”

renjun coos. such a cruel smirk for a pretty face. “aw, such an angel my darling is. always thinking of others instead of her own safety. funny because i don’t think you’ve ever done such a thing for me and haechan, though. i wonder why...”

the latter digs his heel in your injured legs and you scream as black starts to surround the corners of your vision. you tried to crane your neck back, pleading eyes wanting to look at the assaulter but renjun’s calloused hand is gripping your chin too tight.

“should we make a bargain, kitten?”

you stare deep into renjun’s eyes. he knows you don’t have anything left, he can see it in your glassy eyes, too wide and vulnerable. he’s doing this all for show, trying to make you even more desperate and self-aware of your eventual demise.

and you thought haechan was the only cunning one.

“what… what bargain?"

renjun practically gleams in pride. “i’ll let everyone walk free—even your precious little naeun—that’s her name, right? the little girl you’ve been protecting the whole night?—we’ll let her and everyone in this building walk away unharmed. that’s my bargain. you know how those work, right? now, you need to give me something i want.”

forcing you to offer yourself up to them.

what a brutal way to crush your pride.

choice wasn’t an option. if you don’t oblige and choose to run away on your own, they’ll kill them and still hunt you down. you gotta say, it was a tempting bargain that appealed to the sense of heroics in your heart. naturally, you have to choose where there is less blood shed. and as renjun lets go of your chin and lets you look over your shoulder to meet little naeun’s eyes, how she sobbed against her mother’s arms and shook her head and screamed…

“hurry, kitten. i don’t like to be kept waiting.”

you know what needs to be done.

“me. i’ll give you… me.”‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎

they stood playing a game of pool in the dead of night. it’s peaceful inside the estate while the city beyond rampaged and burned. they achieved their goal, had finally seen an end to a plan that had been set in motion for years. they’ve succeeded and the broken woman lying on the bed meters from the pool table is proof of their victory. 

“don’t you just love it when an elaborate plan works like clockwork, injun?” he asks, voice like trickling honey as he hits number 9 with the cue ball. 

the other, more petite male, rolls his eyes but doesn’t disagree. “oh, please, people like us always triumph, donghyuck. it’s nothing new. although i am surprised that little girl and her so-called “family” played along so well. almost had me fooled.”

“i agree. it's such a shame they had to go.”

‎

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jenoluck (c) all rights reserved

[talktomeinclexa]

More Than A Makeover

By: TalktomeinClexa

Rating: General Audience

Warning: None

Status: Complete

Summary: The Fab Five are tasked with helping baby gay Lexa Woods come out of her shell and shine. But maybe all the girl really needs is for someone to notice her. For example, a certain blonde camera operator on your favorite Reality TV Show.

***

The GMC’s engine purrs as the car passes the sign “Welcome to Polis.” It’s the first time Queer Eye comes to Maryland, and the excitement in the vehicle is palpable.

“So, Jonathan,” says Tan, “what are we doing?”

“Our heroine of the week is called Alexandria Woods. Goes by Lexa; sweet. Lexa is a student and a part-time waitress in a café. She lives here in Polis with her two cousins, Lincoln and Anya. She was nominated by Anya. Oh, God. I’m quoting verbatim: ‘Lexa is a baby gay who has a hard time getting out of her shell.’”

“Aw,” go the guys around, and Bobby’s hand comes resting on his heart.

“She works all the time to forget her loneliness and doesn’t know how to enjoy herself. She needs someone to help her see that she doesn’t have to be afraid to let people in. At the end of the week, Anya is having a birthday party, and she hopes that her cousin will have a date. Well, Lexa, we’ll see what we can do about you, honey. Right, guys? Oh, and there is a pic. She’s cute! Look at that, Tan. What do you think?”

“There needs to be a moratorium on flannel, but she’s definitely cute.”

“Look at those curls! I can’t wait to get my hands on them and see how we can tame this.”

Clarke’s ears perk up at the words. The previous episodes focused on a middle-aged man in an on-and-off relationship with his shower, a grandmother obsessed with her collection of dolls, and a young lawyer who kept looking at her cleavage while she was filming. A cute, shy lesbian? Sounds like heaven compared to those.

Pretending to want to show the future viewers what the girl looks like, she zooms on the picture attached to the summary. Cute doesn’t begin to cover it, and the “Wow” that escapes her will have to be removed in post-prod. Along with the Fab Five’s snickers. Jonathan isn’t wrong; there’s a lot of hair. Chestnut curls cover most of the picture and part of the young woman’s face. It’s not enough to hide the bright green eyes shining behind thick-rimmed glasses, and Clarke wants nothing more than to lose herself in them. Her bone structure is amazing, all flats and angles, with a jawline crafted by the gods and plump lips frozen in a smirk.

Interesting, she thinks. The girl does look shy, but with a mischievous side floating under the surface and waiting to be released. Oh, Lexa. I can’t wait to meet you.

--

As far as first encounters go, it’s not bad. Lexa is as shy as her cousin described her but not hostile or defensive. The camera seems to make her uncomfortable, though, so Clarke does her best to stay in the background. By the end of the second day, the number of zooms on her face borders on ridiculous, and the camera operator knows that she won’t hear the end of it once the editors notice.

Lexa slowly relaxes. She smiles more and even seems to be having a good time — frequent blushes aside. Her eyes meet Clarke’s whenever the blonde is not hidden behind her equipment, and they are even greener in real life.

She lets Jonathan straighten and braid her hair behind her head to reveal her face. It makes her look like a medieval warrior, and the artist in Clarke itches to paint her. The makeup is more of a struggle, and they settle on eyeliner for now. You can lead a horse to water and all that.

On the second day, Lexa listens to Antoni with rapt attention when the chef teaches her some new dishes, only using ingredients that won’t make a hole in her wallet. They all eat together every night, the discussion full of laughers and jokes, and the girl comes more alive with each passing day.

She agrees to let Tan take her shopping and only perfunctorily complains when he stops her from buying her 100th flannel shirt. She hesitates to get out of the fitting room when he chooses some nicer slacks and fit tops to compliment her figure, and Clarke turns off the camera. They can always reshoot it later. She wants to girl to have space to shine without getting pressured. And if the sweet man notices it, he doesn’t comment on it.

Letting Bobby redecorate is the funniest part of the show. Even Lincoln and Anya get excited like little kids when the house turns into a warmer, more organized version of what it was. The cousins get their separate spaces showcasing what they like, but the living room mashes the three styles in an elegant blend instead of the chaos it used to be. And Lexa’s bedroom, with the bookshelves and desk on one side and the brand-new waterbed on the other, in earthy, greenly tones… Clarke could live in it.

Keep Reading

[justreadingfics]

It’s a Deal (Ch. 14)

Chapter Summary: Hearts are broken.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: angst, “The Mandalorian” reference.

A/N: One more chapter after this and we’re done. Thank you, incredible Suz, @bucky-the-thigh-slayer for having my back. Love you. The link to my masterlist, where you can find the other chapters, is on my description. Feedback is highly appreciated.

Tag list for this story is closed.  

There’s that annoying little chilling feeling running down his spine while Bucky parks his bike on the nearest parking lot to your building and steps towards your place. Not the dreadful feeling he gets on missions when his life or others’ are in danger. No, not that one. Is that feeling he gets when he knows something’s up, something’s out of order, not necessarily bad, but something that he needs to put his focus on…

He’s been trying to hold himself from going to your place, he knows that it may sound like he’s imposing himself in your personal space, in your life, but he’s been trying to call you in the last few hours, sent a few messages but you haven’t answered  and then that annoying little feeling came to say hello.

And in his long ass life, he’s learned better than to ignore that feeling. He knows you’re not at work because it’s a Sunday and maybe you just went out somewhere without your phone and he’s just being paranoid or something… But he’ll just check if you’re ok, see those pretty eyes of yours and leave. That’s it.  He may seem like a fucking stalker, but if that is going to assure him you’re ok, then so be it.

And God knows how much he would appreciate a glimpse of you right now.

The little hairs on his neck stand in attention at the sight he catches from the corner of your street and brings him to a full stop. That short little asshole of your ex, dragging a big suitcase with one hand and holding a couple of boxes with the other.

Bucky’s heart races and he frowns, watching when that Eddie guy lets go of the suitcase and balances himself to not let the boxes fall while he types the code to open the front door, getting into your building right after, dragging the suitcase with him.

The air catches in Bucky’s throat before it comes out in short little breaths. His mind runs with all the possible scenarios that would explain that scene… he desperately searches for ones that don’t have to mean what his jumping heart is telling him it means.

He’s not thinking clearly through the mess that his mind has become, but he decides he needs to see it for himself, as dreadful as he is of what he’s going to see.

In a few long and quick steps he’s at the building’s door, typing the numbers he’s just registered the douchebag typing and in a second he’s in the elevator up to your floor.

Once he’s at your door, ready to knock on the wood, his hand stops midair, before it drops to his side while he sighs. Deeply. This is madness… he shouldn’t be here. He doesn’t need to see anything, he can wait and talk to you some other time, when he’s less… anguished… anxious… He knows what he’s thinking, but it doesn’t mean that’s the case. You and the guy had lived together for years… maybe he’s just returning some of your stuff… maybe… damn… he brushes his hand over his face, harshly. He should leave.

And he’s about to do exactly that when the door opens.

Bucky has been calling the guy a short little asshole all this time and, while he still may be an absolute jackass and Bucky surely and easily beats him in height, somehow he feels like the smallest person on earth standing in front of the man right now.

“Can I help you?” Eddie asks, hardening his face after an immeasurable moment of stunned silence between the two men.

“Ahm,” Bucky clears his throat and keeps his voice firm, “Can I talk to Y/N?”  

Eddie lets out a small puff and God knows how much Bucky needs to hold himself back from punching that stupid little face, “She’s not home, she had a call for something at work,” Eddie answers plainly.

Bucky feels when his jaw tightens painfully and his chest puffs, “Then what the hell are you doing here?”  His voice comes out dangerously low as his chin tips up.

A little and annoying smirk twists Eddie’s lips and… fuck, Bucky has a terrible feeling about that. “Not that I need to give you any explanation but I’m moving back. This is my home again.” He regards Bucky for a second after adding, “Our home.”

The words punch the air out of Bucky’s lungs and, looking behind Eddie’s shoulder he sees the numerous boxes… your place… where he had you in his arms so many times now filled with that guy’s stuff next to your things… His stomach churns violently.

“Are you… are you and Y/N...” he can’t even finish the question, the words getting stuck in his throat, choking him like a deadly poison.

“Listen, dude…” Eddie bursts out, “What Y/N and I have isn’t some kind of fling or deal or whatever one small time apart can destroy, we belong together.” He huffs and bites his cheek before continuing impatiently, while all Bucky can do is stare at him, frozen in place, ”I have no time for this. If you have questions you can ask her whenever you want, if she has anything to explain to you, she will. Now if you excuse me.” He gestures towards the elevator.

Bucky would rather die a thousand times before he would allow himself to continue showing a single more minute of vulnerability in front of that guy… so he sucks it all down his throat and, holding himself in the excruciating pain rushing up his chest like it’s an anchor, he puts on a hard face and just nods, stepping away while he meets, for the first time, the ache he knows is the feeling of his heart breaking.

~~~

 At the sight before her, Natasha sighs and remembers the time when she would find much different scenarios when she would burst into Bucky’s place. Where she would usually find different underwear tossed around the floor and small parties in his room, now she sees a metal armed dude sprawled on the sofa, face deep into not one, but two huge pints of Stark Raving Hazelnuts from Ben & Jerry’s, while Home Alone plays on the TV, and an Alpine lays comfortably on his lap.

Her little head perks up once Nat’s steps into the room. At least one of them acknowledges her presence.  

“Jesus, Bucky...”

He then moves his gaze to her direction, showing off his puffed eyes while shoving a huge spoon of ice-cream in his mouth, “What?” He speaks with a mouthful, “Breakfast?” He makes an offering gesture with the pint.

“I see you at least put on your uniform,” Nat ignores the offer, stepping towards him, kicking aside the many remains and open packages of junk food on her way. She slaps his leg off the sofa so she can sit beside him. As he grumpily adjusts his position to give her room, an equally grumpy Alpine jumps off his lap and aims a gaze of sheer contempt at Nat, before sauntering towards her plate of food in the kitchen.  

“Well… Show must go on, right?” Bucky answers while his saddened gaze fixes on the tv again.

Nat just stares at him for a moment, her heart twisting in sorrow at his miserable demeanor, “Listen…” she says, with a softer tone, “I checked, she really is on a mission.” At that, she spots the twitch on his jaw, but he doesn’t look back at her, “Apparently it was some last-minute thing about Thor and earthly technology.” Nat frowns and shrugs, “That’s probably the reason why she’s not picking up your calls or mine for the last couple of days. She’s just busy. You can talk to her when she comes back.”

“Why?” He puts the pints of ice cream aside as his face snaps at her.

Despite the initial harshness on his tone, there’s no trace of anger there on his expression. Just… sadness… and, honestly, Nat would deal better with the anger. She’s never seen Bucky like this… not after he came back from Wakanda.

Bucky breathes in a shuddering breath, like it’s painful for him to even do that before he continues speaking, “The guy is back to her place, Nat… all his fucking boxes and clothes and shit next to hers. They’re back together. That’s it. I honestly don’t wanna listen to her telling me how much that guy matters to her…” His voice cracks, but he goes on talking, “That she and I was fun, I was a good fuck and all but not good enough compared to ten years with that…” He huffs, “That douchebag. I don’t wanna hear her saying he’s the real deal and not me.” He bites on his cheek, looking at Nat with eyes becoming glossy, “I just don’t think I can.”

“Bucky…”

“Ugh, no, seriously Nat, fuck,” he growls while he narrows his eyes and his jaw tightens, “Seriously, that guy… if he only… shit… he doesn’t deserve her.” Indignance pours out of his voice, which comes out through his teeth while his hands clench into fists, “He doesn’t appreciate what he has… ugh…” He groans, and lets himself fall back into the sofa, “But…” He sighs, and nods, licking his lips, “If that’s what she wants… I’m not gonna try and take it away from her. I won’t.”  He shrugs.

Like she’s sensing the distress in her human, Alpine materializes on the sofa, between Nat and Bucky, and lets out a meow before curling herself against his thigh. Bucky absentmindedly starts petting her neck, staring up to the ceiling.

Nat could hear the pain of his heart shattering through his words. As for her… regret creeps up inside her. Regret for starting this between Bucky and you. She had a feeling that things could go south, but in all the scenarios she pictured for that, Bucky being the one heartbroken definitely wasn’t one of them. And yet, there he is. Devastated. Completely fucked. In a way she never thought she would see him for… love.

Damn… 

“Are you guys ready?”

The three of them turn towards the voice, spotting Steve there, in his full gear and his signature worried and yet soft look that belongs to Bucky.

“Yup,” Bucky taps on his thighs and grabs Alpine in one hand, who meows loudly, and two suitcases, one bigger and one smaller with the other one.

“Are you seriously taking her with us?” Nat checks, following him towards the door.

“Wherever I go, she goes,” he answers, his voice as down as his face.

“Buck,” Steve puts his hand on his friend’s shoulder, stopping him at the door, “Are you sure you’re ok to go on the mission, I can-“

“I’m fine, punk,” Bucky cuts him off, “I’m a grown ass man, I can handle my feelings.” 

As Bucky walks past his friend and moves to the elevator, Nat exchanges looks with Steve. She’s heard Bucky saying that exact sentence numerous times lately, after he acknowledged the way he feels for you.

The difference is that the usual confidence is just not there anymore.

~~~

You’re frowning while looking down at him. His words making their way into your senses. 

You free one hand of his secured hold to reach over and cup his smiling face.

He leans into your touch.

You make a decision.

 Your heart and mind are finally set together in what you now know you want. Hell… you think you know this for a while, but now… with Eddie bringing all those memories and telling you all of that, it did help you get through the split in your heart and mend it back into one. A whole new heart.

One that is all his.

His.

“Eddie,” your voice is soft, while he smiles up at you, “I remember all of that.” You smile, too, referring to the box of memories next you, “Every single memory… everything we shared… those ten years… they helped me mold me into what I am. There’s no me, there’s no what I am today without them,” you state, while, with your thumb, you caress his cheek.

Eddie nods, “There’s no me without you, either, that’s why I’m here.”

“But, Eddie…” you sigh and lick you lips, “Remember how you’ve told me a couple of times I seem different?”

The smile on Eddie's face slowly drops.

“That’s because I am… I’m not just… I’m not just that anymore.” You nod towards the box, “I found out there’s more in me, and honestly, I think there’s more in you, too, that just doesn’t fit to what we used to be anymore.”

He blinks repeated times, staring up at you, and you lean even closer and cup both sides of his face. 

“I’m sorry. This is all part of who I am. You’re part of who I am. But I can’t go back.” You shake your head, “I can’t.”  

He keeps his stare on you and, after a moment, like he’s been processing what you said to him, he lets out a huff, “Are you serious?” he harshly pulls your hands away from his face and gets up, “Are you fucking serious? Is this because you’re fucking that guy?” He raises his voice, gesturing away.

“Eddie…” You tilt your head as a warning sign.

“No, seriously, you’re trading me, you’re trading us for what?” He spits and points to his chest while his face contorts into something ugly you’ve never seen on him before, “A player who will throw you in the trash for the next nicer piece of ass he sees? For what? A good fuck? An eight pack? A few more inches of dick? Come on…”

“Hey,” you snap, rushing up from your seat to level him, “What the fuck, Eddie?” You curse, as he stares back at you defiantly, “First of all you don’t get to talk to me like that, you lower you goddamn tone.” You point a finger at him, “And, honestly? Bucky is not just “that guy” to me. He’s not a player. You don’t know him, and you don’t know who I am with him, you could never know.”

Through the anger bringing red blurs to your vision, you see when his Adam bone bobs, but he keeps an insolent chin lifted up and he has struck something in you by talking about Bucky and your feelings for him in such a belittling way.  

“I didn’t want things to end like that,” you continue, shaking your head, “I really didn’t, but if you’re talking shit you don’t know the first thing about… ugh… fuck that,” you let out a harsh breath, “In one month or so Bucky respected and appreciated me more than you did in ten years. With him I don’t have to pretend I like or don’t like things just not to upset him or whatever, I learned I can be fun and honest… and…  and he fucking eats my pussy, for God’s sake,” you burst out in a rush of spite.

Eddie takes a step back, completely stunned by your words and outburst, while a dead silence settles in the room.

“Wow,” he mumbles nodding his head and looking away from you.

You shut your eyes and breathe in deeply, letting your head drop for a moment, while reason starts to come back to your senses, “Shit… shit…” You curse under your breath, looking up at him again, “This is not about that, Eddie…” you say, being honest with him and yourself, “I loved you, I really did, you are so important… I appreciate our time together so much… but now…” You press your lips in a taut line and shrugs, “It’s over…And, yeah… Bucky may be in my life now, but-“

He snorts, crossing his arms in front of his chest. There’s pure scorn in his gaze for you, but you decide to ignore that. Eddie really matters a lot to you and you don’t want to end it in such a bad note. You want closure for the two of you, so both of you can accept what you had is over and move on with your lives. 

“But this is not about him. Not completely, at least,” you continue, “It’s us Eddie.” You plead, taking a step closer to him, “Our relationship meant the world, but… but I think we outgrew it-”

“You speak for yourself,” he spits.

You sigh at the anger that is still there, spilling through his voice, but you nod, and speaks softly, “Ok, then… I outgrew our relationship, but even if you think you haven’t, that doesn’t mean it would be good for you to insist on something you realized at some point it wasn’t what you wanted anymore. You can’t deny that.”  

You gasp and try to keep your balance when he drops on his knees and latches himself at you, hugging your waist tightly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know I caused all this, but please don’t leave me, don’t give up on us,” he begs, his voice breaking, pressing his cheek on you, “Please… please.”

“Eddie… Eddie…” You try catching his attention, as he keeps his chant of remorseful and begging words,  “Stop... stop, Eddie, come here.”

You reach down for his forearms, adding some force to pull him up, to which he lets you. 

When his weeping face levels yours, you gently wipe the tears falling down with your fingers, “You ended this because you weren’t happy, either, and it’s ok. It’s ok to let go,” you say, gently, before cupping his face and fixing your gaze on his, “Let go, Eddie. Let go.”

He exhales, his eyes shutting. While you keep gentle hands on his face, he brings his forehead to yours.

“We’re gonna be ok,” you whisper, wishing that he would understand that moving on is the best thing for the two of you.

At that, he harshly parts himself from you. Hurt and rejection plastered all over his face while he averts his gaze from you.

“Eddie… I don’t know what else to say,” you heave a sigh.   

Before he gives you the comeback he’s about to give you, which you know it wasn’t gonna be a nice one, your phone rings. Nick Fury’s ringtone.

“Shit,” you curse, “I’m sorry, I need to pick that.” You rush and reach out for your phone on the center table, “Yes, Sir… of course… absolutely. I’ll gather my team and will be there in one hour, tops. Alright.”

“It’s work…” you tell Eddie, looking down as you turn off your phone.

“On a fucking Saturday night?” Eddie scoffs, not looking at you.

“Thor is on a solo mission and needs assistance from my team. Fury asked me to lead it. I…” You look at him, but he doesn’t look back at you, “I need to go change,” you say, defeated by his refusal to engage with you or with what you’ve been trying to tell him so far.

Once you come back from your bedroom in a hurry and ready to leave, Eddie is there in the living room, now sitting on the sofa.

“Are you sure?” He asks once you walked over the sofa and met his dull gaze.

“Yes.”

He nods slowly, biting his cheek.

“I’m gonna need to go now, Eddie,” you tentatively say. You step closer to him, but he turns his face to the other side and you take the hint. Stopping on your track.

“What of this place?” He gestures around.

You look around the place you two got together and as from that moment, you don’t see yourself in it anymore. Satisfied with your decision, you walk towards the key hook on the wall and he watches as you come closer to him again and take his hand from his lap, putting the keys in his palm.

“This place is not mine anymore,” you give him a tight smile.

You hold his hand a little longer while his gaze lingers at where you’re touching him.

“Goodbye, Eddie,” you say.

When he doesn’t give you an answer or even spares a look your way, you sigh, deeply. If that’s how he wants it to go, so be it. Letting go of his hand you walk to the door.

As soon as you step aside from your now former home, you realize you’re also walking towards a new phase of your life and you take in a big and refreshing breath before a loose smile forms in your lips. There’s only one thing in your mind, now. Or better, one person.

Bucky.  

~~~

[daydreamstew]

(did I sent you one already? who cares yolo) brio + 58

thank you, paloma!! 💕🥰 look at you trying to get me to write angst! HA! enjoy my first ever college au instead 🤪

58. “I made a mistake.”

“I made a mistake,” Beth blurts out as soon as the door to Rio’s room swings open.

Her pleading eyes meet his sleep-bleary ones, blinking from the fluorescent lights of their rundown dorm hallway. He must’ve still been sleeping.

That’s when she glances down, eyes going wide when she realizes that the only thing he’s wearing is basketball shorts, sitting low on his hips revealing that v muscle thing and a happy trail leading to, well, a morning wood situation even though it’s the afternoon.

Her gaze darts back up to Rio, now sporting a smug grin and raised eyebrows, but she just squares her shoulders in spite of the flush she can feel blotting her cheeks.

“Yeah, what’d you do?” he asks, eyes dipping down to look her over like always.

“I forgot to bring my key with me when I left for class and the door locked behind me and now I’m locked out and my notes for my comp gov exam are in there and I can’t study without them and I need an A on it to bump my grade up,” she explains in one breath, eyes wide.

Rio shifts to lean against his door frame, his muscles rippling from the movement and she has to stop herself from staring for too long because she cannot be looking at him, another fellow RA, like that. That’s how she got into this mess in the first place.

“Yeah, see this is why you should just type your notes like the rest of us, darlin’,” he responds, wagging his pointer finger at her.

“I-,” she starts, before stopping to take a deep breath to calm herself.

God, it’s just like Rio to try to push her buttons like this. It’s almost like he enjoys it.

“Studies show that you learn more when you physically write down the information, Rio,” she replies, voice sickly sweet.

He hums out a noise, chest rumbling and, shit, her eyes glance down again.

Pull it together, Marks!

“Aight so you need your notes. Why can’t you just ask your boyfriend for the spare key to your room? Ain’t he working in the office right now?” he asks.

Her eyes glance down to the stained carpet, avoiding looking at him. Because, yes, Dean is the one scheduled to be in the RA office right now. She knows his work schedule like the back of her hand. But-

“We actually broke up,” she breathes out, feigning being casual.

But it’s not casual. Not at all. Because Dean had-

Well, he’d cheated on her with Amber from back home, who is still a senior in high school. Which—ew. And she can barely handle looking at him, but she has to anyway because they’re both RA’s for the same dorm complex and he has seniority over her since he’s a senior and she just can’t ask him for a favor right now. Can’t fathom using the word please to the guy that has made her feel so worthless.

But she doesn’t say all that to Rio because as much as they’re friends, as much as they enjoy talking shit and studying together in the lounge, as much as they’ve bonded over their Detroit upbringings and other more serious stuff—like them both losing a parent young and the responsibilities they have back home—she doesn’t want him to know the details of this.

Because, even though she knows it’s not her fault, she still feels this aching feeling of shame every time she thinks about it. And she’s terrified that the knowledge may change the way Rio looks at her. Like he may look at her and see what she sees right now. A girl that wasn’t enough.

“Oh yeah? What’d that asshole do now?” he asks, voice dripping with disdain.

He’s always hated Dean. She could always see a spark of something in Rio’s eyes whenever Dean fucked up.

She clears her throat, eyes looking everywhere but him.

“It’s nothing, okay? We’re done and I don’t really want to ask him for anything right now,” she says with a shrug.

“Elizabeth,” Rio says, voice now serious.

She’s not sure why she came to him. She has other RA friends she could’ve asked that would’ve made this less difficult. She would’ve explained that she and Dean broke up and they would’ve given her a look of pity and an I’m so sorry and moved on.

It’s just that as much as he gives her shit, he really is always there for her. He’s the one that got one of his sketchy friends to scare off that guy that wouldn’t stop harassing her and texting her. He’s the one that stayed up helping her work through her calculus practice exam during midterms while Dean went to Logan’s party. He’s the one that held her when she broke down in tears from stress over classes and work and Annie struggling in high school.

“Please just help me with this okay? I need to get my notes or else I’m gonna fail and then the next thing you know I’ll be dropping out and moving home and then who are you gonna pick on all the time? You’re gonna have to start teasing Jeremy or something,” she rushes out.

He sighs out a reluctant laugh and nods.

“Nah can’t be having that. That kid’s weird as fuck,” he jokes.

She smiles at him softly and he rolls his eyes.

“Okay so what do you need me to do?” he asks.

“All I need is for you to sneak into the drawer on the bottom right that holds the keys while I distract him,” she explains.

“Yeah and how you gonna do that?” he questions, eyebrows raised.

She looks down and reaches into her tank top to readjust her boobs for optimal cleavage before straightening her posture and beaming at him with a smug smile.

His grin is crooked and his eyes are glazing over as he eyes the trap she just set. When his perusal lasts longer than usual and he bites at his lip, eyes still on her chest, she smacks at his arm.

“Hey!” she exclaims, but she’s smiling.

He throws his head back in laughter.

“Yeah, that fool ain’t gonna know what hit him,” Rio replies, shaking his head.

She giggles.

“Aight lemme just put a hoodie on,” Rio says, slipping into his room.

She follows and smiles when she sees his normally perfectly made bed rumpled from his sleep.

He’s throwing on some shoes and grabbing his keys, looking like he’s just about ready to leave when she stops him, grabbing his wrist.

“Wait,” she starts.

“What?” he asks.

“Your..situation,” she mutters out, eyes glancing down to his groin. “Aren’t you gonna...take care of it?”

She can’t bring herself to be more specific. She thinks she may simply combust if he makes her spell it out.

He licks at his lips and looks down at his erection, still holding strong.

“Why? You don’t want Deansie to think we were in the middle of something?”

She laughs nervously.

“No,” she insists.

“Okay then you wanna help me take care of it?” he teases.

And he’s joking, but she can’t help the warmth she feels in her gut at even the thought of touching Rio like that.

“No thanks,” she squeaks out.

“Mm so polite,” he rasps, eyes dark.  

He hesitates before asking almost tentatively, “Maybe next time?”

His eyes dart to her lips briefly before returning to her gaze.

And, god, what’s wrong with her? She just broke up with Dean and her and Rio are friends. Good ones. And she doesn’t want to risk losing someone else.

But she can’t help herself from biting at her lip and saying, “Yeah. Maybe next time.”

His mouth parts slightly and he’s breathing heavier and she is too.

Something about the way they’re looking at each other is changing by the second, their vision clearing without a Dean-sized obstacle blocking the way. Revealing to her a possibility she hadn’t even fully considered.

She glances down to his lips and suddenly she’s thinking about how he could take care of her, so she clears her throat and takes a couple of steps away from him before she does something stupid like kiss him.

“How ‘bout we watch something for a minute? While it, uh, takes care of itself?” he suggests, gently mocking her prudeness.

As she climbs into his just slept-in sheets, she realizes that despite having watched hundreds of hours of tv together, they’ve never done it in his bed. They usually do it in the lounge, but they may have to switch this to their usual spot. It smells far better.

And if as they settle in for an episode of New Girl they’ve seen a dozen times, she shifts closer until she’s pressed into his side, and if he tentatively wraps his arm around her shoulder like they’re two fifteen-year-olds on their first date, and if she wordlessly hits play on the next episode so he doesn’t stop playing with her hair, then so be it.

The notes can wait. It’s still early. They have time. She’s good where they are right now—an “enough” with someone who looks at her like she’s more than.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 02

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: i’m still stunned at how many of you are enjoying this story. thank you so so much for your support. much love xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Bucky always woke up at 5AM and waking up at 5 AM was already considered a victory for him - to sleep through the night. Once the digital clock flashed 5 AM in electric red, his eyes were wide open, the sight of constant darkness being the only thing he could see. His routine was precise, as precise as time itself and it barely changed - gym then a dark cup of coffee followed by reading whatever coffee side table book Steve would linger around.

Y/N, unlike him, didn’t have a precise routine. She enjoyed routine but her mornings were always her own time, away from everything. On her free days she would try to wake up by at least 10. After she was fully awake she would turn on the TV in her bedroom and turn on the kettle for a nice tea. She would then lay in bed, surrounded by her blankets and dressed in an oversized cardigan while some random show played.

Bucky’s mornings were always filled with people coming in and out, that was life living in the Avengers headquarters. Some mornings he thought about moving into the apartment in Brooklyn but that would just upset Steve. Heck, he didn’t even know Bucky had bought the apartment, it had been an impulse buy and he would go there every week to check on it. However, Brooklyn wasn’t as close to Y/N’s in SoHo so he guessed he would stay. Y/N’s mornings on the other hand were quiet, too quiet. It was just her, just her in a two bedroom apartment in the middle of wealthy SoHo.

      - Morning, Buck. - Steve, like always, walked into the kitchen, coffee mug saying number one dad in hand. He always had this smile that Bucky couldn’t find the words, a smile that was almost glad that he was still alive yet pitiful. The pure look of someone who’s been burdened, a mother to a child’s look, one she didn’t want. - Excited for guarding your first client?

      - Feels more like guarding property. - he mumbled over the dark coffee, chugging it all before anymore questions could be asked. 

It shouldn’t be a hard day, he thought to himself, mostly looking after her if she decided to go out for anything. He had looked into her profile, she was an easy target. Almost always wearing heels, flowey clothing, things that wouldn’t help her if someone was after her. Anyway, looked like an easy job, easier than saving the world.

Meanwhile, Y/N was laid in the middle of her covers, remote in hand as she skimmed through the channels. Looking around she noticed the loneliness she was in, the empty walls decorated with her own choosing but still empty. No sounds, too quiet. 

She rose from the bed, big socks touching the cedar wood floor as she padded up to the kitchen. The agency had had everything decorated and the fridge stocked but as she opened the door she couldn’t find a single thing she wanted to eat. Disappointed, she closed the fridge, leaning against it to look at the rest of the flat. It was quiet, too quiet, filled with the sounds of quiet if that was even a physically possible thing. She let herself slide down the fridge front, sitting on the floor as she thought about what to do. She didn’t have her script yet, or at least more than two pages of it and going outside was the least thing she wanted to do today.

Y/N was about to fall asleep on the ground against her fridge, she heard footsteps. Quickly, she got onto her feet, rushing over to the door so fast she almost slipped. Pushing the peep hole away she put herself on her tippy toes to see if one of the neighbours was home.

     - Y/N, are you staring out the peep hole? - the person whose steps belonged too was definitely better than any neighbour. Quickly, she unlocked the door, pushing the metal that held it shut to the wall and opened it to see Bucky in a much more casual attire than before. Red henley with some loose dark jeans looked better in her opinion. - If you hear someone it’s always a terrible idea to use the peep hole. Almost always let’s them know someone’s in.

     - Then what are peep holes for? - Bucky playfully rolled his eyes but not before observing what she was wearing. She looked more comfortable. - Do you wanna come in? 

     - Miss Olson said I am to wait outside your door until you want to leave the apartment.

     - What if someone broke my window and took me?

     - Trust me, Y/N. I would know and would win that fight. 

     - You sure you don’t wanna come in? I could cook you some breakfast. Whatever you like. - she had that shine in her eyes, Bucky couldn’t explain it. He just knew it didn’t felt forced but she surely was nervous judging by the pushing of her oversized cardigan’s sleeve to cover her hand. - The agency filled my fridge with so much food I don’t know what to do with it.

     - I’m not a breakfast kind of person, Y/N.

     - Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. - her small hand came to rest over his wrist, pulling at it so he would go inside. He found it amusing how someone who was much shorter than him, head barely hitting his collarbones, would try to move him. Although, surprising wasn’t the fact that he moved but the fact that she touched him, she touched the Winter Soldier.

Bucky wasn’t a kid anymore, he wasn’t naive and he lacked Steve’s “all good” view of the world so he knew what people thought of him. They thought he had been of use but at the end of the day he had been the Winter Soldier for 70 years. They didn’t dare touch him but her she was inviting him into her home and touching him as if he were an old friend.

Once he got in, he immediately looked at everything. There were fake flowers everywhere in little glass jars, if they were broken and she were trying to escape she would get hurt, too many windows and not a lot of mirrored surfaces, people could look in. 

     - Would you like some pancakes? French toast? - her voice interrupted his inspection. - My mom was a cook, I can cook pretty much whatever you want. Can’t promise it will be as good as a cook’s but it’ll be edible.

     - You really don’t need to feed me, Y/N. - his gaze returned to her apartment, open doors everywhere.

     - I just thought ... since you’re going to be around a while we should be friendly with each other. - she looked down at her feet before looking up again, head slightly looking to the side. - I don’t know anyone in here, I didn’t even pick this apartment so I thought I would at least get to know you.

She felt ashamed, heat seemed to radiate from her cheeks to her whole body. Back at the theatre everyone knew each other, they all had show themed hoodies and would say hi whenever they came in and left but things in Hollywood were different. In her first movie she had made friends with only one cast member who still spoke to her but everyone else did their job and returned to their lives without a single hello. She thought that maybe knowing Bucky would make having someone constantly in her life a bit easier but she understood his position.

Bucky himself seemed to read that all on her face and as he did a thought popped into his head “they are gonna eat her alive”. 

     - Let’s try that French Toast. - she smiled at his answer, once again pulling his hand towards the kitchen. It was spacious for a SoHo flat, with cut edge technology and also a very visible knife set. He would have to tell her to put that somewhere else. 

She on the other hand quickly assembled all she needed, placing it on the marble countertop, a happy grin on her face as she started to prepare the meal. It reminded him of memories he had tried to suppress.

     - Mum’s a cook, why are you an actress? - those memories were still memories he wasn’t ready to get back and as such he reckoned speaking with her would keep it out. 

     - I don’t really know how to explain it. - she smiled, pulling a few hair strands behind her ear. - My mum took me to a musical after I didn’t get cast in the nativity play. It was Phantom of the Opera, I just remembered that chandelier rising and crashing and the energy of the performers. There was just ... that was time stopping and rushing at the same time. And the look on the performers faces as they finished a piece, god it was just, I had never seen and I don’t think I have ever seen such passion in someone’s face. 

Bucky moved his head ever so slightly, she seemed to be lost in her own memories, a daydream gaze washing over her features. He wondered what it was like to have memories to be proud of.

     - I’m sorry, I must sound like a sap. Why do you become a bodyguard?

     - I like a challenge.

     - That’s what you told me yesterday. - she placed a beautiful set plate in front of him. Beautiful things make beautiful things, that’s what his mother once told him. Maybe she was right.

     - What can I say, I’m not that interesting. 

     - I don’t know if that’s true. - she added a coffee cup to the French Toast, before pulling a chair. - You know, if I’m at home you don’t need to be outside my door, you can come in.

     - I wouldn’t want to intrude on your personal space.

     - It’s not really my personal space. The agency bought the flat and decorated it themselves so I guess it’s just the space I live in. I don’t really know the city yet so you’re mostly waiting outside for nothing. - she shrugged.

    - How long have you been in New York?

    - A little over 5 months. I was in California during my last movie and prior to that I was living in Haymarket in London. How long have you been in New York?

    - I was born in Brooklyn, about half hour away from here. Lived here my whole life ever since ... at least the part of it I could control.

Bucky waited to see that pity look, the one everyone in the team seemed to give them whenever they looked at him but she didn’t. She merely wrapped her hand around his, caring smile of someone who almost looked proud he existed or proud he was alive. They’re gonna eat her alive, he thought to himself once again.

    - Hey, you could show me around. - she suggested, jumping from the high chair onto the floor.

    - I don’t hang around SoHo, Y/N. 

    - Well, you could show me Brooklyn. Isn’t Coney Island in Brooklyn?

    - You wanna go to Coney Island? - he chuckled. - I don’t think your agency would enjoy that. Too public.

    - They don’t need to know. - she smirked playfully. - If you don’t tell them they won’t know.

    - You’re a celebrity, trust me you’ll be noticed. 

    - You said on your CV you were good at blending and disappearing into a crowd. Please, I’ll get you whatever you want in Coney Island.

    - Whatever I want? - he furrowed his eyebrows at her and she nodded. - Alright, Y/N.

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @nsfwsebbie @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @buckyandsebastian @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @tonystankschild @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverrated @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess​ 

[gretavanfanfic]

Noisy Neighbor

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x (F) Reader

Warnings: Smut! 18+ only

Word Count: 5000ish

Summary: The walls in your apartment are a bit thin and Neighbor!Josh likes to make noise.

You can’t deny that you have a bit of a crush on your neighbor, Josh. From the day he moved into the apartment next to yours, you were immediately attracted to his looks. And then, a few weeks later, he introduced himself to you in the hallway and you found out that he’s actually the sweetest person in the world. Your attraction intensified tenfold. Now, every time you enter or leave your apartment, you can’t stop yourself from hoping that you’ll run into him in the halls.

Though you’ve only spoken to Josh on a handful of occasions, you feel as though you know him on an intimate level due to the paper thin walls of your home. You’ve concluded that your living rooms must share a wall, because you can hear absolutely everything Josh does in the main room of your suite. You weren’t surprised when you discovered this though, considering the low price you pay for rent each month. What did surprise you was that you found it didn’t annoy you in the slightest. Josh makes quite a bit of noise, but honestly, you very much enjoy the chaos that regularly flows out of his apartment. 

You hate to admit it, because you know it’s creepy, but sometimes you intentionally eavesdrop on the goings-on in Josh’s apartment. A lot of the time, it’s more entertaining than anything you could watch on TV. Josh has 3 friends (or maybe brothers, they look like they may be related) that visit so often, you frequently wonder why they all didn’t just move in together. When they’re over, the shouting and laughter is constant, and you get a major kick out of listening to their stories and antics. And then there’s Josh’s singing. Whenever he’s home alone, you can hear his angelic voice belting out song after song, some that you recognize and others that you don’t. His voice is so gorgeous, you’re sure he could sing the phone book and make it sound amazing. Why would you listen to music on your speakers when you have a front row seat to Josh’s beautiful live performances? You feel a bit guilty for your snooping, but you figure it’s harmless. If Josh didn’t want anyone to hear him, he’d quiet down.

This particular evening, though, your eavesdropping doesn’t seem quite as harmless as usual. You’re not deliberately spying on Josh. At first. You’re just settling in for a night of Chinese takeout and Netflix when a noise through the wall catches your attention. A...sexy noise. It isn’t loud, definitely more quiet than most of the sounds coming from Josh’s unit, but you hear it nonetheless. Curious, you turn the volume on the TV down and lean closer to the wall behind your couch, waiting to hear if it happens again.

A few moments later and there it is once more, an unmistakable moan. Just that small sound makes your entire body feel hot, and you press your ear even closer to the wall. Is he doing what I think he’s doing? You can’t hear anything else that would give you any more hints, but why else would he be letting out little moans here and there? The image of Josh touching himself causes wetness to build between your thighs. 

Then you’re struck by another thought, one that lessens your desire slightly. What if he’s with someone? If you’re being honest with yourself, you would probably be devastated if that was the case. Though you wouldn’t even really consider Josh a friend, you’ve held out on the hope that maybe something would happen between the two of you someday. You never thought that he may have a girlfriend, or even about him sleeping with other girls.

You begin to feel dejected, until you realize that you’re getting ahead of yourself. You’ve been home for hours, and not once did you hear Josh’s front door open or close. You also hadn’t heard him talk to anyone during the day. He had been singing for a bit earlier, and his TV was on briefly, but that was it. If a girl had been there, you’re sure you would have heard her at some point. And so, you allow yourself to believe that Josh is in his apartment alone, scratching his own itch.

Another low groan sounds a few moments later, and you squirm in your seat, getting wetter and wetter by the second. Invested now, you mute the TV altogether so you can hear Josh without any background static. Voyeurism is not something you engage in on a regular basis, so you can’t help feeling a little dirty listening in on his “personal time.” But you can’t make yourself turn a blind eye and resume your show on Netflix either. All you can focus on is Josh and the arousal he’s brought on.

Josh’s moans are becoming louder and more frequent now. Some are small grunts, whereas others are drawn out and higher in pitch, almost whiny. You’ve never heard anything hotter in your life, and before long, you’re practically aching for him. You want to see his body, which you’re certain is toned but not overly muscular, and run your fingertips over every inch of his skin. You yearn for him to kiss you, so you can glide your tongue over his luscious lips and feel the vibration of his groans in your mouth. More than anything, you want to fuck him. Feel the pleasant stretch as he thrusts into you over and over, filling you up and satisfying your needs.

Unable to stop yourself, your right hand travels past the waistband of your leggings and into your underwear. Using your middle finger, you gather some of your wetness and drag it up to your clit, rubbing slow circles over the sensitive nerve. Your eyes fall shut at the feeling it elicits. 

This isn’t the first time you’ve thought of Josh while getting yourself off. He’s been a staple in your fantasies ever since the day he introduced himself. Pretending it’s Josh and not your vibrator working you to orgasm makes the whole process go much more quickly. The toy has seen a significant increase in action since he moved in.

Listening to Josh masturbating on just the other side of the wall has you hot enough that you don’t even need your favorite toy right now. You’ve just barely started stimulating your clit and you’re already ridiculously close to orgasm. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears and a light sweat has broken out across the back of your neck. You’re so wet, you can feel it leaking out of you and into your underwear. Only a few more circles and you know you’ll be cumming harder than you have in a long time.

And then it happens. From the other side of the wall, you hear Josh’s husky voice whine, “Oh fuck, Y/N!” 

Your hand stills in your pants and your jaw drops open in disbelief. Did he just say my name? You had to have heard wrong. Or maybe you were just so horny and caught up in the moment that you imagined it. 

But then, there it is again.

“Y/N! Fuck, oh my god,” followed by a much louder and lower groan. 

This time, there is no mistaking it. Josh Kiszka just moaned your name while he came. 

Your body is absolutely rigid, with the exception of your legs, which are visibly shaking. Being so close to the edge and then abruptly stopping stimulation will do that to you. 

Inhaling deeply, you attempt to center yourself and process what you just heard. Which is impossible; you’re too turned on to even have a chance of thinking rationally. The only thing going on in your mind is: Josh! Josh! Josh!

As badly as you want to just shove your hand back down your pants and finish yourself off right now, Josh’s utterance of your name has brought out a carnal desire in you that you’re positive can only be fulfilled by actual physical contact with him. And you can’t wait for it. You need it now.

So with a stroke of courage like you’ve never experienced before, you quickly get up and wash your hands in the kitchen sink, then march toward your front door and swing it open. Foregoing shoes, you walk swiftly toward the door to Josh’s apartment and rap your knuckles against the dark green wood emblazoned with the number 201.

There’s no response at first, and you’re not really surprised considering you’re calling on him right after he finished jerking himself off. So you knock again, and this time you hear him shout, “Just a second!”

As you stand outside his door, waiting for him to appear, you begin to feel butterflies in your stomach. The worries that should have popped into your head earlier are now showing themselves, and there’s a lot of them. What if he really is with a girl? What if I’m not the Y/N he’s thinking about? Why did I not change before coming over here? Is my hair a mess? Did I even put on deodorant today? What if he’s not interested?

And then the door clicks open and there stands a pink-cheeked Josh, shirtless with a pair of black sweatpants riding low on his slim hips. You can tell you’ve caught him off-guard because his eyes widen significantly when they land on you. Unable to exercise any form of self-control, you allow yourself to examine his bare torso, eyes dancing from his pecs, past his toned abdomen, to the wispy happy trail that disappears under his low-slung pants. On your way up, you ogle his muscular arms. He catches you staring, and you see the blush spread down to his chest, small red patches cropping up as he takes you in.

Clearing his throat, he says, “Y/N! Hi! Sorry, I- uh, I wasn’t expecting any visitors.”

“Yeah, that’s my bad. Sorry,” you apologize, bouncing from foot to foot. “Are- are you busy?” 

You figure this is a safe way to start the conversation. Not being too straightforward, but also making it clear that you’re here for a reason and it may take up some of his time.

Josh looks even more surprised and you can hear the shock in his voice when he too loudly exclaims, “No! No, come on in.” He moves backward and opens up the door wider, allowing you to step through the frame. 

The door shuts behind you, and you and Josh stand awkwardly in his entryway for a moment. Taking the opportunity to see how Josh lives, you glance around the living area and note that it looks exactly like you expected it to. With a layout identical to yours, it is messy, but not overly so, and cozy, with personal touches like photos and knick knacks spread throughout the room. Every inch is reminiscent of Josh. Then you catch sight of Josh’s phone, lying upside down on the sofa, like it was thrown down quickly when he got up to answer the door, and a dark green t-shirt crumpled into a ball on the floor.

The shirt reminds you of Josh’s current state of undress, and your eyes flick back to his half-naked frame. His body is more gorgeous than you imagined, and you long to put your hands on him. You feel almost predatory as you gawk at him and lick your lips.

Breaking the silence, Josh asks, “So what can I do for you, neighbor? Need to borrow a cup of sugar?” He grins at you, making eye contact for a moment, then glances away and rubs his palm along the back of his neck. 

You let out a nervous giggle at the cliche and greedily take in the sight of his newly exposed underarm. He’s so pretty, you think to yourself. 

Shaking your head, you answer, “No, um, actually I had a question for you.” 

Before you make your move, you need to be absolutely certain that Josh doesn’t have a girlfriend. You would never forgive yourself for unknowingly moving in on someone else’s significant other.

“Okay,” Josh shrugs his shoulders. “Shoot,” he says, sticking his hands in his pockets. 

You know you’re being forward, and you know this could end up being a very uncomfortable situation, but you force yourself to question, “Are you single?”

It’s not what Josh is expecting to hear. His back straightens and his eyebrows shoot up, shock evident. He hastily recovers, however, and begins to nod rapidly. “Yeah, I am. Why do you ask?” Once the words leave his mouth, you watch as he bites his bottom lip, then soothes where he bit with his tongue. The action makes your clit throb with want.

What do you say now? “That’s great, because I want to fuck you?” Definitely not. You scour your brain for a way to casually bring up your attraction to him, beginning to lose the burst of confidence that brought you here in the first place. But then, you look up to Josh’s face to see that his eyes are black, pupils fully dilated despite being in a well-lit room. Really, the only explanation for it that you can think of is desire. And you’re sure if you were to look in a mirror right now, your pupils would be dilated as well.

At last, your hunger for him overtakes your nerves and you state, “You know, the walls here are pretty thin…”

Josh’s eyes practically bulge out of his head and you watch him nervously run a hand through his hair. He doesn’t make eye contact when he finally breathes out, “Oh.”

Feeling bold, you walk a few steps forward so that you’re almost toe to toe with Josh. He audibly sucks in a breath, taken aback by your close proximity. His eyes search your face for an explanation for your closeness, while yours eagerly examine his impeccable features. You allow yourself a moment to study his nicely shaped eyebrows, rich, chocolate eyes, nose that is perfectly sized for his face, plump, pink lips, and his skin, dotted with a small number of acne scars, but glowing nevertheless. You’re dying to reach out and touch him.

Instead, you admit, “I heard you a few minutes ago...it sounded an awful lot like you were moaning my name.”

Looking up at him from under your eyelashes, you see Josh’s cheeks flush bright red. He doesn’t reply right away, just darts his eyes around the room with noticeable tension in his jaw. His hand rises up again to run through his hair, then falls to his chest where he uses his short nails to scratch across the skin there. His palm stays splayed across his chest as he focuses his stare on his feet and confesses, “Listen, I’m sorry. I know it’s weird, but I didn’t realize I was being that loud. I really hope you don’t think I’m some disgusting creep. I just- I find you really attractive and my thoughts just sort of naturally land on you when I’m je- when I’m doing that.”

Truthfully, you were not expecting Josh to readily confirm your suspicions, but you’re definitely pleased that he did not hold back. A thrill runs through your body at his words, and again, you feel a rush of wetness between your legs. Fidgeting back and forth on your feet, you unconsciously rub your thighs together.

You know that Josh witnesses the motion because he openly gawks at you and the hand on his chest abruptly falls to his side. Your eyes follow his arm, and on their way down, you notice a sizable bulge has formed in his sweatpants. A shiver runs down your spine and your heart flutters knowing he’s just as turned on as you are right now.

Ready to relieve yourself of the tension you’ve been feeling for at least 20 minutes now, you close the distance between your bodies and firmly set your palms on Josh’s chest. Not allowing him time to question your closeness, you divulge, “Actually, I thought it was pretty hot. I, uh, I wish I was able to witness it with my eyes and not just my ears. But it kind of looks like you’re ready to go again, and I know I cou-”

Josh doesn’t let you finish your sentence, placing both hands on either side of your face and crashing his lips to yours. You respond readily, tracing his full lower lip with your tongue until it parts from his top lip and allows you entrance. Busying your tongue with his, you both relax into the kiss, and he combs some hair out of your face with his fingers. Driven by pure lust, you slide your right hand down his chest, fingertips combing through the happy trail that quite frankly, makes your mouth water, then break the kiss. In a whisper, you ask, “Can I?” and gesture towards his prominent bulge. He answers with a quick nod, and you cup the tent in his pants in your palm.

Groaning into your mouth (like you hoped he would), Josh grips your ass and tugs you forward so there is no space between your bodies. Your hand is sandwiched between both of your groins, but you do your best to stroke his dick through his pants, and revel in the small sounds he emits. 

Pulling away from your mouth, Josh kisses a trail over your jaw and down your throat, lightly sucking your pulse point, then soothes the area with his tongue. Meanwhile, his right hand snakes under your shirt and lingers on the skin of your waist for just a moment, before venturing higher and cupping your breast through your thin bralette. The pad of his thumb locates your nipple through the fabric and begins rubbing slow circles, causing you to inadvertently let out a small squeal. 

Josh chuckles against your neck at the noise, but the laugh turns strained as you increase the pressure your hand is applying to his very hard member. In retaliation, his left hand finds its way under your top and lightly pinches your other nipple, both of them now achingly stiff and sensitive. Each time his fingertips make contact, you feel the pleasure shoot straight down to your pussy. 

Craving more skin to skin contact, you suddenly take a step back and yank your shirt over your head, followed directly by your flimsy bra. Josh hungrily inspects your exposed breasts for just a minute, then drags you back into him so your naked torsos are flush against each other. Pressing his lips back to yours, your tongues again battle for dominance. 

Not even a minute later, Josh begins shuffling the two of you backwards, until you find yourself in his bedroom with your legs hitting the edge of his bed. There, he encourages you onto the navy blue comforter and you scoot up so you can lie back against the soft white pillows. You’re surprised to find that his bed is neatly made, and his room is free of clutter. You kind of expected it to be a pig-sty. 

Josh steals your attention again by crawling up your body and settling himself between your legs. Instead of kissing you, he attaches his lips to your collarbone, where he sucks for a second, then works his way down to the swell of your boob. His mouth closes around your nipple and sucks, causing you to breathe out a sigh of satisfaction.

You wrap your legs around his waist and buck up into him, hoping he’ll get the hint and return the favor by grinding down into you. He does, and you close your eyes and throw your head back against the pillow. 

Josh switches sides and begins lavishing your other nipple with his tongue, while you find the waistband of his pants and reach inside, quickly discovering that he decided against wearing underwear today. You’re not disappointed by the easy access he’s provided to his thick cock. 

Grasping it in your palm, you give his dick a few strokes, then run your thumb over the tip in circles. Josh appreciates this, as indicated by the slow, “Fuckkk,” he breathes out. You continue your motions, loving watching Josh react to your touch almost as much as the feel of his mouth on your bare skin. 

When he’s had enough of torturing your nipples, Josh’s mouth descends down your torso, kissing a circle around your belly button, and continues lower until he reaches the top of your leggings. He silently asks for permission with his eyes, and when you give it to him, he slips his fingers under the waistband and slides both the pants and your (very damp) underwear down your legs. The movement forces you to let go of his cock, and you mourn the loss of contact. 

You’re not upset for long, however, because, after Josh tosses your clothing to the ground, he positions himself on his stomach between your thighs, face lined up with your dripping heat. He lets out a deep groan at the sight of your exposed lower half. Teasing you, he attaches his lips to your inner thigh, kissing down it and toward your center before moving to the other side. This time, when he reaches the top of your inner thigh, he begins sucking on the skin, causing a gasp to escape your lips. He doesn’t let up until he’s left a dark purple bruise, which you’re certain will sting tomorrow and remind you of the fantasy come true that’s occurring right now. 

After he’s satisfied with the hickey, Josh pushes your thighs apart so you’re spread wide open in front of him. You see a small smirk form on his lips right before he leans forward and licks a slow stripe up your slit. As soon as his tongue touches your clit, your back arches off the mattress and a quiet whimper sounds from your mouth. He grins against you at your response and repeats the gesture multiple times in quick succession. When he adds his fingers to the mix, one gently probing your entrance while his tongue’s attention stays on your clit, your hands fly to his head and clutch his curls in bliss. 

He continues licking and sucking your bundle of nerves in perfect time with the thrust of his fingers until you’re panting and absolutely desperate for more. You know he’s also craving more, because he’s begun grinding his hips into the mattress in dire need of friction. 

Giving his curls a small tug, you watch as he lifts his head and darts his tongue out to lick your wetness off his lips. He stares back, waiting for a queue from you on what you want next.

Once you catch your breath, you pull him up for a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips, then practically beg, “Josh, I really, really need you to fuck me right now. Please.”

Not wasting a second, Josh scurries off the bed and speedily removes his pants, his rigid cock springing free from its confines. You shamelessly stare as he strolls over to his nightstand and retrieves a condom, then kneels next to your body on the mattress. 

It’s in this moment that it dawns on you that you’re about to sleep with the boy you’ve had a crush on for months now. The thought makes your stomach do a flip-flop in your abdomen. You allow yourself to hope that something else may bloom from this, that this isn’t the last time you’ll be naked in Josh Kiszka’s bed.

Once Josh has finished putting on the condom, he nudges his way back between your legs and leans forward so that your body is supporting most of his weight. You delight in the feel of his naked form crushing yours. Holding himself up with one hand on the mattress, he reconnects your lips and licks into your mouth, giving you the most sensual kiss yet. As he kisses you, he reaches down and grabs hold of himself, tapping your clit with the tip of his dick and making you let out a soft moan.

Lips breaking away from yours, Josh looks you directly in the eye and asks, “Are you sure?”

Appreciating his need for explicit consent, you smile at him and wind your arms around the back of his neck. Playing with the curls there, you reply, “Yes, definitely,” and pull him down so you can busy your lips on his neck. 

While you’re sucking your own hickey onto his skin, he lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushes in until you can feel his balls against your ass. You mewl against his neck at the feeling of fullness and fist the comforter in your hands. He feels so good you could cry.

Once he’s fully seated in you, Josh blows out a shaky breath, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head. He stays still for a moment, giving you some time to adjust to his length, before pulling out slightly and thrusting back into your heat. His rhythm is slow at first, but you don’t mind since it gives you some time to just feel him. And he appears to be enjoying himself, if his eyes being clamped shut and his mouth wide open is any indication.

When he does decide to pick up the pace, the noises your bodies make as he slips in and out of you amplify. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find it hot. Looking down to where you are connected intensifies the experience even more, the sight of your slick all over his cock and in his pubic hair making you clench around him.

Josh groans at the sudden tightness and follows your line of sight. “Holy shit, you’re so wet. Oh my god,” he whimpers. Then, he drags the fingers of his right hand down your body, runs them through your wetness, and begins massaging your clit. 

You’re on cloud nine, and you never want to leave. You truly didn’t know sex could be this fantastic. Josh is attending to your every need like no one else has before, and you’re beyond happy that you made the decision to knock on his door.

His pace picks up even more and you lift your hips off the beds to meet his, thrust for thrust. Hoping to pull him in even closer, you dig your heels into his ass and use it as leverage for your thrusts. Doing this changes the angle just the smallest amount, but now there’s a delicious pressure being applied to the perfect place inside you every time Josh fills you up. This combination of his cock hitting your g-spot and his thumb on your clit has you quickly approaching climax, your face inadvertently scrunching up and your breathing becoming more labored.

Josh notices the changes in your facial expression and breathing and lowers himself to plant a kiss on your lips. Speeding up his motions on your clit, he kisses over to your ear and whispers, “That’s it, baby. Let me see what you look like when you cum.”

The words set something off inside you and you reach your peak, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly as a loud gasp leaves your lips. Eyes screwed shut, you moan out, “Josh! Fuck!” and feel yourself gush around him. Your orgasm is prolonged by Josh continuing his movements, making your legs shake and sweat bead at your forehead. The feeling is so intense, you have to swat at Josh’s hand to get him to stop petting your clit and overstimulating you.

Your orgasm has caused your pussy to clench around Josh, and you know he’s affected because his thrusts start to become more erratic. Even though you’re absolutely spent, you reach up to nibble on his ear and run your nails down his back, encouraging him to let go. He plunges into you just a few more times, and then he’s letting out a low grunt and calling out your name in a strained voice. 

Josh doesn’t pull out right away, remaining inside you while the both of you come down from your highs and catch your breath. He kisses you, slow and gentle this time, making you feel all sorts of things that it is definitely too soon for you to be feeling. When he finally pulls away, he smiles down at you, then pulls out and gets up to dispose of the condom. 

He’s back a second later, flopping beside you on his bed and tossing an arm over his forehead. Still grinning, he turns to you and says, “God, that was so hot. Definitely better than I imagined.”

A contented hum sounds from your lips. “Yeah? I’m glad. You can go ahead and add that to your spank bank.”

Josh chuckles at your joke, then extends his hand to play with your hair. Looking at him now, you know that you can’t allow this to be your last time together, and so, you decide to make a little confession of your own.

“I think about you, too, sometimes. When I- when I touch myself, I think about you, too.” 

Josh looks surprised for only a second, and then a light giggle leaves his mouth. 

“Do you happen to own a vibrator, Y/N?” he questions, a smirk etched on his face. 

Cheeks burning, you look away in embarrassment, but still confirm his suspicions with a small, “Yes.”

At your answer, Josh’s face lights up in a full blown grin and he drapes his body over you once more, lips hovering over yours. With a mischievous gleam in his eye, he playfully jests, “You know, thin walls go both ways. The sound of small appliances, say, vibrators, travels pretty easily. And it sounds like yours gets quite a bit of use.”

You know it’s stupid to feel embarrassed, since you’re naked in his bed, but you can’t help averting your eyes from his.

Now giggling at your awkwardness, Josh taps your nose with his to get you to look at him again. “Hey,” he laughs, “Next time you’re thinking of whipping that vibrator out, you can just come see me instead. I’ll take care of you.”

Laughing along with him, you jokingly whisper back, “I’ll keep that in mind,” and seal your lips to his, feeling unusually grateful that you were given such a noisy neighbor.

[artificialqueens]

Don't Just Stand There Staring Honey (Try to Move Your Feet) (Taywhora) - Pinkgrapefruit

Georgie lets out one long sigh and lets her head fall back, dirty blonde hair falling onto the couch. “I. Need. A. Date.” She repeats, exasperated. “My friend is getting married in a few months and I need a date for the wedding.”

Tayce raises an eyebrow, repositioning herself on the couch so she can actually look at Georgie. “Georgina Aurora, I’m sure you can find yourself a date,” she smirks, “A’whora.”

A/N -

for my love ortega.

may our clowning be long and prosperous.

*

It’s times like this when the flat feels too small. Tayce has just gotten out of the shower, water rolling down her calves as she pads down the hall to her room and she can see Georgie doing her Chloe Ting workout - laptop being played through the TV. She’s wearing these tiny little shorts that leave her surprisingly tan legs on full display and her sports bra can barely be considered a sports bra - it’s a wonder the people in the flat across the street haven’t said something.

They’d snatched this place up the second it came on the market - the wall of glass windows in the living room making the two-bed London flat feel bigger than it was (at the time at least). It had been the natural progression from their tiny box flat they’d shared for the last three years of uni.

After living on top of each other for three years, they’d felt like queens in their new place, neither of them sleeping on a pullout sofa bed.

They’d alternated (of course) though Georgie tended to whine if she wasn’t feeling the sofa bed so on occasion they’d both end up in the double bed. By the end, on occasion turned into whenever she was drunk, sad, lonely, uncomfortable, on her period or bored. For all her jokes, Tayce wasn’t really complaining.

She tears her eyes away from Georgie’s ass and hurries into her room before she soaks the hallway rug, too scared of the blonde’s temper to risk ruining another of her interior design choices.

She presses play on Spotify and lays the towel on her unmade bed, perching carefully on the edge before beginning to moisturise her clean-shaven legs.

*

“I need a date.”

“What?” Tayce yells, eyes fixed on Mortal Kombat but brain anywhere else.

“I need a date,” Georgie replies, perching on the arm of the sofa and positioning her tennis skirt in a way so as not to show her knickers - she never knows when Tayce’s videogame friends might be able to see her (she once flashed one of them and it’s not something she wants to repeat).

There’s a huff of breath from Tayce before she gives up and stops moving, allowing her opponent to kill her. She sets the PlayStation controller down and faces the blonde, confusion clear on her face.

“I repeat, what?” The softness of her welsh accent slips in at times like this - something that six years of living in London hasn’t quite been able to take away.

Georgie lets out one long sigh and lets her head fall back, dirty blonde hair falling onto the couch. “I. Need. A. Date.” She repeats, exasperated. “My friend is getting married in a few months and I need a date for the wedding.”

Tayce raises an eyebrow, repositioning herself on the couch so she can actually look at Georgie. “Georgina Aurora, I’m sure you can find yourself a date,” she smirks, “A’whora.”

It’s a joke from uni about Georgie’s innate ability to find the one person in the club who’s only there for a shag (and then go home with them).

Georgie pouts. She bats her lash extensions and runs a hand through her hair, the other running down her thigh. She knows what she’s doing is flustering Tayce (that’s why she’s doing it) and really tries to play it up.

“They’ll just want me for sex though,” she whines, “They won’t get me like you.” She bats her lashes one more time and sees the exact moment Tayce melts, a pretty blush finally becoming visible.

“Just for you.”

Georgie cups a hand behind her ear, wincing as if she’s having trouble. “What was that? I didn’t quite hear you,” she jokes and it makes Tayce bat an arm at her.

“I’ll do it for you Brat.”

The blonde bounces up, her tennis skirt flying up to show her lace knickers. “You’re the best!” She squeals before pressing a kiss to Tayce’s cheek, “Veronica will be so happy!”

*

“Have you finished in the shower?” Georgie calls from the hallway, snapping Tayce back into the moment.

“Is the shower still going?” Tayce shouts back sardonically and she hears Georgie hit her door on the way past. “Bitch.” She calls out before falling backwards onto her bed. She can see her outfit out of the corner of her eye and it twists her stomach in knots just looking at it.

It’s pretty simple, grey plaid cigarette trousers - a white shirt with red stitching and a matching suit jacket, but somehow it feels like Chinese handcuffs.

The telltale clunk of the waterpipes tells her that Georgie’s started her shower and she sits up again, feeling around on her bedside table for her hairbrush.

She goes through the motions of getting ready until Georgie is banging on her door again. She yanks it open, intending to say something cutting or at least sarcastic but she finds that it’s quite difficult to speak when your jaw is on the floor. Her’s certainly is.

Georgie’s dress is red satin with a sinfully high slit and her lipstick might just be the same shade of crimson currently on Tayce’s own lips. That might just be wishful thinking.

“Wow’” she stutters out, eyes trailing up and down. She gets caught on the wispy hairs that have come undone from Georgia’s chignon and has to catch herself because she wants to wrap it around her tongue and there isn’t enough time to unpack that.

“Wow, yourself,” Georgie says with a smirk, her tongue darting out between perfectly painted lips. She holds a hand out and Tayce gives her her forearm so she can walk the blonde out of the flat.

*

They blast Taylor Swift in the car, screaming the lyrics to Out of the Woods while on the A23. Tayce pulls them into the churchyard in Brighton and they both look at the amassing crowd with sighs.

“Damn baby, it’s like half your high school is here,” jokes Tayce as she touches up her powder in the fold-down mirror of the rental car.

Georgie smiles softly, “you don’t wanna meet half my high school,” she replies, remembering how she felt in the Nottingham public school system. She’s grateful, in a way, that Veronica’s new man is from Brighton so they don’t have to return to her hometown.

Tayce insists on coming round to open her car door and they stand arm in arm in front of the church for a moment before they go in. It’s closer to a cathedral than a church but from what Tayce knows, Veronica’s family could afford that. There’s a welcome sign out the front and it makes them both smile.

“Green and Blacks,” Tayce chuckles, “clever.”

Georgie looks at her and smiles, “Joe owns a coffee bar in Brighton and he hired her to sing one day,” she explains, finding the story sweet despite herself. Tayce gently sets her head on top of Georgie’s.

“Bless ‘em,” she hears Tayce murmur. She coughs quickly and they both straighten up. Just as she goes to fiddle with Tayce’s collar she smirks.

“Everyone thinks we’ve been dating for six months,” she whispers, rising up on her toes so her breath brushes Tayce’s ear.

If Tayce curses, Georgie doesn’t hear it. She’s too busy swinging her hips as she walks away.

*

“Tayceeeee,” comes a whine from the bathroom. None of the letters sound quite right but the meaning is there so Tayce puts down her coffee and slides a well-worn bookmark into an equally well-worn copy of pride and prejudice that she pretends she doesn’t read before hauling herself off the sofa in the direction of the bathroom.

“Georginaaaa,” she mocks back once it’s clear that nothing serious is going on.

Georgie has almost a full face of makeup on, sans lips and eyelashes but she’s still trying her very best to bat what she has. She’s sat on the counter, feet in the sink and toe separators on her feet as she finishes the final coat on her dusty pink toenails.

“Going out?” Tayce asks, a casual eyebrow raised and a soft smirk playing on her lips.

Georgie brightens up, “Astina and Bimini invited me out clubbing,” she explains animatedly. “I get to wear that dress I’ve been showing you but I want the rest to be perfect.

‘That dress’ in question is a slinky little number that’s been on the dress-form in Georgie’s bedroom/office/sewing room/dungeon for months. It’s baby pink and ruched and while Tayce doesn’t know any of the technical terms (she was not in the fashion school, nor does she claim she was) she knows it’s going to look gorgeous.

“Sounds fun,” she replies, though her tone is questioning and Georgie must pick up on that because she holds out a pair of flash eyelashes and an applicator with a smile.

“Can you put them on for me?”

They both know very well that Georgie can put on her own lashes - in the depths of the A’whora days, she wore them nearly every day and used to leave the house before Tayce had drunk enough coffee to feel alive. Nevertheless, Tayce leans forward, one hand holding Georgie’s cheek gently so she won’t move her head and the other hovering a lash over her eye. Her thumb strokes the prominent cheekbone under the soft skin and powder and Georgie’s breath flutters over Tayce’s pulse point.

The moment lasts forever but not quite long enough and Tayce leaves in a hurry, going back to Jane Austen and strong espresso.

She catches Georgie before she leaves, eyes trailing up and down her body appreciatively, though knowing Georgie likes her bike shorts just as much.

“For the love of god George please don’t fight anyone in the kebab shop - we’re running out of places,” she scolds, “And don’t get grumpy when you’re tired, save that for me - the girls won’t know how to handle you.” She feels like she’s wrapping a child up to send them to school but she just unlocks the door for Georgie and tells her that she’ll wait up.

Georgie pecks her on the cheek and leaves. Tayce turns the PlayStation on and tries to forget about the blonde in the pink dress grinding against half of London.

*

Tayce skitters across the gravel until she reaches Georgie, a hand wrapping around the satin covered waist as they queue to enter the church. She takes a deep breath and lets it out through her nose. She’s never been good with surprises.

Georgie notices (she always does), feels Tayce’s fingertips pressing into her ribs and gently removes the arm, intertwining their fingers instead so she can softly brush her thumb up and down Tayce’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, head falling against Tayce’s chest briefly. Tayce feels her heart rate slow from the contact and sighs, inhaling the scent of Georgie’s conditioner.

“It’s okay,” She uses her free arm to pat Georgie’s bum, trying to move the blonde along as they near the front of the line into the church.

At the very front of the line, just inside the ornate doors, is an older looking woman with chestnut coloured hair and a lavender chiffon dress. Georgie’s face lights up when she spots her and the woman gives her a motherly smile before embracing the blonde.

“Georgina,” she gushes, “it’s been so long.”

Georgie at least has the propriety to blush and she ducks her head abashedly. “Mrs Green- Margret,” she responds, “I’ve missed you.”

Mrs Green looks up, spotting Tayce hovering by the door and smiles lovingly, beckoning her over. “And who’s this lovely lady,” she asks Georgie with a bemused chuckle, watching as the girl blushes an even deeper red.

Tayce sees this as her moment and slides up next to her, hand wrapping around her waist, cheek resting on the top of her head. “I’m Tayce, Georgie’s girlfriend. It’s lovely to meet you Mrs Green and we’re so happy to be here.”

It slips out all too easy and even if she wasn’t prepared for this situation, somehow she is.

Mrs Green smiles. “Please, call me Margret,” she tells them graciously. “We’ll catch up later Georgina,” she informs them and then points them through another set of double doors.

They seat themselves towards the back of the pews, not wanting to encroach on family seating and Georgie twists her hands together until Tayce takes one of them in her own.

“Margret was like a mother figure to me,” she explains quietly, thoughtfully, “I feel bad for how out of touch I’ve become.”

Tayce just rubs her back, unsure of what to say.  

*

She grew up popular. Her blonde hair was always pin-straight and her eyebrows spent half of high school looking like someone had drawn them on with melted chocolate but that was in vogue.

People loved her and feared her in half measure and she used it to her advantage, getting what she wanted and feeling like she was part of an American high school movie while she did it. That was until she got too high on her own bullshit.

She forgot she was from Worksop, she forgot she has friends from popularity instead of just her personality and she forgot that not everything always went well for the mean girls in the movies.

She came out. She’d known she was gay since she was in primary school when she used to want to play mummies and daddies and always asked to be the daddy. (Until her best friend Jade told her that girls couldn’t be daddies, because daddies couldn’t marry other daddies and girls have to marry daddies).

She came out and suddenly her mean girl personality was abrasive and arrogant, and she had to come to terms with who she was all over again.

Then she met Veronica.

Veronica was lovely and sweet and the captain of the theatre club - who wanted Aurora to help with sewing costumes.

“Call me Georgie,” the blonde has said. She’d wanted people to call her Aurora because she wanted to be special and Georgina was too plain. Apparently 'special’ meant being called a dyke and losing all your friends though, or so she figured.

Veronica did make her feel special.

She’d invite her round for tea - to her house on the nicer side of town - where they’d eat freezer waffles and pizza that tasted a little bit like cardboard but also like home. Margret Green would teach her to crochet and help with designs. And slowly, Worksop felt like home again.

And then she met Tayce - and learnt what it truly meant to feel special.

*

The ceremony passes quick enough, Tayce’s hand in Georgie’s. They only time they let go is when Georgie has to dig around in her purse for a tissue - the wedding not getting to her, but Tayce.

It’s a short drive to the gazebo for dinner but they still don’t let go of each other’s hands, Georgie’s wrapped over Tayce’s on the gearstick.

They finally let go when they enter the venue for the reception. The ceiling is lit with fairy lights that cast an ethereal glow and there’s ivy in the exposed fittings. There are four long tables set up and the seating chart is hell to find but they eventually spot 'Georgie and Tayce’ opposite Mrs Green making Georgie blush that they’re on the same table as the Bride and Groom.

“I mean I’m honoured,” She mutters to Tayce under her breath as they navigate the chairs, “I just didn’t realise I meant this much to her and honestly I would have worn a nicer dress.”

“Shush you,” Tayce replies, pulling a rustic looking chair out for her. She gently pushes it back in, taking her own seat and patting Georgie’s thigh comfortingly. “You look hot as shit.”

Georgie blushes but suddenly Margret Green sits down and she feels sixteen again. She ducks her head almost shyly and Margret chuckles.

“I’m not going to tell you and your girlfriend off Georgina,” she tells them both, nodding to Tayce who wonders if she might be sweating under the weight of Mrs Green’s gaze. Margret never quite stopped calling her her full name - it took long enough to break the habit of calling her Georgina Aurora. Sometimes you have to pick your battles.

“I know Mam,” Georgie replies, straightening back up with a smile.

“That’s better dear.”

*

They’ve taken a break from socialisation and are leaning against the bar - the party in full swing behind them. Georgie swirls the stick in her Vodka Cranberry while Tayce leisurely sips on her Mojito. The faintly golden light of the gazebo casts shadows on her face that make her look almost ethereal and Georgie just can’t stop looking.

“You enjoying yourself?” Tayce asks softly, and Georgie blushes under her gaze, nervous she’s been caught staring. She taps the stick against the side of her near-empty glass a few times and sighs.

“It’s nice,” she muses, looking over her shoulder at the rabble. “Weird, but nice.” There’s an odd tone to her voice and Tayce nods for her to continue, quietly sipping her drink.

“I guess I’m a little angry,” Georgie admits after a short pause. “About why they can all accept you with me now - but they couldn’t when I really needed them to."

Tayce reaches across the gap between the chairs, frowning slightly as she brushes a thumb under Georgie’s eye. The pad of it slides along her jaw again before Tayce brings her hand back to her lap and Georgie has to hold back a sigh at the loss.

"I’m sorry baby,” she replies, “I know that doesn’t help fifteen-year-old Georgie but I really am.” Her hand moves back up to cup the blondes Cheek and Georgie brings her own hand up to hold it there. She leans into it, revelling in the warmth.

“It’s okay. Really, it is. I have you now."

The pad of Tayce’s thumb brushes Georgie’s painted bottom lip and she may have been leaning in but Georgie suddenly sits bolt upright. Her eyes are wide and Tayce drops her hand reflexively before grabbing the hand in Georgie’s lap.

"Shit,” Georgie mumbles, eyes still staring at a figure in a suit a few feet away. She tugs on the hand Tayce is holding and drags her over to the dancefloor.

“That’s my ex.” She tells Tayce who’s just looking at her oddly. “He’ll try and hit on me so you,” she pats Tayce’s chest with a wink,“ are going to dance with me.”

Tayce sighs before smiling at the proposition. “Well it’s not exactly Salsa music but I’ll give it a go honey.”

*

They’re pressed together, chest to chest in the kitchen. As Tayce inhales, chest heaving, it sends vibrations through Georgie’s body.

Tayce has switched the speaker on out of boredom, dancing around where they used to have a dining table and showing off all her moves. She had gotten bored back in uni and used to frequent the salsa society on her free evenings. They’d all made jokes about it but it’s quite clear that none of her friends had taken it seriously when she sees the awe painted on Georgie’s features. She’d offered a hand and the blonde had taken it, allowing herself to be pulled close as they worked through the basics, rocking back and forth.

She spins Georgie but makes sure to pull her close again as the traditional salsa music finishes and a new song comes on.

“Don’t just stand there staring, honey. Try to move your feet,” Tayce sings along, her voice breathy but it doesn’t have to be stronger when her lips are brushing Georgie’s ear. She lets her free hand trace patterns into the parts of the blonde’s back not covered by her flimsy crop top.

“I can make it nice and easy,” she hums, looking down to see Georgie’s eyes are half-lidded, a coy smile playing on her lips. “I'ma take the lead. They ain’t even looking at you, baby."

She drops Georgie but catches her almost immediately - a move that makes the blonde intuitively grip her tighter.

"They’re looking at me."

Georgie locks her eyes on Tayce, not noticing if they drop a bit towards her lips. "Fuck.”

*

It may not be a salsa but it turns out that Tayce’s dancing skills don’t just lie in the world of Latin.

She pulls Georgie close to her - as she does whenever she has an excuse - and they sway to the music together. It’s reminiscent of the forties - a song for soldiers to dance to with their wives and all the couples are on the floor slow-dancing together.

“Impeccable timing,” Tayce whispers in Georgie’s ear, enjoying the way she shivers and yet moves even closer into Tayce.  She always seems to have her bold moments and then goes back to letting Tayce be the big, strong night in shining armour.

Not that she minds.

As Georgie is a few inches shorter, she can tuck her head nicely under Tayce’s chin and it gives her the perfect vantage point to hear the way Tayce’s heartrate seems to be skipping beats.

She lifts her chin, looking up into Tayce’s green eyes and seeing them staring straight at her, a soft smile playing on the taller girls lips.

Tayce gets a funny feeling in her stomach, like she’s ingested butterflies and they’re trying to get out. Suddenly it all makes sense.

She places a hand under Georgie’s chin to hold her gaze and just smiles.

“I love you, you know,” she whispers, feeling like the music is all but silent.

*

They were drunk, hands travelling to places they wouldn’t normally dare - Tayce’s fingers trailing the lines of Georgie’s underwear through her dress.

The blonde giggles, hiccuping before hoisting herself up on the kitchen counter and pulling her shoes off. They land somewhere that will undoubtedly be a nuisance later but she’s too gone to care.

Tayce stands in between her legs, each hand resting on a smooth ivory thigh. “I can’t believe you shouted at that girl,” she says, lips pressing together as if she’s trying to look disapproving.

Georgie smirks, running a playful finger across the cut of Tayce’s jaw.

“She was looking at you,” she explains as if that’s a perfectly reasonable excuse and it almost makes Tayce chuckle. Instead, the welsh girl mimes biting Georgie’s finger, getting the blonde to laugh.

“She was the kebab girl… The cashier!” She pumps a fist triumphantly at remembering the right word. “She was the cashier. She was meant to look at us.”

“Noooo,” Georgie whines. “You’re not getting it, she was looking at you. Just you.” Tayce quirks her eyebrows, clearly still not getting it and her obliviousness makes Georgie lean forward to rest her forehead on Tayce’s shoulder. A sigh escapes her lips as she wonders if this is how Tayce feels putting up with her.

“She wanted you.” She states as plainly as she can. Her voice drops to just above a whisper, “she wanted you.”

It’s only then that she realises just how close they are - how she can feel Tayce’s hands on her thighs and the smell of daiquiris on her breath.

Their noses meet before their lips do until Tayce tilts her head just a little bit more and then it feels like something inside Georgie has snapped.

She pulls away, the back of her head bumping against the kitchen cabinet as she tries to reconcile what she just did with her own feelings.

It was good, too good, and it scared the living daylights out of her.

She slides sideways off the counter, leaving Tayce standing there - her dumb drunk face frozen in confusion.

*

Georgie’s eyes widen and then she shuts them, taking a deep breath. When they open again, tayce is still looking at her - though some of the sparkle in her eyes has dimmed and she suddenly feels the need to put all of it back.

She leans up, lets their lips brush against each other in a chaste kiss to test the waters but before she can pull away, Tayce has her bottom lip between her own.

She’s sure they’re being stared at but she can’t bring herself to care because she’s at a wedding and somehow she’s kissing the prettiest woman in the room.

Georgie finally pulls away, lips slightly swollen and lipstick smudging at the edges. her eyes are wet but they’re so bright.

“I love you too,” she murmurs, “ you fucking twat.”

[kareofbears]

plainly in truth, chapter 1/5

“Without you around, it's sorta like stuff is just kinda...bleh."

—

Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.

read on ao3 or below the cut :)

The sweat on the back of Ryuji’s neck is thick as he climbs the stairs to his apartment after a lengthy run.

It’s hot for spring, mild for summer, and now that it’s late June, it’s finally starting to teeter into real heat. He escalated slowly, gripping the guard rail like an old man to make sure his legs don’t give out, in no rush to head back to an empty apartment. His mom’s been doing back to back shifts, businesses booming like it does during this time of the year.

Normally, that would make him miserable. Nothing worse than hopping back from a day of fun shit only to come back to an empty living space with laundry piled to the nines and the TV left running. He doesn’t blame his mom because he’s not an asshole, but he never dealt well with being alone. But nowadays, he’s actually starting to like it. Crave it. Maybe a little too much.

It’s easier to deal with being alone than getting that sinking feeling he gets whenever he talks to his friends.

Shoving his hand in his basketball shorts, he pulls out his keys when something makes him pause. The plastic plant beside the entrance had been moved. Ryuji squints. Quietly, he grabs the knob and turns. It’s unlocked.

“Hey.”

Ryuji lets out a frustrated sigh, tension leaving his shoulders as he kicks the door closed. “Fucking hell. How’d you get in here?”

Seeing Ann sit primly with her legs crossed in a dining table that’s barely big enough to put two plates down evokes a feeling of nostalgia in him. She holds a key between her fingers idly. “Spare key hasn’t changed since we were thirteen.”

He walks to the fridge, pulls out a carton of milk and drinks it straight, ignoring her grimace. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he offers it to her.

“Hard pass.��

“Suit yourself,” he shrugs, putting it back in the fridge. “I’m gonna shower. I think we might have some chips in the cupboards if you want some. Might be stale though.”

When Ann speaks again, her tone is flat. “You haven’t been hanging out with us. Or even talking to us.”

He tries not to let the annoyance show in his face too much. “Yeah, well, what part of ‘I need some alone time’ was confusing to you?”

Wood creaks, and he can feel her presence right behind him. “Cut the crap, Sakamoto. Something happened, I know it did. It’s not like you for your big mouth to be shut like this.”

Shaking his head, he strides to his room, praying that Ann will take the hint.

She doesn’t. “Okay, so I’ll just keep talking until something happens.” She leans against his door frame as he rummages for a change of clothes, listing off with her fingers. “It’s summer vacation, so it’s not a school thing. Phantom Thief stuff has been done for a while, so it’s not that either. I saw your mom last week, and she’s doing great. Congratulate her on the promotion for me, by the way. And the only other thing in your life that’s important is—” he hears her pause suddenly. “Are you and Akira doing okay?”

The sudden sharpness in her voice is enough to make his irritation ebb away for a second. “We’re fine,” he answers, pulling a probably clean shirt from the bottom of his drawer. He knows just how much she’s invested in their relationship. She’s pretty much a third member given how desperate she is to make them work. “I would’ve told you if we weren’t.”

“Thank god,” she breathes. “So what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he rolls his eyes. “A big fat load of nothing with nothing sprinkled on top. You want me to say it again?”

“If it’s nothing, then why aren’t you over the moon that Akira’s finally visiting tomorrow?”

His stomach does a weird flop inside of him. He can’t tell if it’s a good flop or a bad one. “I’m over the moon,” he defends. “I’m crazy excited.”

“Then show it!”

“Okay! Damn, sorry I wasn’t happy enough for you.” Giving up on finding clean shorts, he picks one up from the floor and hopes it isn’t too gross. “I’m headed to the shower.” He rounds on her, giving her a glare. “And do not tell Akira that anything’s going on with me, ‘cause there isn’t anything going on. You’re just gonna make him worry for no reason and he’s gonna be all—” he frowns, overexaggerated. “—About this, so cool it.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. He won’t hear about it from me.” Ann gives him a long stare, and he refuses to look away. “You sure you’re okay?” she asks, softer this time.

“Never been better. Now scram.”

“Good. See you tomorrow, and don’t be late!” she calls as she marches through his apartment, foot out the door. “Noon! Leblanc!”

“I got it!” he yells back.

When the lock clicks back into place, Ryuji leans his back against the wall, letting his eyes slide shut. Is he that obvious that Ann would notice? He rubs his eyes with palms, frustrated. If Ann noticed, Akira’s definitely going to notice, and that isn’t allowed. He’ll just have to do better.

Going into the bathroom, flicking on the shower, he realizes he forgot his towel in his bedroom. Stupid Ann, distracting him.

Padding back to his room, he nabs it from the side of his bed, refusing to look at the letter collecting dust on his desk as he flicks the light off once more.

—

Akira came home to a face-full of streamers, two pots of curry, and six arms tackling him. Smiles and hugs were passed like a bottle of wine after a war has been won, and Akira shrugs it all off like he isn’t soaking up each and every exclamation of how much they miss him for a rainy day. Morgana gets his fair amount of head scratches, Akira gets enough noogies to warrant a concussion, and even Ryuji somehow manages to forget his problems for approximately three minutes.

It’s evening now, and while everyone had already left (not after slamming down two plates each and Yusuke brazenly asking for tupperware after the fact), Ryuji decided to linger.

“So,” he starts, sleeves rolled up as he washes the dishes while Akira dries. It might not look like it, but he doesn’t mind doing his chores; especially not with the way they both purposefully knock their knuckles against each other whenever they pass a plate between themselves.

“So,” Akira repeats. “I’m home. That’s cool, huh?” Even with eighteen layers of nonchalance layered on top of each other, there’s no hiding the lilt in his voice.

“Pretty damn cool,” he rinses a mug and hands it to him. Ryuji pauses as he watches Akira dry, lip quirked up. “I like seeing you like this.”

“Cleaning?”

“No, you bastard.” He reaches forward, unable to help himself as he pinches his cheek. “Smiley.”

Akira slaps his hand away. “I’m always happy,” he says, voice fond.

“I didn’t say happy, now did I? I said—” Ryuji wipes both hands on his jeans before pinching his cheek with both hands. “Smiley!”

He doesn’t fight back this time; instead, he lets Ryuji knead his face. “Your hands are wet,” he complains, slightly slurred.

“Suck it up.” His skin is mesmerizingly soft. Probably softer than even a girl’s. He would hold him like this all night if he’d let him. “This saves you from washing your face tonight, so you’re welcome.”

With one last tug, he reluctantly sets him free. Akira’s face is red and blotchy from the assault, but somehow he pulls it off because of course he does. “Thanks,” he deadpans.

“Don’t sweat it, dude. You know I got you,” he laughs, and for a second, he feels good. Light. Being with Akira does that to him, a pendant that wards off all evil. The pendant must’ve had some fine print in the contract though, because his stomach drops again when he remembers again. Ryuji turns around and starts scrubbing the pan harder than he needs to. Chill out, chill out, chill out.

Arms encircle his waist. “Sojiro’s gonna smite us if we don’t finish these before he opens tomorrow,” Ryuji says.

“I know.” A chin hooks around his shoulder blade, sliding in place. A perfect fit. “We’ll get to it.”

Ryuji leans back, far enough to smell the shampoo in his hair. He breathes in deep. It’s not what he’s used to, probably different brands in his hometown, but it still smells nice.

With the water still running, a group of businessmen’s laughter booming from just outside the cafe, Ryuji nearly says it. To take that weight off of his weakened knees and share some of the burden with someone who’s never complained about carrying some of his baggage. It would be embarrassing, humiliating, fucking mortifying, but it would be better than this, right?

He opens his mouth. “Missed you,” is what comes out instead.

“Missed you more, I think.” A beat passes, and then Akira continues, quietly: “You don’t know how good it feels to be back.”

That was all it took. The final piece, the last lock. The words he needed to convince him that this was the right thing to do. If he was on the fence of whether or not to tell Akira, this was the tug that took him over the edge. Because Akira came here for one reason: to have fun. To feel good again. To feel like Akira again. Is Ryuji really going to be the one to shit all over that? To fuck up his summer vacation with his problems again?

Yeah. Fuck that.

He wishes he can pull Akira impossibly closer. “Welcome home.”

It can wait until he leaves. After that, the world will just have to explode, taking him with it.

—

Ryuji’s in bed that night, tossing and turning, blanket tangled in his legs and head underneath his pillow, when he finally caves.

Smacking around for his phone, he pulls it to his face, squinting against the bright light.

SR: futaba

The response was immediate.

SF: what SR: that was fast. whatre you doing up SF: im always up. why are YOU up SR: just wanted to talk SF: ok

He waits a few moments to see if she’d continue the conversation. She doesn’t.

SR: hows school? SF: ?????? who cares, its three am SR: i care SF: ugh, go to sleep. we’re meeting tomorrow anyway SR: yeah but you dont talk about school during group meetings much SF: alright weirdo SF: schools cool. people mostly leave me alone, and i think akira must’ve tipped off kawakami cause she is wayyyy too nice to me even after bullying her in front of the class SR: what did you do lmfao SF: she said that whoever could recite pi to ten decimal points can get a bonus ten percent in the final SF: and i kept going until the bell rang SR: damn! SF: its mostly okay though. better than i thought it’d be for sure SR: and how about actual school stuff SR: like classes. Math, science, english, all that shit. SF: sheesh, easiest part no doubt. could do all that stuff in my sleep SR: really? even though youre a year behind? SF: uh yeah? i could be eight years behind and still dunk on these clowns with one hand tied behind my back and watching a live stream

Ah, right. Futaba’s a literal genius. As in ‘Make A Documentary Of Her In Twenty Years In A Movie He’d Never Watch But Makoto Would Love’ kind of genius. He forgot.

SR: nice SR: thanks, im gonna sleep now SF: kk see you SF: (¯﹃¯)

—

“Okay, this is getting a little ridiculous,” Ryuji says when he opens the door to his apartment.

Ann is sitting in his dining chair once again, this time donned in hot pink shades and a comically big sun hat. He tries not to let annoyance and panic flare inside him. He loves her, because of course he does, but he was banking on stocking up some energy and alone time before they hit the road. Maybe even shed a couple of frustrated tears, who knows? As long as he’s alone, it’s fair game.

“Hey, don’t give me any of that,” Ann says. “You and packing your luggage is like mayonnaise and my flawless complexion—it’s not good, buster. Remember Hawaii?”

He feels his skin heat up, and slams the door harder than he should. “How the hell was I supposed to know I’d get randomly checked? ‘Sides, I didn’t do anything illegal.”

“A backpack filled with condoms and a toothbrush might as well have been illegal.” Ann reaches into her pocket, whipping out a wrinkled piece of paper. “You can’t pull that kinda crap now, and if I know him as well as I do, I’m sure Akira’s already packing for that.” She laughs at her own joke and raises her hand enthusiastically. He can’t help but grin as he high fives her. Hey, even if his life is falling apart, at least he’s still getting some, right?

“So I’m here to help,” she continues, shaking the sting from her palms. “I finished packing a day early and everything, so I better get some thanks after this.” Before he can complain, she holds up a finger, expression stern. “I know you don’t need help. Yes, I’m still worried about you. Yes, I’m doing this because I’m worried about you. Let me do this stupid little thing, okay? It’ll make me feel better.”

His stomach churns, more intense than usual. “You’re still worried about me?” he asks, breath hitching. What? No. Did he fail at that too? Does she know? That must mean Akira knows, right? And if Akira knows, then—

“Whoa, hold on!” A hand grips his shoulders. “Deep breaths, Sakamoto. Don’t spiral on me now.” Gently, he’s led to a chair. He sits gratefully and waits for his heart rate to drop. The entire time, Ann stays quiet.

Eventually, when the room stops closing in on him, he sighs and leans back against his chair. “Sorry,” he says, feeling really stupid. Damn, what happened to him keeping this on the down low?

She slaps his knee. “Shut up, don’t apologize for that,” she scolds, and he almost smiles. It’s easy to forget how good Ann is at this sort of thing. For better or for worse, she’s had plenty of practice while talking to Shiho. The grip on his knee tightens. “Ryuji…”

He shakes his head. “No.”

And, for better or for worse, she absolutely does not let things go.

“Look, buddy.” The grip is starting to hurt, and it means business if her red acrylics are anything to go by. “I just saw you have a teensy little panic attack two damn minutes ago, and you’re expecting me to just leave you to it? Are you a clown? Are you a clown in a circus, Sakamoto? Is that what you are?”

“I just don’t want to fucking talk about it.” He shoves her hand off his knee, and before he knows it, his voice is raised. “Christ, can’t you just leave me alone? All you do is get up in my business when I clearly didn’t ask you to. Just cause we did this whole Phantom Thief crap together doesn’t mean it gives you the right to everything going on in my life.”

He loathes the ringing in his ears from his own voice. He hates it when he yells in the apartment, but hates the silence that follows more. Too much like his dad, too much like his exhausted mom.

Ann is staring up at him, hard and unwavering. “You’re such a piece of shit sometimes.”

“Huh?”

“If you want me off your tail, you’re gonna have to work harder than that.” She gets on her feet, glaring at him. “‘Piss me off and make me leave in tears’ was your tactic, right? Boring. Overdone. Try again.”

The way she’s standing, shoulders pushed back and chin jutted out like she’s ready for a shoot in some kind of army magazine, means she’s dead serious.

“Ann, just get the fuck out of my house. You’re really starting to get on my nerves.”

“Ooo, classic 'angry and make me storm off’, right? Better, but not good enough.”

“What the hell are you even saying?”

“I’m saying that you could say whatever pops into your bleached head—” she flicks his forehead, viciously sharp nails digging into his skin. ���And I wouldn’t go anywhere. You could call me names, or threaten me, or try to hurt me, but I am not going anywhere.”

Her eyes are bright blue, but he can still feel the heat of it like Carmen was inches in front of him. His throat quivers when he swallows. She’s really not going to give in.

“My knee’s been real bad lately,” he relents, making a fist and lightly knocking it against his thigh. “Normally it acts up during bad weather, but the sun hasn’t left in weeks and it still sucks. I didn’t wanna tell anyone, ‘cause I hate talking about…” he trails off, but she doesn’t need him to continue. They both know damn well who he’s referencing.

Ann’s face crumbles. “That’s horrible,” she says, absently rubbing the red mark on his forehead. “I’m sorry I was mean.”

He waves it off, the same way he does whenever his mom asks him if he’s getting enough sleep. “Don’t sweat it. I know how crazy you get.”

It’s a real testament to how worried she must’ve been when she didn't take the olive branch. “I know you probably don’t want to worry the group, but you should tell Akira.”

“Ann—” he starts wearily.

“You know I’m right about this. Now that the Metaverse is back and we’re going to be running around more, he can’t not know about this. Your boyfriend aside, he’s our leader. Something really nasty can happen if we’re not thinking straight.”

“...Sure.”

Ann gives him a weird look. “That was surprisingly easy. I thought you’d complain more.”

She’s getting way too sharp. “What, you wanted me to be a dick about it?”

“I guess not.” Leaning against his kitchen counter, she chews her lip like it’s bubble gum. “Can I do anything to help?”

“Yeah.” Ryuji stands to stretch, ready for this conversation to be over. “You can keep this between us—”

“—Except for Akira,” they say in unison, Ryuji exasperated and Ann insistent.

“Fine. I’ll back off if you think you have it under control.”

“Hallelujah, she’s finally giving me space.”

“But,” her gaze is harder than steel. “Never, ever keep secrets from me again, got it?”

Ryuji rolls his eyes. “Gotcha. Can we get started now? I’m over talking about my horrible past so that we can finally have a straight-out-of-an-anime summer vacation.”

Her eyes brighten up. “Yes! Okay, I made this huge list and I know for a fact we’re gonna have to go for a quick shopping trip—”

“Quick? So, like, three hours going by your standards?”

“Don’t interrupt me. We need to pack some swim trunks, toiletries, and I know you’re worried about your mom so we’ll go grocery shopping for her before we leave in the morning.” Feet tapping excitedly, “This is gonna be so fun. You start packing, I’ll go shopping. Rendezvous in an hour.”

Before he even gets a chance to put a word in, she’s already out the door.

—

Later that night, when everything is messily thrown into one oversized backpack and a rucksack and the fridge is chock full of groceries for his overworked mother, he gets a text.

TA: i know you said not to bring it up but i dont care TA: i searched it up and apparently cold and hot compresses can help with the pain on your knee TA: also getting shoes with really good support would help too. i modeled for some shoe brands, i can def get you some discounts!!! TA: like, i know this is all base level stuff and you know this already, but i bet you we can ask sophia for more help. maybe she can access top secret doctor stuff for knee injuries?? :O

Ryuji stares at his phone for a long moment, before shoving it under his pillow.

Great. Add ‘guilt’ and ‘keeping up with a lie’ to the list of shit he has to worry about.

—

“A lake!” Yusuke cries, kneeling in front of the body of water like a man discovering a desert oasis. Gently, he cups the clean water and cradles it against his cheek. “You are nothing like the garbage-infested sewers in Tokyo. You are crystal clear. You are divine. You are salvation. You are—”

“Akira, Inari’s being a weirdo again,” Futaba points an accusing finger at Yusuke, who’s shirt is slowly absorbing more and more of the water. “At this rate, he’s gonna have to change.”

Makoto grunts as she lugs out the grill singlehandedly, a loud clang ringing out when she nonchalantly sets down a family-sized piece of machinery. “Alright, here it is.” She catches the look of awe that Ryuji’s giving her. “Does it still shock you that I can probably bench press you twice over?”

“I’m just trying to figure out where you’re hiding all that muscle, prez,” he snorts, and it’s the truth. Her and Akira must be the same breed, considering they’re both way too lithe to be this strong. He’s seen the way they throw a punch in the Metaverse—they could probably disintegrate a dude in real life if they really wanted to. Like yeah they workout, but not that much. Maybe they’re dieting too? He’s tried dieting, but ramen is just way too good, even at the expense of muscles.

“Ryuji, when you’re done spacing out, can you grab the ingredients?” Akira calls out.

“Ugh, cut the mind reading dude, it scares the hell out of me.”

He shoots him a signature Kurusu Akira smile; small yet disarming all the same, and it never fails to get Ryuji’s heart to do weird flips. “It’s not mind reading once you realize that I’m just obsessed with you.”

Instead of answering, Ryuji grumbles as he stalks off into the RV. Damn him and his genuine words and compliments.

He pulls out their luggage from underneath the table. Akira doesn’t need to say what ingredients he needs to grab—he’s helped out enough times during Leblanc’s afterhours to know the curry spices by heart. Ryuji might be a failure, but hey, he can do this no problem.

Grabbing bottles and shakers and balancing them on top of his arms like an overworked waiter, he glances left and feels his heart dropped. The envelope from his room—dust-free from rubbing against the rest of his luggage—is sticking out of his backpack. After a quick adjustment, he uses his free hand to shove it deep in his bag, hearing the paper crinkle in on itself.

It was a spur of the moment decision to bring it along with him, one that he’s still half-regretting. Why’d he do it? Maybe he was worried that he might enjoy this trip a little too much? Maybe he was some kind of masochist that likes having his problems and anxiety follow him literally everywhere he goes? Maybe he was scared to hell and back that his mom would find it before he had a chance to tell her himself? Fuck if he knows.

Poking his head out of the door, he yells, “Heads up!”

Throwing a bottle of black pepper, Akira catches it without looking. “Thanks.”

“Don’t sweat it.”

“Too late, I already sweat a little bit.”

Ryuji squints. “It’s sweated. Right, Ann?”

“Don’t look at me. I went to America for modelling, not a spelling bee.”

“I won all my spelling bees in middle school,” Makoto says, chest puffed out in pride.

“Were you the only one who joined?”

“That’s not important.”

Akira’s phone beeps enthusiastically, and Sophia’s voice rings out. “Got it! According to the internet, ‘sweat’ and ‘sweated’ are both grammatically valid. Technically, both Ryuji and Ann are correct.”

“Can we all just shut up for a second about sweating, for the love of god,” Futaba fans her face weakly. “It’s already sooooo hot. I feel like my skin is melting. Yusuke, is my skin melting?”

He looks at her for a moment, peering closely. “Yes.”

“How about we go in for a quick dip in the lake?” Haru offers, and Ryuji suspects that she can feel the same energy that he’s feeling when the group gets like this. “We were all talking about how beautiful it was, and it would cool down Futaba-chan no problem.”

She leans down, swirling her hand in the water. “It’s a little chilly, but it’ll definitely take care of the heat.”

“Good idea!” Futaba jumps up and throws off her shoes, ready to march in. “This is gonna feel so good.”

“Socks!” Akira reminds her.

“I know that!”

Haru and Yusuke follow suit, eager to get away from the heat, Makoto going in to change to shorts. Ryuji guesses it’s probably not an easy feat to roll up leather pants. Probably makes it either to ride motorcycles, or whatever people with leather pants do.

He feels a poke in his side. “You hopping in with them?” Akira asks.

No. The answer is already at the tip of his tongue, ready to roll out. Given how cramped the RV is, keeping up the trademark Sakamoto energy while lugging more baggage than an airport employee is brutal. It’s barely been a day since they started the trip, and he’s not sure how much longer he can keep this up. Already his chest feels heavy with something, and whenever all the windows are rolled up, it gets weirdly hard to breathe. But if he says no, Akira would definitely know something was up.

“Uh—”

“Actually, I think we’ll take over the curry for you,” Ann cuts in.

Ryuji turns to her, startled and wide eyed.

“Why?” Akira asks, just as confused as he is. They both know how much Ann loves being in the middle of things, especially in group hangouts.

“Because you look like you could use a break. I know for a fact that you had to pack Yusuke’s stuff for him, or else the van would’ve had fifteen canvases and an easel, and you had to grocery shop for everyone, and talk Haru out of a guilty spiral because she wasn’t confident enough in her driving. And all this before—” Ann looks down at her wrist to peer at a non-existent watch. “Five o’clock.

He frowns. “Sure, but I’ve done twice as much during our prime. This,” he gestures at the pot. “Is a walk in the park. Thank you, though.”

Ann sighs, heavy and contemplative. “I didn’t want to say it out right, but since you’re being difficult…” She places a hand on his shoulder. “You should hang out with Futaba more. Being gone from her for that long has been rough, and yes, we took care of her while you weren’t there, but you’re different.” Her hand tightens. “You know, Wild Card and all that.”

“That’s not what that means, but I appreciate the effort,” Akira says. Despite his words, it’s clear that what she said bothered him. Eyes flickering to Futaba, enthusiastically kicking the water to see how far the droplets would go, he directs his gaze to Ryuji. “Is it okay if…?”

Ryuji rolls his eyes, pretending like relief isn’t crashing through his body. “Go.”

Akira kisses his cheek. “Thank you.” When he pulls away, he gives Ann a hesitant look.

She grimaces. “Thanks, but no. Go hangout with the gremlin.”

He gives her a salute and saunters off, rolling up his jeans to wade through the water, making sure to splash Futaba on the way there.

After a moment of silence, he sighs. “Fine, I’ll say it. Your acting classes are actually doing you some good.”

“Ha!” she points at him triumphantly. “And you said it’d be a waste of time!”

“I didn’t say that.” Ryuji slouches into a nearby camping chair, the one that Sojiro forced them to lug along, hoping that some of his fatigue would seep away. “We both know that Futaba’s never been better, so what’s up? Why’d you throw out Akira like that?”

“It’s not for me, stupid,” she scoffs, but he can’t help but feel the weight in his chest get even heavier. He sinks even deeper into his chair. “The water was cold, right? That would make your knee even worse.”

“Yeah,” he blinks, having already forgotten the whole fucked-up knee story. “Thanks.”

“I won’t chew you out for not telling Akira, even though I should. But like I said,” she ruffles his hair. “I got your back. I know it must be hard, but you’re still acting all normal. We’re lucky that it’s only affecting you in the real world, too.” She had come up with that one herself, and thank god she did, cause he wouldn’t have known what to say if she had confronted him on how he could easily do flips and sprints in the Metaverse. “That just takes a lot of guts, and even though I know for a fact this would make you feel so much better once you tell him, I trust that you know what you need better than me.”

“Quit trying to look all cool,” he says, and prays to fucking god that the red on his face comes off as embarrassed gratitude rather than earth-shattering guilt. “And aren’t you supposed to be cooking, curry master?”

“Hey, he asked you to do it, not me. I’ll help you get the ingredients, but no way I’m doing the whole cooking shebang.”

“Ugh, fine,” he says, as if he doesn’t secretly love the idea of getting to cook for Akira this time instead of the other way around. Pushing himself up, Ann reaches out to help him. “You don’t gotta baby me, Takamaki.”

“I’ll baby you for as long as I need to, and then eventually Akira will be the one babying you. We come in shifts.”

“I hope you’re unionized.”

Makoto pokes her head out of the RV, wearing a showercap. “Did someone say unionized?”

“What the hell?” Ryuji staggers back in shock. Crap. “How long have you been there?”

“And why are you wearing that?” Ann gasps.

“Not long, and I don’t want my hair getting wet in case I fall in. We have no idea what’s been in here.”

“Were you going to fall in a bathtub?”

“Did you want me to push you in?”

“No, ma’am.”

—

There wasn’t a problem initially. Well, not one in Palaces, anyway. Wait, they’re called Jails now, which is really confusing. Ryuji’s just gonna have to avoid using those words so he doesn’t make himself look like an idiot.

Back in Shibuya, it had been...fine. Attacks landed, punches were dodged, Batons passed like his life depended on it (and it did). Like clockwork, instinct came to him and the weird nostalgic normalcy of fighting Shadows made it bearable.

Ryuji was off his game, and he could tell.

But he was barely off his game. If anything, he still had a foot on his game. Maybe even an entire leg on the game if he was being generous. He was still enough on the game that even Akira doesn’t notice.

But the weird part was, he doesn’t mind the fact that he’s off his game. In an even weirder way, he’s never been more on his game in his entire life.

“There!” Futaba’s voice crackles through the comms. “Uncle is open wide!”

“Her name is Ante, Oracle,” Makoto responds, brass knuckles jammed into the throat of some poor Shadow. “It’s open, but it’s vicious.”

Ryuji calls for Kidd just as she pulls away, wiping out the rest of the weaker ones with ease. “This thing’s like a goddamn mousetrap.” Ante’s serpent body slithering on the cool tiles so fluidly that it gives him the creeps. Her tail has tiny spikes etched into it, like mini knives hot glued onto a tetherball. The minute any of them even come close, she strikes outwards. “How vicious is vicious?”

“Depends on how fast you are.”

Akira’s head jerks up, and when their eyes meet, cracks a smile. “Fast, you say?”

Ryuji grins wider than he has in days. Joker relying on him? How can someone not feel a little giddy at that? “Say no more, leader.”

He stretches quickly, and feels eyes piercing the back of his head. Ann, probably. Shrugging it off, he sprints low towards Ante. As long as Ann doesn’t say a word, there won’t be a problem.

She’s taken hits from where Akira’s been concentrating on her. A mixture of bullet holes in its scales mixed in with cross slashes from where his bless attacks hit had left her delirious and pissed off. When he’s close, she bares her fangs and strikes, only for him to skid on the smooth tiles, rugged hands touching his mask.

“Come on out, Captain!”

His blond hair ruffled from Kidd’s attack, a crack of lightning came down from his Persona’s mangled hand, and a split second later her tail had been sliced clean through. And another crack comes, her neck landing on the tiles with a muffled thud. An attack that should’ve just been enough to incapacitate Ante had instead completely decapitated her.

A beat of silence passed as everyone processed what had happened. Ryuji’s mouth drops open, but he can’t muster any surprise.

He doesn’t know how, or why, but for some reason his attacks have been at least five times as strong as they had been back before the Metaverse was still intact. Moves that he didn’t even know are on the tip of his tongue, as if he had practiced them all his life. Normally this would only happen after rigorous training for months, adding up in tiny increments.

Now it happens every day.

“Well, looks like someone woke up on the right side of the gym today,” Futaba laughs awkwardly.

“What on earth was that, Skull?” Haru asks, eyes wide. “I had never seen you do something like that.”

Morgana’s tail swished. “She makes a good point. When’d you learn that one?”

“I don’t know.” He calls back Captain Kidd, eyeing the drop that Ante had left behind, but doesn’t move forward to snatch it up. “But whatever the reason is, it’s awesome as hell. I mean, did you see that? Sliced that thing open like a stuffed bear.”

“Let’s not bring stuffed animals into this, please,” Makoto frowns.

Akira’s giving him a look again, and it leaves Ryuji unsettled. “What is it, dude? I got something on my face?”

“No,” he steps closer, and his voice drops. “Are you alright?”

“Am I alright? I’ve never been better, man.” He flashes him a grin, hoping that it’s bright enough to distract Akira’s ever-searching eyes. “Come on, let’s get moving. Natsume’s heart isn’t gonna change itself.”

After one last glance, he nods, and Ryuji can see the minute Calculating Joker comes back. “You heard him. Let’s get moving, everyone.”

They all follow him up the stairs, eager to get moving past the eternally bleary and uncreatively written setting of Natsume’s Jail.

“Psst!” Ryuji hisses at Ann, who turns to him with a question in her eyes. “Panther! Get your ass over here!”

“What?” she whispers back.

He rubs the back of his neck. “I fucked up my knee when I rushed her, and I still haven’t told Joker, so do you mind…?”

An expected look of disapproval emerges from her expression, and Ryuji hurries to beat her to the punch. “I know, I know! But I can’t tell him in the middle of all this, now can I?”

“Fine,” she grumbles before calling Carmen. “I’ll cover you for now, but only ‘cause I’m a good friend and I’m super cute.”

“Yeah, the cutest, prettiest, whatever.” He glances over to Akira, swooping down to grab Ante’s drops before heading up. “Quick, before he looks back.”

Diarama washes over him, and even though relief floods through his body, he can feel a bead of sweat running down his temple. He’s not sure if it’s from her inherent heat or from the stress of lying to her again.

“Better?” Ann asks.

“Way better. Thanks.” He catches Sophia looking at them curiously. “The kid’s watching us. You better move ahead before she starts analyzing our personality types or something.”

Her eyes light up. “You think she’d do it if I asked? I really wanna know.”

“Just go!”

Ann hurries to catch up to Sophia, and while she’s distracted, Ryuji gently rolls up sleeves—he had gotten nicked by Ante as he slid. Normally that wouldn’t have been a problem; he had gotten thrown through walls, been hit by mini hurricanes, been blown up by a boat, and walked away from all that still swinging.

Yet lately, any tiny, fractional, miniscule injury is enough to shoot unbearable pain throughout his entire body. It’s as if he was back in Kamoshida’s Palace, where every punch thrown at him had been life or death.

Glancing down at his forearm, he sighs. The cut was gone, but he can’t keep asking Ann to heal him in secret every time.

“Skull?”

Hurriedly pulling down his sleeve, he glances up to see Akira standing in front of him.

“Everyone’s waiting for you,” he says casually, as if those words don’t mean the entire goddamn world to Ryuji. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he answers, shaking his head. “My bad. Let’s go.”

They clambered up the staircase, and Ryuji decides that all of that stuff—getting injured and having it hurt like hell—just isn’t too important.

That just means that he’ll be fine as long as he doesn't get hit, and he’s had plenty of experience dodging punches that were thrown at him before.

—

“Cheers!”

All of them raise their red plastic cups, clinking it against each other in a way that they see adults do all the time on TV. Apple juice and iced tea slosh as they gulp it down eagerly, excitement so prevalent that they can hardly taste the cheap, convenience store-esque quality of their drink.

“This isn’t too bad,” Makoto muses, leaning against the faux-leather seats of the RV. “Though it would probably taste better if it wasn’t room temperature.”

“Does it look like this place has a mini fridge?” Futaba says, legs swinging down from her top bunk. “That’s a good idea though. I should’ve bought mine from home. Can you imagine we’re halfway through a six hour road trip and you want iced coffee and boom! Two feet behind you is Futaba’s Ice Cold Cafe, one hundred yen per use.”

“I hope you’d be ready to sleep on it, because this place is cramped enough as is,” Akira slaps the wall a few times, the way a rancher would a sturdy horse. “We’re lucky with what we have.”

“I know that! Without this thing we never would have been able to conquer Natsume’s Jail.” She reaches down to muss Yusuke’s hair. “I’m sure Inari feels good about that.”

He smiles, hair sticking up in all directions. “Of course I feel satisfied. Though I understand his struggle, being able to stop a fellow artist into becoming a true monster is always something that will bring me joy. Justice will never stop feeling good.”

“Cheers to that!” Ann raises her drink. “And you know what? This wouldn’t have been possible had Ryuji not kicked some major ass in that Jail.”

The group whoops and hoots loudly, and Ryuji can’t help but scoff when Ann winks at him. “Aw guys, you’re making me blush. I’m fucking awesome, sure, but we’re all pretty amazing.”

Haru shakes her head. “She’s right, Ryuji-kun. WIthout you, defeating dragon Natsume would’ve been much more difficult.”

“Even I can admit that you’ve gotten much stronger, Skull.” Morgana leaps onto the table, licking up the bowl of apple juice that Haru had left him. It feels wrong to let an animal drink that, but he’d never say anything about it. “Have you been training?”

Ryuji shrugs. “Yeah, a little.”

“Ooo, look at Mr. Humble all of a sudden,” Futaba jeers.

“I’m always humble!”

Ann grimaces. “I don’t think so. Remember when you finally got Akira to go on a date with you—”

“How dare you. He was begging me to go on a date with him—”

“And you wouldn’t stop telling us about how you had nabbed the coolest guy in Tokyo—”

Ryuji nearly jumps over the booth to put a hand on her mouth. “Quit yammering, Takamaki, I’m begging you.” He feels something slimy on his hand, and pulls back quickly. “Ew, did you lick me?! That’s so effing gross.”

“You’re gross.”

He feels a hand on the small of his back, warm and familiar. “I don’t think you’re gross, Ryuji,” Akira says. “I think you’re very clean.”

A harmonic beep rings through the air. “Sorry to interrupt,” Sophia’s clear voice cuts in. “But Akira, you got an email.”

“Thanks Sophie.” He points to where his phone is perched on the windowsill, propped up so she can see them celebrate their victory. “Can you…?”

Ryuji wordlessly passes it to him as everyone breaks off into smaller conversations, chatter blending into each other until it sounds like the kind of white noise he would queue up when he’s desperate to get some studying done. Immediately, Akira begins scanning through his phone, gray eyes focused.

He props his head against his shoulder to read alongside him and makes a noise of interest. “You signed up for cram school?” he asks, surprised.

“I did,” he replies, thumbing through the details of his admission.

Ryuji stares at him. “But you’re so fucking smart. Why are you paying who knows what to learn shit you already know?”

“Because Tokyo U barely cracks a 30% admission rate, and chemistry is hell incarnate.” With one last few clicks, he sets his phone down with a wince. “Sure is expensive though. We might have to reform the heart of someone in the education committee.” When he continues to stare at him wordlessly, Akira turns to him. “Don’t worry, I’m still leeching off of the Thieves' money from last year, so it’s not too bad when you take into account my part-time back home.”

“No, that’s not—I’m just—” he shakes his head and forces himself to start over. “Since when did you decide on Tokyo University?”

It’s Akira's turn to look taken aback. “What do you mean? You’d never leave Tokyo, especially if it meant leaving your mom.”

“That’s not the point. The point is I’m making you choose between me and your hometown!” he exclaims, but he already knows in his heart what Akira’s choice is going to be. It’s stupidly obvious. For some reason, the longer this conversation goes on, the tighter his chest feels.

The feeling doubles when Akira’s eyes, always focused and always sharp, subdued at his words. “Are you really comparing yourself to that place? You know I’d choose you over anything.” He reaches forward and combs through Ryuji’s hair, hushed and gentle in a way that only Akira can manage. “I’m so excited to live life with you again.”

The white noise, so comfortable before, abruptly turns overwhelmingly loud—grating and unbearable and painful to be around. Ryuji stands abruptly, barely reacting to Futaba’s yelp when he backs into her.

“Hey! What gives?”

“I…” his eyes dart around, flinching when he accidentally makes eye contact with Akira, and again when he locks eyes with Ann.

The sudden silence from the group is somehow worse than the noise from before, and if the tightness in his chest gets any more painful, his lungs are gonna burst into a million pieces and he’s not gonna be able to pick it all up from the ground if everyone’s watching.

“Trash,” he blurts out.

“What?” Makoto blinks, glancing up from her map.

“This place is disgusting and it’s way too cluttered and it’s bad to leave such a big mess so I’m gonna—” Ryuji grabs the plastic bag filled with garbage, haphazardly tossing empty cans and plastic cups into it. “I’ll be back. Don’t wait up.”

Before they can question him, he’s already out of the RV, towing trash and leaving his friends behind him.

—

“What the fuck was that?!” Ryuji screams into the sky.

He was far enough from the trailer that he knew they couldn’t hear him even if they had strained their ears, and it was late enough into the night that even the tourists weren’t poking around to look at the shrines or the Great Masamune himself.

“Keep it a secret’, my ass! That was the second dumbest thing—no, the third dumbest thing you’ve ever done in your entire life. Do you know how high that threshold is, Sakamoto? High! Higher than you can see with your own two eyes! Higher than Yaldabaoth’s goddamn crane-sized spine!”

Swooping down, he grabs a fistful of pebbles and throws it as hard as he can. “You are so selfish! What happened to keeping ‘Kira happy, you effing asshole?” Relishing in how far it went, he takes another two more. “You are so annoying. You are—” he throws, the rocks landing with a little plink. “Insufferable. Stupid. Selfish. A fucking—” this time, he doesn’t even know where it lands. “Gah!”

Turning on his heel, he glares up at the statue and grits his teeth when he sees Masamune’s stoic expression. “Don’t give me that look—you’re dead. You ain’t got nothing to complain about. Everyone’s remembering you as the guy who saved Japan, or whatever. But guess what? You’re probably a loser. A dumb, stupid loser who convinced everyone that you’re good for something when you’re worth jack shit!”

Before he can stop himself, he takes the garbage bag full of cans, glass bottles, and crumpled chip bags and hurls it at Masamune. It hits the base of the statue, far below damaging the One-Eyed Dragon himself, but the glass cracks under the force of being thrown, tearing through the plastic and causing trash and shards to explode all over the steps. Ryuji’s chest is heaving as he stares down at what he’s done.

“Impressive.”

He whirls around at the voice behind him, stomach lurching straight to the ground when he sees who it was. “In his years of war, I doubt that anyone’s ever tried throwing waste in his direction in order to defeat him.”

“Yusuke,” he breathes, feeling his frustration draining away to make room for even more guilt, if that was even possible. Ryuji cannot possibly look any more of an asshole than he does right now—tearing his throat raw in a public space, surrounded by the garbage he had thrown at a national monument in front of a guy who clearly worships and respects art that’s old as hell. “Sorry, I’ll clean it up, I promise. I was just…” he hesitates. “Talking to myself.”

Yusuke hums, unconvinced, and carefully approaches the mess in front of him. Ryuji waves him off. “No, don’t. Broken glass is a bitch, especially the little pieces. If that gets in your skin, it’s game over. You’d have to go into the hospital for sure.” He grimaces. “Trust me. My dad used to throw beer bottles at our place like he was in a ball game, and that ain’t fun, I promise you that.”

“I see.” Turning around, Ryuji hoped that he was magically going to head back to the group and not mention this to anyone there, but instead Yusuke stopped in front of a water fountain. “You’re right. If you’re not careful, it could be very easy to hurt yourself when dealing with broken glass.” Pulling out a handkerchief from his breast pocket in a way that only Yusuke can, he soaks it in water before crouching down at the shards glimmering under moonlight. “But if you use wet fabric to dab it on the shards itself—” he pats the concrete and flips the fabric over, revealing the moist and glistening pieces stuck on its side. “You can clean up the pieces with little to no danger.”

“Huh.” After a moment, he realizes that he’s making Yusuke do the dirty work for him. “Pass me that. Thanks for the tip, but I can take it from here. I mean,” he rubs the back of his neck. “It’s totally my fault that the glass is here anyway.”

He doesn’t look up from his task, eyes focused and movement meticulous. “No need. If you’d like to help, you can start picking up the non-dangerous litter around us.”

Ryuji does as he’s told, wincing as he has to pick up sticky, pop-soaked wrappers with his bare hands but he doesn’t complain. Karmic retribution has never held back against him. “The glass thing,” he starts, squatting down and picking up empty cans and plastic utensils with curry remnants still stuck to them. “They teach you that in Kosei?”

“No, from one of Madarame’s past pupils actually.” Yusuke shifts over to dab at another glass-covered section, concrete looking clearer with every pat. “Sensei had a rather violent habit of hurling canvases at the wall if they do not meet his standards, and his actions had led to many of our more fragile belongings being shattered when he did.” His tone doesn’t change, but Ryuji can see his shoulders tighten. “At least it allowed me to move away from that house very quickly, considering I had very little to pack away.”

Ryuji opens his mouth to comfort him. Instead, he finds himself speaking in a low tone. “Glad that bastard is rotting in jail,” he resists the urge to spit on the ground. “Then afterwards, I hope he rots in hell, just to really cover all of our bases.”

That pulls a chuckle out of Yusuke. “Thank you,” he smiles, and all Ryuji can do is nod. There isn’t much you can say after that without making it weird. But how weirder can it possibly get when the two of you are off towing around someone’s perception of the world on a daily basis?

They continue to work in silence; the wind is gentle, but it’s enough to rustle the leaves and allow Ryuji to feel some relief from the summer heat. He’s picking up wet paper tissues, and it’s gross, but it’s nice to be doing something with his hands.

He’s just about done his part of the clean-up when he can’t take it anymore. “Aren’t you gonna ask?”

“No,” Yusuke answers without looking up. That’s another thing that Ryuji really appreciates about him—playing dumb has never been something that he’s done to get out of an awkward situation. To be fair though, Yusuke himself is an awkward situation.

“Why not?”

“Did you want me to?”

That question makes him pause, and Yusuke doesn’t wait for an answer. “You’ve always been the most vocal in the group, and while many a time it has been our downfall in terms of secrecy, I have always considered it one of your strong points. And if you, Sakamoto Ryuji, are indeed struggling with using your words,” Yusuke’s eyes turn to him. “Then it must be very difficult to talk about.”

A beat passes. “No,” Ryuji mutters. “I don’t want you to ask.”

“Then I won’t,” he says easily. “But I do have a question.”

“Lay it on me.”

Yusuke shuffles to crouch down next to him, and it’s kinda weird seeing someone as elegant as him pose like some kind of hoodlum. “Does Akira know about your struggle?”

His mind flashes back to the confused look back in the RV and he scratches his neck roughly. “I bet he does now.”

Yusuke leans back, shocked. “He doesn’t know?”

“I’m getting there! Don’t pressure me, man. You said it yourself, I’m fucking struggling.”

“Well, yes, I did say that, but it’s Akira,” he says the name almost reverently. “I’d be surprised if he doesn’t sense that something is askew.”

“I just said that, didn’t I? Goddamn, you and Ann are just two of the same peas in the same freaking pond, aren’t you?”

“It’s ‘pod’, Ryuji,” he corrects. “Ann is aware?”

“She—” Ugh, how does he explain that she thinks she knows, but really he had lied about what he told her? “She basically knows.” And because his fat mouth just keeps getting fatter, “She’s sort of part of the problem.”

Yusuke’s eyes widen and Ryuji hurries to cover up for his mistake. “She’s not a problem, it’s just that I didn’t explain…It’s really my fault, and how I deal with internal shit, you know what I’m saying? And Ann’s just kind of in the crossfire, so what ended up happening is when I talk to her about what I’m feeling, I end up just feeling worse.” He winces. First he lies to her and now he’s shit-talking her? “I did not say that. What I really mean is that, uh, feelings...and actions...are complicated,” he finishes weakly.

“I see,” he says finally.

It seems that even Yusuke has a threshold for uncomfortable moments, because he rises to his feet. “Thank you for sharing all of that with me.”

“Uh, yeah, for sure. Thanks for the glass trick.”

“No need to mention it. It’s much easier to clean up a mess when you have someone helping you.” He points vaguely behind himself, “Would you like to head back together? I’m sure by now the festivities are winding down, and the trash you were so keen on disposing of has definitely been thrown away.”

Ryuji blanches. It grossed him out that he forgot he was holding an armful of garbage in his hand. “You go ahead. I just need to,” he rocks his arms, almost cradling the wet garbage. “Throw this out.”

“Very well. I’ll see you when you get back, then.”

He waves at him, and Ryuji wiggles in response (unless he wants it all hitting the ground and restarting that whole process again, which, no thanks.) After dumping it all into a nearby trash can, the process of which lasts several minutes since he still had to sort out the recycling, he feels a buzz in his pocket.

KA: come back when you can KA: i miss you

He takes a shaky breath.

SR: on my way

[camelotsheart]

MERLIN CHALLENGE 2020 Day Thirteen - Favourite Cast Member Katie & Julian in 5x13 commentary

I know this is a very big stretch from the theme, but Katie and Julian in this commentary were honestly iconic. Includes: mentions of bondage, incest, so, so much subtext and just a horrendous amount of queerbaiting. I’ve compiled a list of the funniest/most important exchanges below the line.

At the start of the commentary:

J: There are no homoerotic undertones to Merlin of any kind.

K: I think so. I mean, whenever I played any scenes with Millie it was always straight in my mind.

J: No, there are definitely lesbian undertones in those.

When Merlin tells Arthur he has magic:

J: It's a very beautiful moment between two men. [Katie tries to hold her laughter]

K: ...You are not helping this commentary at all, by the way, Julian.

J: No, I'm not. 

K: I think you possibly have been waiting for the sixty-five episodes to do this one commentary.  

J: Yes. I've always been a bit more serious in the previous ones.

K: No he hasn't, actually. 

Also in this scene:

J: ...On no level is magic metaphorical in this show.

K: It's funny, because I don't actually feel like you're being sincere.

J: I'm always sincere.

K: You're the exec. You are never sincere.

J: Believe me, I'm a fountain of truth and honesty.

K: Julian is lying right now. Lying.

When Gwen is back in the castle and Leon reports to her that Arthur is still missing:

J: We've gone to the spurned wife who wants to know where her husband is.

K: But she has Sir Leon. Why would she need...?

J: Ah... Well you see, that's another undercurrent in Merlin, isn't it?

K: Sir Leon?

J: Sir Leon.

K: Oh no. It's definitely-

J: Sir Leon and Gwen.

Also in this scene:

K: ...We know that you never gave me any love interests.  

J: I gave you Morgause. 

K: [She laughs] He says -- in all seriousness!

J: Incestuous lesbianism. What more can you want?

K: You cannot make a show without lesbianism, in all fairness.  

J: It's gotta be said.

Also in this scene:

K: I do worry about you guys, actually. I worry that there are men sitting in a room with Merlin just trying to come up with the most ridiculous scenes that they could get past the BBC.

J: That's...

K: He's nodding.

J: Not true.

K: He is nodding! He's nodding -- it's so true!

J: It's a family show.

K: Not in your head.

When Arthur tells Gaius Merlin is a sorcerer:

K: Did Gaius know?

J: What, that he was a sorcerer?

K: That's not what I asked. About the undertones.  

J: No, Richard would never think of anything like that.

K: You're right, he's a gentleman.

J: He's a gentleman... A man of genuine innocence.

When Arthur gives Gaius the royal seal:

K: The seal... He's passing the mantle to the woman-

J: Yep. That's the last vestige of his heterose-- I mean, sorry. That's the last vestige of his marriage--

K: Oh my god! [They laugh] This has descended to a level. I mean, I thought I was bad in these - playing up - but I have got nothing on Julian Murphy here. I think we should just throw it all out the window.

J: The way we directed the scene where Gaius tells Gwen is basically the thing of it.

K: I think you must just think of most of these scenes in this episode (as the thing of it), if you don't go-

J: It always helps, I swear.

K: You know, he ain't lying again. He has told me this.  

J: If you want to find the emotional truth of it, it does help. 

When Gaius comes back to Camelot and talks to Gwen:

J: That's a tricky one for Gaius to explain - why he's not come back to his wife.

K: You-- You're seeing an entirely different show here than a lot of people, aren't you?

J: Yeah, I know. I do.

When.... er, Julian describes it better:

J: This is the scene where Merlin feeds Arthur... I'll just let that hang in the air.

K: I will input what I can. Alex Vlahos is lost in laughter listening to this. He can't quite believe what's coming out of your mouth.

J: It's actually quite a moving scene.

K: And yet that's not what you want to comment on.

And uh, yeah... another one:

J: Now Merlin is giving Arthur a drink.

K: I think he's just giving him a drink there.

J: Yes. They just spend the whole episode on this journey. It's quite simple.

K: Feeding each other?

J: The feeding thing, I think, is in your mind, Katie.

K: You just said it then. I'm just repeating back to you what you said. Don't try and blame this on me! For a start, you guys came up with the episodes!

When Gwaine and Percival are attacking Morgana:

J: This entire sequence is actually a homage to Tom's arms.

When Morgana has tied them up:

J: Oh, Katie. You've tied up the man again.

K: I know. I just like them where I want them, you know. I don't want them to go far.

J: And as you say, thousands of girls watching Merlin want them in that position.... You've tied them both up!

K: Well, like I said - I don't want them to run away when I want them.

When Merlin uses his magic to lead Saxons on a false trail:

[Arthur: All these years Merlin, and you never once sought any credit.

Merlin: That's not why I do it.]

K: Liar!

J: Well, he knows.

K: What are you--

J: You can never be too sure about these things.

K: It's all the meaningful glances now after this DVD commentary that I'm just going--

J: I should say that Katie, just before we wrote this episode, insisted that it ended with a kiss between Arthur and Merlin.

K: That is not what I said. That's what you put into it. I had the most amazing ending.... My ending, which you didn't use, which I thought would have been amazing, is -- Arthur. Mortally wounded on the battlefield. Merlin comes up and cradles him in his arms. Merlin to Arthur: I have magic. Arthur takes his face in his hands: I know. I think I've always known.

When Arthur and Merlin rest for an hour:

[Arthur: Whatever happens--

Merlin: Shh. Don't talk.

Arthur: I'm the king, Merlin. You can't tell me what to do.]

K: Awww

[Merlin: I always have. I'm not going to change now.]

K: [laughs] oh my god....

[Arthur: I don't want you to change.]

K: [continues laughing] Do you know how much trouble we're going to get in from people saying this was a beautiful moment and all you guys can do is laugh?

J: Well I think you need to have both sides of it. And to be fair, we did genuinely think of the episode as a love story between two men. That's what I think it is. Jokes aside and innuendos aside, I remember talking to Justin and saying that's what it's about.

K: You can't deny that Merlin and Arthur love each other. On whatever love way you want to think. There is no denying it.

J: I think it's a purer love than you, say, had for your sister.

K: You say I had for my sister. [Julian laughs] Ok. I don't know how you read that into it.

J: No. We'll stop there.

K: Oh, we won't.

When Morgana rides her horse through the woods:

K: More Katie galloping.

J: I think you did that just so you could see my boobs.

K: I definitely didn't.

When The Scene happens:

J: Now we're nearing the moment. I'll show you where exactly I'd pick is the...

K: ...where it's all been building to -- almost sixty-five hours of TV. Special moment.

... [Arthur: Just hold me, please.]

J: There you are.

K: [gasps] I can't believe you put that in.

J: Well I think it's... you know, he's dying. The man he loves is dying, so he's holding him.

K: I don't think that's what you meant at all when you put that line.

J: It is!

Shameless trivialisation of ruining everyone’s holiday:

J: I don't know how the nation's gonna feel on christmas eve, but anyway.

K: Yeah, it's kind of a downer.

Katie being literally everyone in the Merlin fandom:

[Kilgharrah: No man, no matter how great, can know his destiny.]

K: Hold on a second here, hasn't the dragon been telling him his destiny this entire time?

J: Yeah, but that's the sort of annoying comment that people make when they're not just going with the flow.

K: Oh really? Oh really, is it? [they laugh] Fine then!

[zontiky]

Hey for bullet point AUs ideas (you were asking for them right..?) 2010s-type sitcom (like Community or B99) AU! What Silly Sitcom Tropes would the siblings get into?

i actually havent seen either of those shows 😳 nor do i watch sitcoms, but to my knowledge u SIT and u are ENTERTAINED so everybody SIT DOWN and i will ENTERTAIN ✨✨

(wait are disney shows sitcoms? because when i think abt older tv humor i get slapped in the face with bits of disney tv i managed to catch as a kid. my entire sense of humor thru elementary school was based on that. ok i can be funny i promise here we go)

diego: wait... so she’s... our sister?

*laugh track plays*

grace has a laugh track function because i think thats extremely cursed and also hilarious.

reginald building himself a robot wife: what do kids these days like? humor? is humor still popular? yeah im adding it

there’s a christmas episode but it’s very obvious that none of them have ever fucking celebrated and half of them don’t fucking want to skjhfs

is wacky ringtones a thing? patch calls diego to help her out in the hotel and the dial tone is britney’s toxic

britney obviously exists in the tua universe and i will accept nothing less. a world without britney is a really sad one and like i know tuaverse is kinda shit what with the apocalypse happening thrice and the music cult and all but like come on... its not THAT bad. it cant be

luther’s coat gets torn off and there’s a slightly smaller, other coat underneath

that gets ripped off too and he’s wearing a tshirt

YOU KNOW THE GAG WHERE A CHARACTER JUST KEEPS PULLING WEAPONS OUT OF THEIR CLOTHES, WHERE THERE SHOULD NOT PHYSICALLY BE ROOM FOR WEAPONS? FIVE

or lila

i think that would be really funny with either of them tbh

five whipping a knife out of his bowling shoe: a-HA

lila unsheathing a broadsword out of nowhere: o-HO

five pulling a rifle from his waistband: a-ha-HA

lila swinging a mace from behind her back: o-ho-HO!

and so on

every time klaus makes a joke there’s applause coming out of nowhere but also distantly, faintly, the ghostbusters theme

specifically “who you gonna call? GHOST-” on loop

ben is the only one aware of it. not even klaus hears it

ben constantly makes stupid mocking faces behind klaus + over klaus’ shoulder

klaus: guys please take me seriously

ben giving him bunny ears: yEah GUyS LiSten tO hIM

nobody else can see it. i know thats obvious but i have to specify. only the audience can see ben doing it. klaus knows ben does it but hes never caught him in the act and has absolutely no proof. ben does it purely for his own amusement and to fuck with klaus big-time

there is no young!hargreeves cast. it’s just the adult hargreeves but in umbrella uniform crouching down to 12yearold level

before slaughtering the commission board five uses one of those toy BANG guns on carmichael and then immediately whips out his impossible axe

vanya plays a tiny violin and it’s only her, every other violinist in the orchestra has a normal violin and her tiny little violin is never brought up

by tiny i mean realistically tiny. like maybe 1/32? thats a small fucking violin yall

helen with her full size violin: you’ll never amount to anything

vanya:

who else have i not made fun of yet

allisons hair is purple but not bc im laughing at her bc i genuinely think she would have peaked with it. purple hair allie ftw

leonard runs a toy store not a woodwork shop and he hands vanya a weird cartoonified wood action figure of her and she’s like thaaaanks as the laugh track plays

vanya storms out of the family meeting and her back faces the camera and we see that there’s a piece of paper taped to her shirt that says NOBODY KNOWS I’M A LESBIAN

*laugh track but gay this time*

klaus makes a joke about ben being his only straight friend and it cuts to ben passionately making out with a ghost dude in the back of a club or smth kjhwkfd

WOULD THIS BE A GOOD TIME TO SLIP IN OUR LIGHTHEARTED CRACK “BEN IS THE ONLY ALLOROMO” AU? IHFHKLHFKFD

five is wearing bowling shoes the entire first season as well. when they go to the bowling alley he switches them out for a different pair of bowling shoes, which he wears through the entire second season. again this is never brought attention to or mentioned in any way

diego drives an impala /j

little girl god popping wheelies on a motorbike in greyscale heaven

allison has a fight scene where she stabs someone with heels and then breaks the heel and goes aw :( my stilettos and this isnt even funny its just extremely badass i love her a lot 

we get more screentime with dave but he says groovy every other sentence

klaus’ ‘68 club shirt is garishly flamingo patterned

a scene where five is sitting at the breakfast table, half asleep, sipping a cup of coffee, and allison sits down next to him with a mug of hot cocoa (we can tell by the overabundance of whipped cream and marshmallows) and quietly swaps out his mug for the cocoa and he doesn’t even show any sign he noticed he just keeps sipping and allison either quietly finishes off his coffee or takes the initial mug and walks offscreen. cut scene

there’s a scene of klaus and ben in the 60s  on october first and ben is wearing a little ghost party hat and holding a single balloon

whenever sissy and vanya are in a room together careless whisper starts playing

remember that snl lesbian totinos sketch. yeah

the handler only addressed aj by his full name. ATLAS JERICHO CARMICAHEL.

dot is twice as tall as herb. i mean shes already taller than him but like, dot is Really tall. it’s implied dot and herb are married (it would be cute i think dont judge me)

when diego fucks with the infinity switchboard the thing like in cartoons happens where the screen fritzes out and everything goes black and then after a second or so his eyes appear

reginald dresses exclusively in green. im not saying he dresses like the onceler. but im not NOT saying that. *sigh* does this joke require a onceler tw tag on this post

i dont know if this post is what you had in mind but i hope you liked it anyway! <3

[doyelikehaggis]

oh god I want to ask abt many of ur wips but the one that v obviously stands out the most to me is valerine and the twins !! that ficlet u did for this concept with teh mb still lives in my head rent free so ofc I want to know how that fic is going. also 40 (bc what a concept !!) and/or 53 <33

I thought that would be the one that most interested you haha, of course you can know how it's going, I am very pleased that it lives rent free in your head. You obviously know the basic concept, which is that Valerie and Caroline get full custody of the twins, so we'll jump right into the snippet instead!

"I want to go for full custody." 

Valerie stops. Her hands are drenched in bubbles and soapy water, a plate in one hand and the sponge in her other. She looks more domestic than Caroline ever thought she'd see her, hair tied back loosely and wearing one of Caroline's softest plaid shirts. It's orange and pink. It's a good look on her. 

The smile that had been caught on her lips just a second ago has faded slightly as she processes what Caroline just said. In all fairness, it's a big thing to just casually throw out into a normal conversation while washing the dishes. 

"Okay," Valerie says slowly. "Um... Okay, that's a pretty big deal." She lets the plate slide back into the sink and turns to Caroline, shaking her head. "I mean, I think you should."

Caroline blinks. She was expecting a more alarmed response; usually, in tv shows and books, when one person says they want to get full custody of a kid, it's a big deal for the partner, right? They're not sure they can handle it, they're not sure their relationship will be able to get through it, all of that. 

Flat out agreement wasn't quite on the list. 

"Really?" she asks, straightening up with a surge of joyful hope. "You do? You're not -- you don't want to -- to talk about it or anything?" 

Valerie frowns, her brow wrinkling. Caroline's always liked the little crease it makes between her eyebrows. Not when she first met her, that was more satisfying, knowing she had stumped her. But recently, it's become a fond thing rather than one for her to be triumphant over. 

"Caroline, they're your kids," Valerie says. "If you want full custody of them, it's not my place to have a say in that." 

The hope is quickly pricked with a sharp little pin and bursts, deflating with a sad whistle. It weirdly stings her, too.

"That's... No, that's not how this works," Caroline says, weirdly hurt. Maybe she had been expecting a bit more hesitation surrounding the idea, but this feels worse. 

Valerie seems to be realizing that. Confused, grabs a towel from the sideboard and starts drying her hands, while she says, "It isn't?" 

"No!" Caroline laughs in disbelief. She steps forward and takes one of her partially dry hands in between both of her own. "No, it's absolutely not. Val, you are a big part of my life now. You know that, right?" 

Valerie hesitates now. Her mouth opens like she wants to agree, but her just runs along her teeth while that little crease in her eyebrows grows deeper. 

"Well, yeah," she quickly says after a moment, with Caroline's exasperated stare focused on her. "Of course I do. But I wouldn't stand in the way of any decisions you wanted to make about your kids, that's why I just thought this was more you telling me rather than something for us to talk about." 

Caroline's realizing that Valerie's response wasn't because she doesn't want to be part of the family. She just doesn't think that she is part of it. 

Which... actually hurts even more, Caroline finds. Because maybe that's on her. Has she been making her feel left out? Like she's a separate part of her life from Lizzie and Josie? That was the last thing she wanted. 

"Valerie," Caroline says seriously, and her eyes widen a little with worry. "Almost every decision that I make for my future is going to include your voice, because it's going to affect yours, too. That's what being in a relationship is, remember? So, if I tell you that I want to get full custody of Lizzie and Josie, I'm asking you to talk it through with me before anything goes ahead. Are you okay with having that conversation?" 

She has never seen Valerie look so stumped for what to say before. It's the first time they've had a conversation like this, one that's really going to affect both of them.

But even though she has that fight-or-flight, ready to flee at a moment's notice look in her eyes that she often gets, Valerie nods slowly. Then her face breaks out into a smile, and she breathes out a soft laugh, looking down. 

"Yeah," she says. "Yeah, I would love that."

Now, 40! Hope living with Jeremy! It is certainly a concept, isn't it?? This comes entirely from the start of season 2 of Legacies, when no one remembered Hope but she was sticking around Mystic Falls to help with the Malivore monsters. When watching that, my mum and I had been trying to guess who she was going to live with, because surely she wouldn't be living on her own and she couldn't stay at the school, so we came up with the theory that she was going to be living with Jeremy, who, as far as we knew, would have to have somewhere to live while he was in town. And then I decided that if she was going to be living with Jeremy, they would train together, he would help with some Malivore monsters, then they would slowly bond because Jeremy was actually kinda friends with Kol at one point. And then we have big brother Jeremy! Have a little snippet:

There's a loud thwacking noise from the back garden as Hope walks into the kitchen. She pauses momentarily in her sleepy state, registers the noise, then continues going about grabbing a bowl and her box of cereal. It's nearly empty, she finds, to her dismay. 

Once she's poured the last of the milk and tossed the carton, she opens up the back door and steps out into the garden. Her eyes adjust quickly to the darkness and hone in on the figure currently throwing a staff around at a tree like it has personally offended him.

"Are you ever worried that one day it's going to fight back?" she asks curiously. 

Jeremy startles and nearly drops the staff in his haste to turn around to face her. 

"I mean, dryads and wood nymphs are actually a thing. Just so you know. That tree might have a family that probably wouldn't appreciate you hitting it repeatedly for fun."

She spoons cereal into her mouth as Jeremy laughs. Relieved that she isn't some Malivore monster sneaking up on him, he relaxes enough to double over, hands on his knees as he breathes heavily. For someone who's not exactly unfit or unathletic, he gets out of breath incredibly easily.

Tilting her head, Hope asks, "Have you ever considered that you might be asthmatic? You breathe like one."

"And you talk like your uncle," Jeremy quips back, still laughing at her comments. He groans, straightening back up as he adds, "But yes, I do have asthma. Thanks for your concern."

Hope's heart beats a little faster. It always does when her family is mentioned, more often now than before. The urge to get on the bus and go home to them in New Orleans is still there, no matter how much she tries to ignore it. She needs to focus on Malivore's monsters. But it's hard sometimes.

She smiles to herself, wondering if he's right. She hopes so. Uncle Kol was always her favourite. The thought that she could be making him proud with just a few words fills her with a kind of happy pride she hasn't felt since Uncle Kol told her she was just like him for causing trouble at the Salvatore School. 

Then she wipes it off her face like she always does whenever he casually talks about her family, straightens up against the doorframe, and says, "Maybe you should use an inhaler, then. I wouldn't want you dropping dead while we're fighting a monster." 

"Hasn't happened yet!" 

She rolls her eyes at him, something she also finds herself doing often these days. It's easier to ignore him and continue eating her cereal while he goes back to training. Clearly, he has no concern about dryads coming after him for revenge.

"Hey, do you wanna join?" Jeremy calls over to her. 

He offers the staff out to her, but she shakes her. Motioning her cereal with her spoon, she smiles again, and says, "I'm good. Just came down for this. You have fun freezing out here, though."

She turns back inside the kitchen as Jeremy chuckles and shakes his head at her. "Good morning to you too."

53 is a good choice, I very much enjoy that one as well. "Klayley Wedding" is pretty much what it sounds like; Klaus and Hayley are together and getting married. They waited a while to do so, so Hope is seventeen and being pulled out of the Salvatore School for a few days in order to be there for it. And she's bringing a date! Here is your preview:

"Come on, humour me," Lizzie whines as she fusses with the back of Hope's hair. Why she agreed to let her style it, Hope has no idea; it was definitely a moment of bad judgment, but at the same time, it was let her do it when she begged, or be forever resented for saying no. 

And having Lizzie Laughlin-Forbes resent you is not something anyone in the Salvatore School risks. It's signing a death sentence. 

Rolling her eyes, Hope goes to shake her head then quickly stops when Lizzie holds it firmly on both sides and glares at her in the mirror. "No moving until I'm done!" she reminds her. "I haven't spelled it yet, you'll mess it up."

"Have you ever considered going into hairdressing?" Hope asks dryly, glaring back halfheartedly. Really, she doesn't mind her helping her out. 

It's at least better than her having to worry about it herself. Though, Aunt Rebekah is not going to be happy that she didn't let her do it. It's why she's practically been avoiding her since getting to New Orleans. 

Lizzie laughs shortly, then says, "Nice try. You're not wriggling out of the question."

Hope doesn't admit that's what she was trying to do, but it definitely was the intention. Lizzie has been a broken record since she found out that Hope was bringing a date to the wedding. At first, she was offended that Hope hadn't asked her, but then saw Hope's reasoning when she pointed out that she and Josie were already going to be there because of their mom.

"It's not a big deal!" Hope says, finally at least acknowledging the question. 

Lizzie scoffs. "Oh, of course not. Except, it absolutely is, and you know that it definitely is to Rafael. You basically asked him to meet your family, Hope. That's a big deal to most people."

"Not to you or Josie." 

"We've known your family since we were born!" Lizzie protests. She stops whatever she was doing to Hope's hair to stare at her in the mirror. "Rafael is head over heels in love with you, any person with barely working eyes -- or ears -- knows that. Except you, apparently!"

Hope shakes her head, once again forgetting Lizzie's rule. Lizzie quickly holds her head in place again, but she's too focused on the conversation at hand to lecture her again. 

"Maybe this is your way of letting him down without having to actually tell him!" Lizzie continues, obviously trying to get under her skin. "After all, you've invited him to meet your family, who are probably going to threaten him at every turn. Especially your dad, because of the whole macho alpha werewolf thing, you know?"

"My mom's actually the Alpha of the pack, not my dad," Hope corrects, but Lizzie brushes it off.

"After today, Rafael's probably not going to have any feelings for you anymore out of fear of your family, so, really, you won't have to do anything. I mean, it's smart -- a little cruel, but at least you don't have to do any of the hard work yourself, that's all up to your family--" 

"You make them sound terrifying," Hope protest with a touch of offence to her voice, staring up at Lizzie in the mirror. "They're not that bad. I actually think they'll like Raf." 

Lizzie raises an eyebrow. She's smiling.

"Is that because you want them to like him?" she asks slowly, and Hope groans, but Lizzie quickly presses on before she can interrupt, "Just admit you asked him to be your date because you like him!" 

"If I do, will you shut up and finish my hair so that we can go and meet Josie and Raf?" 

Lizzie lights up like a Christmas tree. She squeals excitedly, even though Hope technically hasn't even admitted anything yet. She's taking it as all the confirmation she needs. 

"I like him," Hope says anyway, and maybe she's smiling a little as well. "And yes, it would be convenient for me if my parents liked him before anything happened between us." 

"I knew it," Lizzie breathes out, shaking her head. She picks back up where she left off with Hope's hair as if nothing happened. "Now that that's over. Tell me, would your Aunt Rebekah mind if I borrowed that really gorgeous emerald bracelet she showed us yesterday?" 

Hope is laughing. Lizzie can't seem to figure out why, but honestly, Hope's just so happy in the moment that she can't help herself. For a moment on the way over to New Orleans, when everyone was packed onto that bus, shouting and arguing, she thought this was going to be a disaster. Someone would end up killing someone. 

There's still time for that, especially since neither she nor her mom have told her dad that she has a date. But Hope is finally living up to her name for once and is choosing to be hopeful that, actually, maybe everything is allowed to go right for once. 

God, writing those snippets took me so long, so apologies for the delay! But I actually enjoyed this a lot so thank you so much for giving me motivation! Who knows, I might actually finish writing them now! (God, now all I can think about is TVD and Legacies, I haven’t been here in ageeeees. Time to rewatch TVD season 1-6 and season 2 of Legacies, I think.)  

[i-like-5sos]

First Time Saying “I Love You” [4/4 ]

Pairing: Each 5SOS boy X reader  

Word count: 3152

Warnings: Absolutely none. Pure fluff.

Summary: Four different scenarios where each of the boys confess their feeling for you for the first time. 

Michael

“What did I miss?” You ask as you walk back into your living room and reclaim your spot laying down on the couch across form Michael, resting your legs on his.

“They decided to tear the support beam down and now they’re all pissed cause the upper floor is starting to cave in.” He replies, eyes glued to the renovation show you two put on as a joke earlier in the week because you couldn’t decide what to watch- but are now somehow invested in.

“Morons” you say shaking your head at the TV while laughing.

As the two of you become entranced by the do-it-yourselfers, you both melt deeper into the couch, becoming one with the cushions. A usual occurrence for the two of you, as you both prefer staying in and vegging out with one another to going out and partying. You two have powered through so many series on Netflix that you’re sure you’ll run out of new shows to watch before the end of the year, so it comes as no surprise when the screen shows you other shows you might be interested in as the credits roll on the screen at the end of the season finale of the home renovation show.

“Oh my god. How do they just end a show like that? They literally didn’t even show us what colour paint they picked out for the kitchen.” You complain loudly. “I mean the least they could have done is give us a preview of what’s to come next season. Honestly!”

You ramble on mindlessly about the show as the previews for other shows being to play automatically, only to pause when you hear Michael mumble something softly.

“What?” you ask, trying to recall what he had said.

“Nothing” he smiles softly, his cheeks a slight shade of pink. “I- uh think we should watch this one.” He says quickly, as he searches awkwardly around the couch for the remote and pressing the select button once he finds it under his back.

You turn your attention away from him and try to focus on the introductory credits of the show Michael put on when you suddenly clue into what he had said. I love you. You played it back in your head and you were sure of it. Returning your gaze to the still-blushing boy beside you, you knew heard right. But the moment had passed, and he was now discussing the outfit choice of one of the characters on the television.

***

Two months after the unacknowledged “I love you” drop, you find yourself almost asleep, laying in Michael’s bed with his arms wrapped around you. Your breathing is soft and steady with his as you hear him softly say your name.

“Are you awake?” He whispers quietly.

Too tired to respond, you just leave him to talk as you focus on listening and trying to stay awake long enough to hear what he has to say.

All is quiet, and you begin to believe he’s given up and will just tell you whatever he has to say in the morning.

“I love you.” He breathes, almost too quiet to hear.

Your eyes open as your heart skips a beat, and you roll over to face him. His arms loosen around you, and as your eyes adjust, you take in the look of shock on his face.

“I- uh… I thought you were asleep” Michael says, clearly embarrassed and very vulnerable having exposed his feelings.

“Michael, I love you too.” You smile, leaning in to kiss him.

 Luke

You look around your colourfully lit bedroom as you mindlessly play with the rings on Luke’s hand as the two of you sit together on your bed. You’ve always loved the look of Christmas lights on your walls and the calming feeling they provide.

“I’ve got an idea” Luke says, suddenly breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you.

“What’s that?” You ask, tuning your attention to look at the blue-eyed boy laying on the bed next to you.

“Let’s play Three Truths.” He suggests.

The two of you have been playing Three Truths since you first started talking. You had once suggested that you both play “Two Truths and A Lie” but he had insisted that he didn’t want you both to have to lie to one another, thus Three Truths was born. Together, you and Luke had decided that the only rule for the game was that everything you say must be true, and the other person couldn’t react to what you say until your turn ends. The two of you hadn’t played that game for a while now, but you were always open to learning more about your boyfriend.

“Okay, sure!” You say, excited to hear what he would come up with.

“You go first.” He says with a soft smile.

“I totally wasn’t prepared for this” You shake your head, “but let’s go with um… Okay, I’ve got it. Truth number one: I don’t want to have leftovers for dinner again tomorrow night. I would rather you cook something.” You watch as he shrugs and nods his head. “Truth number two: I sometimes untune your guitars because I think it’s hot watching you tune them… and truth number three: I think I want to dye my hair again.” You twist the rings on his fingers before looking at him again.

“Do you really do that to my guitars?” He asks in disbelief.

“Sometimes.” You flash him an apologetic smile and laugh as he shakes his head.

“What am I going to do with you.” He says, before kissing you on the forehead.

“Luke, it’s your turn.” You point out with enthusiasm.

“Alright… Let me think” His brow furrows as you watch him try to come up with something truthful to say. “Okay, I’ve got it! Truth number one: I ate the last of your chocolate bar this morning while you were asleep.”

“I knew it!” You shout and push him gently with your free hand.

“Hey! No talking! Wait your turn.” He interjected pointedly.

You raise your hands in a signal for him to continue before resting them in Luke’s again.

“As I was saying, truth number two: I actually didn’t mind getting that pedicure with you last week and I think I want to go again… and truth number three-“ He pauses and looks into your eyes before quickly looking down at your hand in his. “Um… truth number three is that I love you.”

Your face lights up as you release your hand from his to grab his face and pull it in for a kiss. He responds by wrapping his arms around you and pulling your body against his, falling back onto the bed. You lay there kissing one another for what feel like an eternity before you break apart and look into his eyes.

“I love you too.” You say, causing a smile to break across Luke’s face before he pulls you back into another kiss.

 Calum

Groaning loudly, you slam the front door and begin kicking your shoes off. Your goal: the couch. You plan to lay on the couch all night, ignore the world, and try to pretend that you didn’t just work a day from hell. Your eyes meet the pillow covered couch, and just as you begin to walk over to the only thing that could make your day better, your phone rings. Sighing, you look down to see the familiar nickname and face of you boyfriend, Calum, light up the screen. You instantly smile and soften up the slightest bit. Maybe the couch wasn’t the only thing that could make your day better.

“Hi baby” you say with your best ‘I didn’t just have a shitty day’ voice.

He’s quiet for a moment. “What’s wrong?”

Of course he can tell you’re upset. You continue your journey to the couch, and as you sit down, you let out another sigh and begin to tell him about your horrible day at work, your asshole bosses, and your realization of a mistake you’d made yesterday that you had to fix today, causing you to now be a day behind in your work. He listened attentively the entire time and once he knew you were done, he comforted you with the exact words you needed to hear.

“We should go on a hike. Get some of that negative energy out.” He suggests after filling your ears with his reassuring words

You look at the couch under you and pat it a few times, silently saying an ‘until next time’ to it before getting up and agreeing to have Calum pick you up after you’ve changed out of your work clothes.

***

Your fingers are intertwined as the two of you walk through the unfamiliar wooded trail on the outskirts of the city that Calum had found on his phone. If Duke playfully running around smelling all of the new scents on the trees and rocks that surrounded you wasn’t enough to make you smile, the mindless babblings of Calum certainly was. He was always so passionate about whatever he was talking about, even when he was talking about nothing. This was definitely one of those times. You listen to him as he goes off about how hard it must be to be a squirrel in the winter, having to find the food that they had hidden so long ago, especially with all of these other selfish squirrel’s stealing from each other. Normally you would try to step in and try to stand up for the other squirrels, telling him they needed to eat too, but during his ramblings, your mind has wondered back to all the work you still had left to complete, and you just don’t have the energy.

He must have noticed your lack of a rebuttal to his blatant disregard for the other hungry squirrels because he had stopped walking and was now looking at you with an empathetic gaze.

“You still upset about work?” He asked, squeezing your hand softly.

“It was just such a shitty day Cal. I don’t mean to bum you out. I should have just stayed home.” You drop your head and exhale deeply.

“No no, this is exactly what you should have done today.” Calum says, as you feel a tug at your arm. “Come with me.”

You tour behind him in your own pity party of one as he leads you off of the trail, towards a nearby cliffside.

“This is the perfect spot.” He beams, gesturing to the open cliffside in front of you.

“Cal? That’s a little dark, don’t you think?” you say before peering over the edge of the small cliff to the hill of trees below you.

“Are you ser- no ohmigod.” He laughs “Come on, we’re going to try something my mom showed we when I was younger. Whenever I was having a bad day, she would always bring me to places like this and tell me to yell out the first thing that comes to mind, and to keep yelling until there was nothing left to yell about. My throat would always be killing me by the end of it, but I would always feel better. I want you to try it.” He squeezes your hand again and smiles hopefully at you.

You really didn’t want to be here, yelling your pointless work problems out to the world and feeling like a moron, but the smile on your boyfriend’s face and the admission of the personal memory he shared with his mother was enough to make you do anything. You look at him apprehensively before turning your attention to the trees below you.

“I… uh…” You look back at Calum and he smiles softly at you before nodding. “I sometimes hate my job” you say in a not-quite-yelling tone.

“Come on baby, you’ve got to yell it! Here, like this: I wish duke would stop peeing on my shoes every time I leave him alone in the house!” He yells out, making Duke jump a little at the mention of his name before he continued to smell the mossy tree next to Calum.

You let out a chuckle at the purity of his smiling face after he yelled out his complaint.

“Try it again.” He encouraged before kissing your cheek.

You take a deep breath and follow his lead “I am so mad at myself for being so far behind in my work all because I made one small mistake yesterday!”

You feel embarrassed yelling it out, but at the same time you begin to feel slightly better. Although, the smile on Calum’s face could be aiding you just as much.

“There should be an easier way to parallel park!” He shrugs and laughs when you shoot him a confused look.

“My feet hurt from wearing heels all day! Business dress codes are stupid!”

“I’m a little worried we could be eaten by mountain lions on our way back to the car!”

“I’m a little worried about my boyfriend being a moron!” You let out a loud laugh at the scowl Calum gives you.

“It could happen, you know.” He mumbles.

“On a hiking trail next to a big city? I doubt that.” You say giggling softly. “It’s your turn.”

You watch as he begins to smile again, blushing slightly.

“I think I’m falling in love with my girlfriend!” He bites his bottom lip softly before smiling sheepishly at you.

You return his smile and pull him in by the hand, kissing him tenderly.

“I love you” he says against your lips.

“I love you too, Calum.” You reply as his arms wrap around your waste.

Ashton

You gasp out for air after swimming up from the bottom of your backyard pool and look around for your boyfriend. Your eyes lock onto the Ashton-shaped figure quickly emerging from the water a couple of feet from you. You smile widely at the soaking wet raven-haired boy as he treads the water and brushes the hair from his eyes with his hands.

“I win!” you shout enthusiastically and use your arm to splash a wave of water at Ashton.

You watch as he ducks under the water again to avoid your splash. When he resurfaces, he shakes his head.

“Okay that’s not fair. You were supposed to count down with your fingers, not in your head. That was the agreement to letting you count!” He raises his arm back at you indicating the tidal wave of water that will -no doubt- be headed you way any second. “And another thing!” He shouts while simultaneously slashing his arms through the water at you, “What happed to our no splashing deal?!”

“Sorry, Irwin. I’m hearing a lot of excuses but I’m not seeing any winning. If the counting is that big of an issue, you can count… but just the one time.” You stick your tongue out at him as water drips down your face. “Also, no splashing deals are for pansies.”

Just as you see his arms begin to raise to send more water your way, you dive under the water and swim over towards him. You submerge face to face with Ashton and place your hand on his cheek before giving him a quick peck on the lips.

“One more time and we can do something else.” You say smiling and swimming back to your previous spot.

“Deal” He agrees.

The two of you count down from three then begin to swim towards the bottom of the pool at the same time. Once at the bottom you open your eyes to find his looking back at you. You turn your attention to his right hand as he then holds five fingers up, and you nod at him. You watch as he uses his hand to count down from five, and as he his final finger drops, you both use your legs to shoot up off the pool floor up towards the surface of the water. Once there, you quickly wipe the water away from your eyes to see Ashton already above the water, smirking at you.

“How’s that for winning?” He snickers.

“I demand a recount!” You shout.

“No can-do babe. You said it yourself, we’re doing something else now.” He winks before swimming to the shallow end of the pool. “We could play that lip-reading game from last week if you’re up for losing some more.”

“If that’s the game we’re playing then you know I’m not the one that’s going to be losing, right?”

You follow him into the shallow end and smile to yourself. Last week when you had played this game, he couldn’t guess a single thing you had mouthed to him, whereas you had guessed everything he had mouthed with ease.

“We’ll just see about that.” He says, settling into a spot in front of you. “Ladies first.”

The two of you drop under the water and wait a moment for your eyes to adjust. Once you were both ready, you quickly think of something to mouth at him.

“Octopus” you mouth, before blowing bubbles out of your mouth and heading back up.

Once at the surface again you can’t help but laugh at the pure confusion on his face.

“Uh.. ‘On the bus’? He guesses shrugging his shoulders.

You shake your head “Nope! Octopus!” You laugh again as his face deadpans and he rolls his eyes. “Okay your turn!”

You both drop and he mouths what is obviously “potatoes” to you and you both go up for air.

“Potatoes!” You shout.

“You must have some kind of mind reading ability you’ve been hiding from me” he says and nods to confirm your guess.

You drop for a third time and you mouth out the word “cactus”.

“You totally said tip-toe” He says confidently once out of the water again.

“Ashton… do your eyes even work?” You joke “I said Cactus.”

“Oh, whatever.” He laughs “I’m making this one harder for you.”

“Bring it on.”

The two of you duck under the water again, and as the water settles you look at Ashton, waiting for him to mouth his new word. You watch as his mouth moves, and you study the words that he mouths to you carefully. You play it back in your head a couple of times to make sure that you were right about what he had mouthed.  Once above the water, you stare at him for a moment before stating your guess out loud.

“I love you?” You ask, slightly weary.

His smile is infectious as he nods at you.

“A little straightforward, aren’t we? Well, I guess I love you too.” He chuckles and swims towards you before cupping your chin in his big hands.

You laugh at the very ‘Ashton’ way of confessing his feelings for you, before kissing him deeply.

[charmandhex]

A TOTALLY UNOFFICIAL AND VERY MUCH NOT SANCTIONED BY NBC OPENING SCENE FOR AN AS OF YET NONEXISTENT PILOT OF THE ADVENTURE ZONE: BALANCE ANIMATED SHOW THAT I AM 100% NOT GETTING PAID FOR

Credit to: the McElboys

No credit to: me, Charm H. Adventurezone, sleep deprived [job title redacted] and overly ambitious fic writer

[Our opening shot is of the world of Abeir-Toril (or whatever the fuck we’re going to call it to avoid copyright issues idk that redacted job title up there sure isn’t lawyer) as it drifts through the Prime Material Plane. From here, we can see little but clouds, water, and land masses. One regular-sized moon orbiting the world drifts into view. If you look closely, but you’re only looking closely because you’re a nerd who knows what to look for, you can see a much, much smaller moon -THAT’S NO MOON got there first Clint what now- drifts over a massive, still lake and a brightly colored spot that we might know to be Neverwinter, wait- Eversummer, hm, that was graphic novel, but can we use that there?- KINDASPRING there we go. The initial shot is quiet, for a moment, before seven notes -yes those ones folks- ring out.]

GRIFFIN [audio only]: I can guess what you’re probably all expecting. Some big, dramatic speech to match the big, dramatic intro we’ve got going on here. [As Griffin talks, we start to zoom in on a continent conveniently labeled NOT-FAERUN. We fly by our much smaller moon, but not close enough to see anything of interest – yet. We see Kindaspring, all busy and fantasy and so on. We catch a glimpse of a city buried in the shadow of a mountain range, with a bunch of dudes who all look the same. A city on a cliff, a shining gold monument in the center and trails of dust on a track around the city. Canyons, and a dash of pearlescent color just for a moment. Blink and you miss it, and a flash of a black and white tent in the woods near Kindaspring. You get the picture.] But, fact of the matter is, folks, we kinda blew all the budget on this one shot! Completely boned it in the first two seconds! So, let’s get right into it and roll some fuckin’ initiative- oh, can I say fuck? Are we allowed to do that, here on NBC Peacock? Shit, I’m going to completely bone our cussing budget too- anyway! Let’s roll some initiative and meet our heroes.

[Zoom in on wagon on road outside Kindaspring. It’s not a very impressive wagon. There are patches on the canvas. The wheels are all creaky and bouncy over the dirt road. The horses look like they could use a nap. There are stink lines, y’all. The road, meanwhile, is pretty well-used. There are ruts, and the sides of the road run clean and even. It’s surrounded by woods, and we’re far enough out of Kindaspring to not get any noise from the city, nor close enough to our destination to even get a hint of whatever the fuck I’m going to have to call Phandalin that isn’t Phandalin.

But back to our characters. Right now, only one is visible, a buff human man, like super buff, no you don’t understand animators, he must be a brick shithouse of a man, he’s very sensitive about this. He has massive muscles and massive sideburns, and he looks way too happy to be driving this wagon. You just know the vehicle proficiency jokes are coming. Cartoon GRIFFIN pops up in the corner of the screen, looking unimpressed.]

GRIFFIN: …Well, maybe not heroes. Three… boys. Three very messy, very murder hobo, very horny boys. [A beat.] Tres horny boys, if you will. So, uh, first up is-

MAGNUS [aware of Griffin and waving at everyone- listen, fourth wall breaks are kinda a thing for me, folks]: I’m Magnus Burnsides, human fighter! [Stat card for Magnus pops up on the side. There’s a not very flattering picture with it.] Also… [with the wagon reigns in hand, he starts counting off on his fingers, concentrating] Uh, master carpenter, man of action, rush into battle- oh, and I’m from Raven’s Roost, and-

[The canvas flaps blow open behind MAGNUS, and MAGNUS’S stat card disappears with a pop and a tiny bit of white smoke. TAAKO steps out, already exasperated and swinging a hand, colliding with MAGNUS’S head and pushing it to the side.]

TAAKO: Yeah, save the backstory for like… 40 more episodes, my dude. We don’t have time for that shit right now.

GRIFFIN: O-kay, guess we’re just gonna assume we can swear whenever we want.

[As GRIFFIN is talking, TAAKO stops pushing on MAGNUS’S head.]

TAAKO [triumphant, shouting]: FUCK!

[Flock of birds flies out of the trees.]

GRIFFIN: So this is Taako, the elf wizard [TAAKO’S stat card pops up. Much more flattering picture.] and-

TAAKO: That’s Taako, you know, from… podcast, elf wizard and baller chef, yes, thank you, very much. AND very, very beautiful. [TAAKO does a hair flip. There are sparkles and magical sounds.] And very, very bored. [TAAKO’S stat card disappears.] How far away is this fuckin’ town? What’s it called again?

MAGNUS [shrugging]: Beats me. [To GRIFFIN] Did we come up with a name that doesn’t violate copyright?

GRIFFIN [evading the question, because I still am]: Aaaaaaaaaaaaand last but not least, Merle Highchurch. [A beat. GRIFFIN sighs.] Merle, that’s your cue.

MERLE [inside the tent]: Wha? Somebody say my name? [Canvas flaps rustle rustle rustle. MERLE’S face pops out, looking around owlishly. He also steps out to the front of the wagon.]

MAGNUS [now very crowded and still trying to drive]: You missed your cue, old man.

MERLE [indignant]: I was busy studying my cantrips!

TAAKO and MAGNUS [in unison]: Gross!

MERLE: No, not like-

GRIFFIN [interrupting]: And Merle is a cleric! [MERLE’S stat card pops up. The picture was taken too high, so we can only see MERLE’S hair and forehead.]

MERLE: I’m a what now?

GRIFFIN [overly enthusiastic, it’s a bit now, folks]: Now, for those of you who aren’t familiar, clerics are kind of a support class magic user. They can cast things like buffs-

MERLE: Huh?

GRIFFIN [still overly enthusiastic]: and heal their party members-

MERLE: I can do that?

GRIFFIN: Clerics also serve gods, and Merle’s god is Mort-

MERLE [indignant again]: Hang on! That doesn’t sound right!

GRIFFIN [pushing out of his little bubble and leaning into the scene]: Then who is your god?

MERLE: Uh… Pan! [MERLE pulls out the Extreme Teen Bible.] See? Pan!

MAGNUS [whispering to TAAKO]: Okay, I guess this is how we’re resolving that whole thing. [TAAKO shrugs. MERLE is smiling. It’s adorable, like those little smiles Carey Pietsch does I love them so much, y’all.]

GRIFFIN: So, Magnus, Taako, Merle. Off on an adventure of epic proportions. [GRIFFIN is getting excited.] Full of action and danger and goofs and found family and-

MAGNUS: Now hold on! Epic proportions? Epic? [MAGNUS waves a hand around at the generally pretty chill woods, the boring road, and the stink lines wagon.]

TAAKO: Yeah, so far this is snoozeville, population, uh, me and these two chucklefucks.

MERLE [peering at GRIFFIN]: you sure you got the right dnd party, bud?

GRIFFIN [looking at audience]: We’re still negotiating contracts, so I’m filling in for, uh… someone. So for now, hey, I’m Griffin McElroy, your Dungeon Master, your best friend, and your announcer for this pilot episode. Ahem. [GRIFFIN clears his throat.] Grab your shields and ready your spell slots. Strap in your asses and… really, just strap in your asses. And, for the very first time, welcome to the animated version of… THE ADVENTURE ZONE!

[Title card and Mort Garson’s “Déjà Vu” plays. All my ideas went into dialogue, folks. Fan artists, this one’s all yours.]

[We pop back into the same scene as before.]

MAGNUS: Yeah, so, uh, like we were saying, before, uh, whatever that was, what we’re doing now is-

TAAKO [interrupting]: Hold on! We are not, I repeat, not doing some dumb recap where we explain this boring job... unless…

MAGNUS, MERLE, and GRIFFIN [all have gone laser eye meme]: UNLESS?

TAAKO [singing]: Flashback sequence!

[There’s a loud POP! as the scene shifts, and we’re now in your standard fantasy tavern. There’s a table with four chairs right in front of us, all of which are empty. The tavern acts as a backdrop behind that, illustrating just how fantasy this world is. We see humans and elves and dwarves yes, because we’ve already seen them, but also Gnomes and tieflings and haflings and orcs and Genasi and aarakocra (try spelling that one, folks ;) I’m sure that won’t come up later) and so on and so forth.

There’s another POP! as GRIFFIN’S window reappears in the upper right corner. He looks slightly ruffled.]

GRIFFIN [straightening his hair and glasses]: Wow, that is going to take some getting used to. Anyway, the boys should be here in a second, and-

[Three more pops as MAGNUS, TAAKO, and MERLE appear in three of the four seats at the table. MERLE lands upside down. He immediately starts struggling to right himself]

MAGNUS [looking at the empty chair and frowning]: Wait, what was the name of the guy we were meeting again? Gumdrop?

TAAKO: Hm… Gurgle? Guava? Gumbo?

MERLE [having finally righted himself]: No! My cousin, uh… um… oh, that’s right, Gundren!

[As MERLE says GUNDREN, another pop as GUNDREN pops into existence in the chair. He looks like if you put MERLE through a grinder, not like we’re gonna run into one of those in an episode or two, right, fellas?

Nasty boy that he is, GUNDREN lets out a grunt and then spits on the floor. People have to clean that, GUNDREN! This is why you- (SPOILERS REDACTED)- anyway.]

GUNDREN: So, like I was saying, boys. You take my wagon from here in Kindaspring down the road to Mandolin-

TAAKO: Oh, that’s what we’re calling it?

MERLE: I thought that was another TV show?

[Up in the corner, GRIFFIN shrugs.]

GUNDREN: Uh… yes? That’s… what it’s called? [GUNDREN looks suspiciously at them. It seems like he’d give the job to someone else in an instant, if literally anyone else would take the job. But magically, he’s stuck with these boys.] But, uh, you get my wagon and my goods to Mandolin, and I’ll let you in on the next job. And that job, boys… [GUNDREN laughs. It sounds like if you threw rocks in a blender.] That’s the kinda job that will be the last job you ever need to take.

MAGNUS [cheerfully]: Well, that sounds murdery!

[There’s a loud POP! and we’re back on the wagon again, all of our boys already in place.]

GRIFFIN [shrugging, smiling]: Guess you’re going to find out! Oh, and boys… let’s roll initiative.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

The Prankster Queen is dethroned; SPN & Lucifer cast x teen reader

*Author’s note*

Well this was a LOOOOOONG time request from my Wattpad account but I finally got some motivation to write and finish this fic. Now I talked with the requestor about this and some changes were made, originally this was gonna involve Criminal minds cast but I had barely watched the show at the time so I talked with them and they agreed to have this be a SPN X LUCIFER cast crossover. So I hope you all enjoy this little fic and until the next update.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@ixchel-9275​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@platawnic​

__________________________________________________________

“Okay guys; here we are back at the Supernatural set ready to start filming the 2nd half of season 14. Before I get into the special prank on Alex day I want to first send a very special thanks to the Lucifans for the #SaveLucifer and thank Netflix for renewing a season 4 and 5 of Lucifer.  Yes I am a fan of that show as well. I mean I’ve got to my dad plays the famed Devil himself. No, no, no, no, no I’m joking. I watch the show because I really love what they did with it. The writing is phenomenal and the cast is super friendly. They’re like my second family next these guys here at Supernatural.”

I spoke through my Youtube channel streaming live.  I could already see comments popping up along my livestream. Comments like ‘YASS LUCIFERXSPN SUPPORT’ or Winchester sister stans Lucifer.

“Yes I do thank you. Now for the moment you’ve all waited for. I’ve got the plastic wrap, the super glue, feathers, and fan. And of course the star of this prank on Alex, my baby boy Shadow.” I then presented my black German Shepherd who was lying on Alex’s trailer couch. “You ready to prank Alex boy?” he tilted his head to the side. “You ready to prank him?” he let out a bark and I cooed. “Good boy!” I flipped my camera back around and said. “Now Jared kindly set up the camera just a bit ago so I will transition to that in just a little while. For now I’m going to set up the door so please enjoy this fast forward montage of me getting the prank set up.”

I spread the super glue all around the plastic wrapping and tapped it across Alex’s trailer door so that when he would run right into it, he would get trapped with the plastic wrapping before I would attack with the pillow filled with feathers.

“Okay everything’s all set up. Now for the final touch, c’mon boy up on the bed.” He got off the couch and into Alex’s bed and just lay there at the foot of it. “Good boy.” I opened the trailer door and waited for Alex to come around.  Once I saw him walking alongside Misha, I cried out. “ALEX! ALEX! SHADOW’S TAKING A SHIT ON YOUR BED!!”

“What!?”

“I’m not kidding I was walking him and he just ran in here and literally shit on your bed! Bad dog!”

“Shadow! Shadow! Damnit Shadow!” Alex then ran up and just like I hopped, he slammed right into the plastic wrap and fell right to the ground.  I then pelted him with the pillow till his entire face was covered with feathers.

“BOOM SUCKA!!! That’ll teach you to eat my big cookie.” I told him.

“Okay maybe I deserved that.”

“Wow (y/n), all this for a cookie?” Misha said as he helped Alex back up on his feet.

“Misha you don’t understand. Those cookies were my mum’s special recipe. Plus she makes them so big that you can eat it in the space of a week. I was saving the last bit of it and then this guy decides it’s a good idea to eat the last of it.” I said pointing to Alex.

“You know….one of these days. We’re gonna get you back. Everyone that you’ve pranked, we’re gonna get you.” Alex spoke as he coughed out trying to get the feathers out of his mouth.

“The day that happens is the day J2(I/l) turns on each other. And the boys and I have been doing this for a long, long time.” I sassed as I snapped my finger and Shadow hopped off Alex’s bed and we left the trailer.

Little bit about myself; the names (Y/n) Ellis, the last name sound familiar? Yep you thought right. Tom Ellis aka Lucifer Morningstar is my father.  He and I have been in the acting business together for a good amount of years.  In fact he’s helped me when it came to running lines or dealing with the pressures of the acting life, especially since I started off as a child actor at the age of 5.

I had a few small roles, but when I was just 9 years old a role on a little show called Supernatural came knocking at my door.  As a young British girl I was worried that I wouldn’t get it because this was an American tv show and I had to speak with an American accent.  But thanks to a good dialect coach, and 2 test screenings with the boys to see if we were a fit, I got to play the role of Sarah Winchester, the younger half-sister of Sam and Dean who was cursed with witch powers.

But instead of killing her, Sam and Dean actually take her in and she uses her magic for good instead of evil.  For years the Supernatural cast didn’t just become an ordinary job, it was like being home, we became a family.  Jared and Jensen were like the big brothers I never had (even though they were around my dad’s age).

When things got too tough around set, J2 always found a way to make me smile and laugh. And as the years passed, Misha came on board followed by the 2 Marks, Ruth, Brianna and Kim, Osric, Rob and Richard, and now finally Alexander Calvert.  The Supernatural family is a tight bond and we all send out a powerful message that Family don’t end in blood, and to Always Keep Fighting when things got bad.

Then when season 11 of my show was being filmed, my dad had gotten the role of Lucifer Morningstar in Fox’s new tv series “Lucifer” which was basically the story of the devil taking a vacation from Hell and he ends up working with the LAPD alongside a clever detective named Chloe Decker.

When Lucifer exploded every time I went to conventions, fans always ask me questions about potential crossovers or what I thought of the show.  And truthfully I loved it.  In fact whenever I would wrap on my time on a season, I took the hour and 45 minute drive where they filmed Lucifer and spend time with my dad and the Lucifer cast.

Lauren, Aimee and Lesley became my partners in crime when it came to the subtle pranks on the Luci cast or even my dad.  Aimee and I are always making Instagram videos of each other acting like complete nutjobs, she’s like the older sister I’ve always wanted (since I am the eldest of my three sisters).

But that’s my life, and if you were to ask me if I could trade it away for anything else, I would tell you hell no (no pun intended).

After getting Shadow back into my trailer, I decided to see if my dad was willing to talk. I grabbed my I-Pad and went over to Facetime and clicked my dad’s name (of course I added the devil emoji beside his name).  It rang about five times before I finally got an answer.

“There’s my little She-devil.” He answered with a smirk.

“Hey dad.” I said with a smile.

“Aimee saw your prank on that Alex chap.”

“She like it?”

“Mini Ellis you are a she-devil genius!” Aimee soon came into the frame. “You got to show me how that brilliant mind of yours works.”

“Guess I learned from two of the very best. I know exactly how to push buttons but not go overly extreme that it hurts someone’s soul. I’m not completely soulless like Jared is when it comes to pranks.”

“I still can’t believe he actually cut one of his credit cards. That’s super low.” She said.

“I know. I’ve been trying to get him to ease back and not go quite extreme. So far he hasn’t done it knock on wood.”

“Anyways you two, what brings on this call my dove?” my dad asked.

“Just wanted to call and see how you were doing. How’s season 4 coming along?”

“Great. Everything is great. Thanks to the Lucifans, and the Supernatural family.” My dad said.

“No sweat. You’re my dad. I’m still pissed that FOX could just cancel your show like that. And the way they would���ve ended it. God that’s literally the worst cliffhanger ever!”

“Tell me about it.” Aimee groaned.

“But it’s all fixed now. Netflix will take good care of us now. Plus we don’t have as much restrictions as FOX gave us.” My dad teased.  I then heard a knock at my trailer door which made Shadow raise his head up from his bed and his attention turned toward the door.

“Hang on dad, who is it?!”

“It’s Jared! C’mon kiddo they need us on set now.”

“Alright I’ll be there in a minute.” I turned back to my dad and Aimee and my dad said to me.

“Go on, we’ll catch up later.”

“Alright dad. Give my love to the rest of the cast.”

“You already have my love mini Ellis.” Aimee said.

“Love you Aims!”

“Alright darling love you. Stay safe and have fun filming your next season.” The two of them blew me a kiss goodbye and I waved bye to them and the Facetime shut off. I put my phone aside and quickly refilled Shadow’s water bowl before I took off and raced towards the set.

Although unbeknownst to both Jared and Jensen something was waiting for them.  As I walked in on the set I sat down at the spot where my character Sarah was to sit for this upcoming scene.

“Okay guys on cue marks. Cue lighting and roll sound.” I got into the mindset of Sarah and took the prop book in my hands as our director called out, “Okay cue Jensen and Jared. And…..action.” it was then Jensen came down the staircase while Jared came out from the back corridor.

“Hey, so any word from Jodie?” Jensen asked as Dean to Jared.

“No not yet. Hey Sar, any luck with the research?” Jared asked me as Sam.

“Not a damn thing. God even for a witch like me I still can’t figure out the spell to get us to that other place. I’m sorry guys I may be strong, but I’m not Rowena strong.”

“No, no it’s alright. It’s okay. We’ll……find another way.” Then Jared and Jensen took their seats before suddenly jolting upwards and letting out girlish screams of shock and pain.

“CUT!!!” our director called out.

“The hell was that!?!” Jensen proclaimed.

“Oh thank god I thought it was just me.” Jared sighed with relief.  I kept my poker face up as I said to them.

“What happened just now?”

“Something shocked us. I don’t know what but whatever it was, it should never have shocked me back there. My butt does not deserve that kind of treatment!” he looked around the cushioned seat until he found some sort of electronic shock pad. It was slightly smaller than the cushioned pad and as soon as Jensen took hold of it and pressed a certain button, it caused another shock to run through his arm as he swore out loud and shake his arm.

“Uhh Jensen why would you do that?” I asked him.

“I don’t know I needed to see if it was real or not don’t judge me!”

“How the hell did these even get here?” asked Jared.

“No idea.” Jensen said.  I covered my smile as I tried to act inconspicuous but that’s when the two of them looked at me. “You did this?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I said as I stood up and strutted out of the room sassily to run into Misha and I told him. “Your revenge plot has been successfully played out.”

“I knew I could count on you (n/n). Thanks.”

“No problem, but just know Misha all things come at a price with me. Pranking the kings don’t come without consequence.”

“I know, I know. But still I thank you for doing this for me. That’ll teach Jared to put old cheese in my pillow.”  I patted his arm before leaving him to reset the scene again.

Weeks passed and filming continued on up until I was finally done with my scenes which meant that I was now allowed to travel on up to the Lucifer set and pop in and say hello.  After bidding everyone goodbye until July, I got into the car and my driver Tommy drove me on up towards the studio where my dad and the rest of the Lucifer family were filming.

After finally arriving on the set, I saw Lauren and Aimee out and about with a Starbucks cup in their hands.  As soon as they saw my car, they immediately waved.  I rolled down my window and said.

“What up my Luci sistas!”

“Ahhh mini-Ellis!” Aimee proclaimed.  Once the car stopped, I stepped out and I raced towards her and she met me in the middle as the two of us embraced each other tightly, rocking aggressively from side to side.  “Where’s big Shadow? You usually bring him with you whenever you’re done with shooting.”

“Well for some reason Misha wanted to keep him around set. Guess he must’ve needed the fluffy protection from Jared and Jensen after the prank I pulled on them a few weeks back.”

“What’d you do to them?” asked Lauren.

“Just put a shock pad cushion underneath their chairs. Misha told me to do it to get back at Jared for putting old cheese in his pillow.”

“Wow those guys are relentless huh?” said Aimee.

“Yep. But enough of that now, let’s get going. I wanna watch you guys film some stuff.”

“Alright! C’mon kiddo let’s go.” Lauren wrapped her arm around me before playfully giving me a noogie while guiding me onwards to the set.

I greeted my Lucifer family like D.B, Kevin, Lesley-Ann, Rachael, and of course young Scarlett (ever since the show I officially adopted her as my younger sister).

“So, have you guys seen my dad anywhere?” I asked.

“Last we saw him he was leaving his trailer for costume and makeup.” Aimee said.

“Perfect.”

“What have you got in mind she-devil?” asked Lauren with a grin.

“Ohhh not much.” I grinned as I walked towards the costume and makeup trailers.

Once I got there, I had spotted my dad just getting out from the costume trailer in the full Lucifer suit.  I grinned mischievously and slowly stalked towards him.  This was something that I used to always do to him when I was a little girl, it’s been awhile but I hope I still got it.  Like a tigress on the prowl I stalked behind my dad silent and carefully.

Whenever he turned around, I would hide behind anything I could whether it was the side of a trailer/tent, or even one of the many gold carts/motorbikes.  Then when he would resume his walk, I trailed behind him once again.  Closer and closer I got till finally I was within strike range.

The mighty huntress has cornered her prey.

I then trotted forward before leaping up but I was foiled when my dad turned around and managed to catch me and spin me around for a moment in his arms.

“Thought you’d sneak up on my again huh my little tigress? After all these years I finally caught you red handed.”

“Took you over 20 years but no time like the present eh?” my dad smirked down at me, the smirk that I had inherited from him, and said as he booped my nose.

“I just know when my daughter feels a little extra cheeky.” He bopped my nose as he said ‘cheeky’ which made me playfully stick my tongue out at him. “And put that tongue away young lady we are not a snake.”

“Wrong. Don’t you remember I got sorted into Slytherin when we went to Harry Potter world.”

“Yes I do recall that. But that’s still no excuse. Stick that tongue out at me again and I’ll give you a good whopping, do I make myself clear.”

“Yes father.” I submitted.  He pecked my forehead before releasing me.

“So, you’ve finished with your filming?”

“Yep. Managed to wrap up a little early, at least for me.”

“Now I’ve been hearing a lot of rumors about you potentially branching off and getting your own spinoff series?”

“Well I don’t like to brag but it’s still a rumor. Not even I can confirm it. Besides, who knows if the CW will allow it. I mean don’t get me wrong the other two sub-series I didn’t agree with but Wayward Sisters, I would’ve LOVED to see that become something. Maybe have Sarah make a few surprise appearances.”

“Well, if the CW don’t allow it, maybe Netflix will. You never know. I could put in a good word for you.”

“Thanks dad.”

“Tom! Hey Tom! Susan needs you in makeup stat. You’re shooting in ten.” One of the make artists came racing up to us.

“Oh fu—sorry about that Johnny.” My dad wrapped an arm around my shoulders and the two of us walked towards the makeup trailer so that he could get ready.

After doing a quick touch up on my dad, the two of us left for the LAPD set and everyone was already running around getting to their marks or getting the cameras rolling.  I sat right next to the director Sherwin as he was calling for cameras to focus and start rolling.  Finally he called action and I got to sit and watch the new Netflix: Lucifer finally be filmed.

It was a long day of shooting and filming but it was a very productive day.  I even got to learn about directing since (spoiler alert! I get to direct an episode this season of Supernatural!).  I was currently right now sitting with my dad sipping a cup of tea.

“Now I know that one episode that witches have familiars. If Sarah were to have a familiar, which pet would she have and who would you want to play that familiar?” I hummed.

“Well. No offense to the women but most of the time when a new female comes on Supernatural she always ends up being a bitch. With the exception of Kim, Bri, Ruthie, Felica, and the rest of the Wayward sisters. So I’d have to say Sarah would want a male familiar. And yes while I do love dogs and would KILL to have Shadow actually be in front of the camera, I think she’d prefer a cat. Now for the actor to play him. Now don’t laugh but—this is my fantasy dream cast…..”

“Oh just get on with it will you little missy! Stop droning on!” my dad whined. I mimicked his whining before I finally admitted.

“Gwilym Lee okay!”

“The Welsh actor from that Midsomer murders series you used to watch?”

“Yeah, why not? I think he’d make a perfect cat familiar. Wise, loyal, good fighter. And—not that bad looking if I may say.”

“Alright down girl. I swear you and Aimee have been fawning over actors far too much.”

“Then you do not want to see me with the young Wayward sisters. We’re a lot worse. Plus it gets awkward when they start talking about you. Especially when it involves the Lucifer cast.”

“Oh my god.” He groaned.

“I know right!? It’s bad enough I hear from the fans about how much of a ‘thirsty dad’ you are. But now I have to hear it at work!” before my dad could say anything else, Lesley came running in with a worried look on her face. “Whoa Les, where’s the fire at?”

“You gotta call the Supernatural set (y/n).” she panted out.

“Why what’s going on?”

“I don’t know something about Shadow.” Without hesitation I took my phone out and dialed Misha’s number.  It rang and rang and as it kept ringing I grumbled.

“C’mon Misha pick up your bloody phone already!”

‘Hello?’

“Misha what’s going on!? What happened to my son!?”

‘I’m sorry (y/n) Jared was eating some M&M’s earlier and he left the table for one second and the next thing he saw was Shadow eating the M&M’s he had managed to knock down on the floor!’

“WHAT!?!?!?!?”

‘Just come by over here, he’s been whimpering and we don’t know the contact information to the vet.’

“Okay I’ll be there as soon as I can. Try to make him as comfortable for me as possible. Okay! Tell him mummy’s on her way!”

‘Okay I will. And (y/n). Hurry!’ I hung up the phone and raced off.

“Whoa, whoa mini-Ellis where are you off too in such a hurry?” Kevin said as he and Aimee were walking back from the catering (after I had noticed the chocolate doughnut in Aimee’s hand).

“Shadow’s sick! Ate M&M’s. I gotta go!” I couldn’t even form a proper sentence as I raced outside and phoned my driver to hurry the fuck back to the set and drive me back to the Supernatural set.

Thankfully, he was right outside and the second I jumped right on in, I banged on the back window and ordered him to drive and soon he was off.  Oh Shadow baby hang in there baby boy!

Finally after what felt like an eternity (I don’t know why the driver had taken the long way around. Said it was fucking traffic or something like that). But before the car could even come to a complete stop, I jumped out of the car and raced towards the building calling out Shadow’s name.

I quickly raced into the main Supernatural set to see that it was completely empty.

“Shadow!? Shadow! Here boy!” I whistled.  Just hearing the way Misha had talked on the phone it made me really worried about my baby boy’s health.  And now just not seeing him come on command when he’s supposed to, got me really anxious.

I walked further through the main set (which was the map room of the bunker) when I felt myself slightly trip forward and I looked down to see a tripwire.  Oh shit.

SPLASH! I jumped as I let out a shriek when a small water balloon fell right at my feet.  A split second later another dropped on the other side of me but still close enough to my feet.  I jumped two more times as two more water balloons splashed right by me.

“Really guys? If you’re gonna do something like that at least have good aim.” But I was unaware of the enormous water balloon that was now starting to roll down. When I looked up, my heart sunk as I slowly let out a scream and soon I was drenched.

But it wasn’t water.  Well normal water anyway, when I had looked at myself I had seen that I was now covered head to toe in the famed fake blood the makeup artists make from corn syrup, chocolate syrup and food coloring.

My breathing sharpened and I growled out.

“J2. Are without a doubt. The lowest most vile Americans to EVER WALK THE PLANET!!!” This was my favorite shirt and now the boys ruined it.  Plus do you know how long it takes to get fake blood out of your hair? Believe me it’s not pretty. Hours upon hours of just brushing through one section of hair.

Soon enough the entire cast came out laughing and clapping but what was shocking was that the Lucifer cast also came out smiling and clapping along.

“We got you good kid!” Misha laughed.

“You—you all were……”

“About time we finally dethroned the Prank Queen. You’ve been stealing our thunder for too long kid.” Jensen said.

“And thanks to your dad and the rest of the Lucifer cast, they gave us the time to set all this up.” Jared said as he held his phone up probably recording the whole thing.  I turned to my dad and hissed.

“Et tu Papa?”

“Sorry darling. They were convincing. Plus you’ve been going a little overboard with the pranks. You even placed a dead fish in my car.” Dad said.

“Or itching powder in my underwear drawer last year during season 3.” DW added.

“And hacking my Instagram professing love for the DCEU when you know I’m a Marvel girl.” Aimee said.

“And of course you can’t forget your recent little prank. The electric cushions.” Jared said.

“So we all came together and finally got you back.” Alex said smugly.

“How’s it feel now? You just got Carrie’d!” Lauren proclaimed.

“You all are so lucky I’m not a real witch or a telepath. Cause otherwise you’d all be screwed right now!” I spat out the fake blood that was starting to seep into my mouth.  “But I’ll admit. Only I could come up with something like this. I’m impressed. Especially since it was a crossover team effort.”

Both castmates from each show came around me and that’s when all the selfies and self-promotion of dethroning the “Prank Queen” has officially happened.  Of course I couldn’t help but chase after J2 as well as my dad so that I could smear the blood on them as payback for what they did to me.

Yep the life of an actress on Supernatural who happens to be the daughter of the current ‘hot’ Lucifer Morningstar, but I wouldn’t change it for the world.  So while the entire cast and my family got their victory out of the way, I began plotting my next ultimate prank.

[jamielea81]

Conversations

Chapter 8

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: A couple of curse words, fluff, overthinking, Scott being a little shit.

Word Count: 3,210

A/N: I know nothing about the lives of the Evans family and mean no harm. This is purely fiction and for fun. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! The tag list is now closed. Each chapter tends to get reblogged from me a few times, so if you’re following me, you can’t miss it.

*Italics are internal thoughts

“It’s like I don’t even know you anymore,” Scott whined.

“You’re being dramatic.”

Scott was facetiming you and being his normal grumpy self. If you didn’t love him so much, you would have disconnected the call ten minutes prior.

“I thought we had no secrets,” he plainly said.

“We never agreed to that. I’m pretty sure there are a million things I don’t know about you,” you threw back at him, one eyebrow raised.

He scoffs and shakes his head with a little bit of a smile coming through.

I knew he’d break.

**

Chris had gone back to Massachusetts two days prior and you still hadn’t stopped smiling.  

After sharing a few more sweet kisses that night, the two of you watched the sunrise before making the short walk back to your house. It was the first time you had experienced both the sunset and sunrise with someone all in the same day. Sleep deprivation never felt so good.

You dropped Chris off an hour later. He wanted you to come inside to say goodbye to his mom, but with half your makeup worn off and the giddy look on your face, it wasn’t the impression you wanted to give. Especially since the first one didn’t play out so well.

With the two of you parked like teenagers outside his rented home, you struggled with what to say.

“Thanks for having me over,” Chris offered with a lazy smile.

“Thanks for coming over and for lunch.”

You turned in your seat to face him head on. Chris grabbed your hand intertwining your fingers.

“I hate to be a bummer, but I don’t know what I can come back to visit. But I want to see you again. Don’t want to leave today and have you thinkin’ this is it,” he said.

You nodded your head numbly, trying to keep the last eighteen or so hours in your mind solely. No use in being sad right now. Leaning forward, you captured his lips once more. The two of you pulling away with sleepy smiles.

“Call me when you get home,” you said.

Chris lifted your linked hands, bringing them to his lips, and kissing yours softly.

“Of course,” he said.

**

“Fine…You still should have told me,” Scott insisted.

You rubbed your right eye with the palm of your hand, momentarily freaking out before you realized you didn’t have any makeup on.

“I don’t really know what it all means,” you sighed out. “Okay, that’s not completely true.” Scott chuckled at your indecision. “It was nice and I kind of wanted to keep it to myself for a while.” You shrugged a shoulder.

“Well, he can’t stop gushing about you,” Scott replied. That made you perk up.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it was like the first thing he told me when he got home. No mention of Disney, just Sassy,” he said.

“See, I didn’t have to tell you. You guys tell each other everything. Which honestly concerns me.” You gave him a smirk. “But what did he say?!”

Scott laughed, shaking his head at the same time.

“I don’t know…Think I need to start keeping my relationships with the two of you separate.”

Sticking out your bottom lip, you give him the biggest pouty face you could muster causing Scott to chuckle again.

“All I’m going to say is he said you spent the night together and it was wonderful.”

“Wait. Wait. Hold up. That sounds like our night was more than PG13!” you exclaimed.

“Oh my god! I didn’t even think of that!” Scott laughed. “He didn’t mean it that way, I swear. But that’s all you’re getting from me.”

“Fine,” you groaned.

**

A week had passed and the endless smile had finally dissipated. You weren’t upset or anything like that. No. The euphoric state you were in had just…faded. Chris and you spoke or texted over the last week, but reality set in that the night you shared would probably be no more than a night. This of course was not stated with actual words between the two of you. Saying it out loud seemed much too scary. But since it wasn’t spoken, you could only assume that Chris had come to the same conclusion. Really, what were the two of you? The calls and texts were much the same as they had always been. Teasing each other, a good amount of flirting, small talk about your days, and maybe a little Scott talk. It was really just getting your mind to wrap around the idea that Chris was your friend that you happened to have kissed. A few times. Maybe that was good enough.

**

Cirque du Soleli was premiering a new show called Drawn to Life, after being closed for some time in Disney Springs, the shopping and entertainment district at Walt Disney World resort. Jana had agreed to be your date, but since she was coming from work, she was running a bit behind. You busied yourself with a drink on the outdoor patio at House of Blues, letting the dark rum and mix of juices take your mind off the busy week. Grabbing your phone out of your purse, you decided to give Chris a call since Jana wouldn’t be arriving for at least another ten minutes.

“Well, hello there sweetheart. What are you up to?” His soothing voice answered.

“Hey there yourself. I’m just drinking alone. At a bar. Woe is me,” you replied.

“I don’t like the sound of that. Tough week?” Chris asked.

“Wasn’t too bad. Just waiting on Jana who’s running late.”

“Oh, you two. Do I need to warn the cops that you’re out together?” he teased.

“Well, we’re on Disney property, so we can’t get into too much trouble. Watchin’ the new Cirque show that’s opening tonight for the paper. They actually gave me a plus one and I couldn’t think of a better date,” you bated him.

“Really Sassy? Aiming low I see?”

“I haven’t a clue at what you’re implying Mr. Evans.”

“Mmhm, I’m sure. She gonna kiss you goodnight when the evening is over?” he asked.

“Well, she’s married. So…”

Chris chuckled at that. “So, what you’re sayin’ is she doesn’t know about that little spot right below your ear that gets you all hot and bothered?”

This man will be the death of you some day. It took a moment for you to compose yourself. Clearing your throat quickly and blowing out a breath.

“No, no. Sh-she doesn’t know that. But you barely know that, so dial it down buddy,” you giggled.

“Ah-huh. Alright, sweetheart. I’ll try to rein it in.” There was a beat of silence on both ends, the only sound was each other’s breath.  “God, I miss you,” he softly spoke.

With your heart hammering in your ears, you licked your lips. “I miss you too.”

You felt a tap on your shoulder, turning your head you saw Jana who gave you a silent wave.

“Um, babe, Jana’s here now,” you said, struggling to get your voice.

“Alright. Have a good night and don’t get into any trouble,” he warned.

“I promise nothing. Talk to you tomorrow?” Why you asked it as a question, you weren’t sure.

“Always. Goodnight sweetheart.”

“Goodnight,” you replied, hitting the end call button.

Dropping your phone into your purse, you turned back to Jana, gesturing for her to take a seat.

“Who was that?”

“Chris.”

You’re sure she can see the heat in your face, but you don’t care at the moment. He said he missed you. You’re glad you aren’t the only one.

“How are you holding up?” Jana asked.

Lifting your glass to your lips, you took a sip of the mostly watered-down rum. “I’m doing good. Chris is still my friend and that’s all I can really ask for,” you said, shrugging your shoulders.

Jana gave you a pointed look, setting her bag on the tabletop, resting her arms on either side of it. “Really?” she asked.

“Of course, not!” you practically shouted. Had it been anyone else, they would have flinched at your sudden loss of composure. Taking a calming breath, you composed yourself once more. “We did just have a nice conversation, so I’m feeling better. I’m fine.”

“Yep. Sure, seems like it.” She stood up, pushing the chair back in. “Let’s go. Time to join the circus.”

You knew she probably would have given you a lecture about going with the flow and learning to discuss your feelings if you had time before the show started. And if you were an adult about the situation, you would listen to her.

**

Whenever your phone rang during the middle of the day from one of the Evans boys, you knew something was up. Seeing Chris’ name on your screen surprised you a bit. He had been filming the last couple of weeks for another Apple TV+ series, so it was a lot more texting with a few phone calls sprinkled in. Usually just as you were falling asleep.

“I’m sorry, who’s this?” you answered.

You hear a deep chuckle on the other end of the line. “Funny. Did you delete my contact or something?” Chris asked.

“Not this week. Not yet anyway,” you teased.

The newsroom was packed this afternoon being that it was Friday and mostly everyone was required to make an appearance. You pushed away from your desk, getting to your feet to find an empty conference room.

“Not this week? What did I do last week?” He sounds tired. You know he loves to work, but you really wish he’d take a little more time for himself.

You found an open room, quickly shutting the door, plopping your butt in a chair at the large round table. “Hmm. If you don’t know, that makes a bigger case for me to delete you as soon as we hang up.” The chairs in the conference rooms were always much nicer than the ones on the floor.

Wonder if I could swap mine for one of these without anyone noticing?

“Maybe I could change your mind,” Chris offered.

“I’m listening,” you said, tapping your fingernails against the polished wood table.

“Could you take off work for a couple of days? I’m going to be a New York City for a few days, and my schedule isn’t going to be packed. Thought maybe I could convince you to come see me.”

You wouldn’t say it out loud, but you most definitely would make something work. It had only been a month since your weekend together, but that month felt more like a dozen. With his filming schedule, you planned on waiting another couple of months before you would even bring up the idea of seeing him.

“When exactly? I’m sure I could get away, but if it’s a Friday, it will be a little harder to swing it.”

“You don’t think I know that Sassy? Fridays you have meetings and you can’t be late,” he said, a smirk in his voice.

“Kudos to you, Mr. Evans.”

“I’m gettin’ in Monday night, late.”

“This Monday?”

Crap. Maybe not.

“Sweetheart, I’m not calling you last minute. The week after.”

Relaxing a bit when you realized you’d have a little over a week to prepare rather than just a couple of days. You’d have to look up flights and hotels to see what you could find. Figure out what part of New York he’d be in. Knowing you probably wouldn’t be able to afford where ever he was staying, you wanted to at least be close.

“I can make that work. Maybe come in Tuesday morning and leave Thursday night?”

“Whatever you can make happen Y/N, I’ll take.”

You smiled at his words. “I’ll look at some flights and hotels. Where are you staying?”

“No, no, no, sweetheart. I’m flying you out here. My treat,” he said.

“Chris, no. I can’t have you do that. That’s too big of a gift,” you reasoned.

The two of you were friends, maybe something a bit more, but mostly just friends. It was much too much for him to paying for trips.

“Let me do this. I want to see you and it’s really not that big of a deal.”

You shook your head and then rolled your eyes at yourself remembering he couldn’t see you.

“Let me at least pay for the flight, Chris.”

“You’re frustrating, you know that?” he groaned.

“I’ve been told that,” you chuckled.

“If you’d feel more comfortable, I can get you your own room. But if I’m being honest, I’d like you to stay with me,” he said softly.

Holy shit.

“Ye-yeah. Yeah. I’d like that. To stay with you I mean.”

Chris chuckled at your response. “One room it is. Let me know you flight info and I’ll arrange a car to pick you up.”

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll do that.” You had a dopey smile on your face, but you couldn’t help it.

“Talk to you soon, sweetheart.”

“Bye babe,” you replied.

If you weren’t at work, you’d pretty much be freaking out. The freak out would need to wait.

**

Your flight was booked for seven in the morning on Tuesday, flying home at four in the afternoon on Thursday. Not a lot of time, but at least it was two full days. Two full nights as well. That was a whole other thing. You were spending two nights with Chris. Presumably in one bed. Unless he booked a room with more than one bed. Who were you kidding? He probably doesn’t even book his own rooms. He was there for work, so the room probably only had one bed.

You quickly fired off a text to Jana.

Y/N: Am I just a booty call?

You knew Chris didn’t think of you that way. He was your friend. You were close friends with his brother. But being whisked away to New York for a couple of nights sure made you feel a little bit like one. And you agreed to sleeping in the same room.

Jana: In general, or??

Bitch.

Your friends were all trouble and as soon as you get back from New York, you were going to look for new ones.

Y/N: Thanks, I’m about to call your husband instead.

Jana: He told me to type that!

Y/N: 🥺

Jana: You are not a booty call. Chris lives a different lifestyle from most people. If the two of you want to spend time together, flying to different cities is probably how it’s going to go.

She was right. You knew she was. But your dumb brain didn’t want to accept it.

**

Nine at night was entirely too early to go to bed. Usually you weren’t even in your room that early, but it was Monday and you were trying to fall asleep at an earlier hour since your alarm was set for three in the morning. Why you picked a seven AM flight was beyond you.

Y/N: I’m going to bed early. Talk to you tomorrow.

You waited a few minutes for Scott to text you back. He was in L.A. if you were remembering correctly, so it was a lot earlier than normal.

Instead of texting back, he was calling.

“Hello, Scott,” you answered.

“Hi Sassy. I’m trying to have a nice dinner with Zach and you’re interrupting what was once a beautiful evening.”

Yet I’m the sassy one?

“I’m pretty sure by you calling me, you’re interrupting dinner with Zach. Tell him hello from me by the way,” you replied.

“I hate when you’re right,” he chuckled.

“Just stating facts, sweetie. You didn’t have to call, just wanted to let you know I was turning in early.”

“Is your flight early?” he asked.

“Yeah, seven. Not sure what I was thinkin’ there.”

“Thinkin’ about gettin’ some,” he murmured.

“Scott! Dude! What the fuck?”

Rather than respond he just continued to laugh on the other end of the line.

“I’m just saying. Don’t kill the messenger here,” he continued to chuckle.

“What happened to keeping yourself separate from Chris and my relationship?”

“Uhh, yeah. You’re right. My lips are sealed,” Scott replied.

 “Unanswered prayers!”

“Watch yourself, Sassy,” he said sternly. “But have a safe flight. Give Chris a hug and kiss for me.” It was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde all of a sudden. So serious one second and nice and sweet the second. Scott Evans was a man of mystery.

“Yeah, thanks, Grumpy. Goodnight.”

“Bye, love.”

**

One of the positives about taking an early flight was that security was a lot easier to get through so early in the morning. You had said for years you were going to get Pre-Check but you always just put it off. Going through a short security check was nice.

Picking up a coffee and a bagel, you made your way to the gate. Boarding wasn’t for another hour, but that gave you time to finish your food, use the restroom, and over think the trip.

Sigh.

No amount of crying babies and couples arguing about which bag had the phone charger could distract you from knowing you’d be seeing Chris in a matter of hours. Do you greet him with a hug, high five, or a kiss? I mean, really, it could be anything.

Sigh.

Y/N: Let’s say I wanted something more to happen on this getaway. I’m not saying that’s what I want. Hypothetically speaking.

You chewed on your lip waiting for Jana’s reply. You should have bought a pack of gum. Your lips would be raw before you even touched down in JFK.

Jana: Hypothetically you want to bang him

Y/N: Where is that coming from? I never said that.

Jana: It might be time you spoke to a professional.

She probably isn’t wrong.

Y/N: Let’s say the answer is yes. Too soon?

Jana: That’s entirely up to you. If that’s what you both want.

Y/N: It’s me. I have no idea what I want. I wish there was some magical way to know what the other person is thinking.

Jana: Doesn’t work that way babe

Y/N: Yeah

Brooks: Just bang him!

Jana really needed to stop telling Brooks everything.

You quickly replied to Brooks’ message.

Y/N: Not a word to Scott.

Now that two of them talked, who knows how quickly this conversation would get back to Chris.

Brooks: My lips are sealed.

Damnit! That’s what Scott said last night.

**

Because you bought your seat a week out, you ended up buying an upgraded seat in Delta Comfort which essentially gave you a few more inches of leg room and a seat just past the first-class section. The bigger benefit for you was being boarded sooner. Being able to skip most of the standing around the gate like watching a street act was nothing more than a blessing for your nerves.

Settled into your seat, you decided to send Chris a text before powering down your phone.

Y/N: Hey there, Delilah What's it like in New York city? I'm a thousand miles away But, girl, tonight you look so pretty Yes, you do

Chris: Cute. Now get your ass here so I can kiss you.

Maybe you knew what you wanted.

Chapter 9

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