#i dunno why but i love to make my girls like really ruthless

[anniflamma]

Trigger warning: topic about SA, aka Im gonna rant about the suitors plan

----

So, I’m going to talk about something I actually dislike ALOT in Epic: The Musical. The whole subplot about the suitors wanting to gangrape Penelope. The more I think about it, the more I realize how unnecessary this addition to the story is.

If you removed it, it wouldn’t change the outcomes of the story at all. Odysseus would still kill them. Nothing has ever stopped him before— neither the infant, Polites’ ideology, nor the fact that he willingly led his remaining crew to certain death while always ensuring his own safety above theirs. But somehow, a group of 20-year-olds is the line he can’t cross????? Like, “Oh no, they’re just rude guests, I can’t kill them!🙁” It doesn’t make sense. Odysseus would kill them either way, they don’t need to be wannabe gangrapists to motivate him. It’s entirely in character for him to do so without additional justification.

I understand why Jorge added this to the story, is to raise the stakes. Odysseus has just defeated the personification of ruthlessness itself (Poseidon) by using a fucking jetpack and punching the god really hard. Symbolically, Odysseus has taken the title of “ruthlessness” for himself. So, what can the next threat be that’s stronger and more menacing than Poseidon? Ah yes.... it's the gangrapists /s

For me, it would be more thematically fitting with Odysseus’ ruthless nature to not have a justifiable "motivation" to kill the suitors. Imagine instead if they were portrayed as having the same youthful energy as Telemachus. Like a bunch of rude young men! And then the story could show an adult man brutally murdering a group of young people with no mercy. Then, the song ends with Odysseus seeing Penelope’s horrified face as she looks around the throne room splattered with the blood and gore of her guests. At that moment, Odysseus realizes he’s messed up, putting his biggest fear, which is Penelope rejecting him (something he expresses in Keep Your Friends Close) at risk of becoming a reality. And then, the musical end with Odysseus begging Penelope to accept him despite what he has become. Like what I said, the outcome will still end up in this moment despite with or no sexual violence. I mean, the suitors wanting to kill Telemachus is enough as a motivation. Ody don't really need that much.

I dunno , I think this would hit harder, rather than "Ahh you saved me from the rapist my husband! Thank you!~😍 " "All for you baby girl~~ 😘"

The gangrape plotline only exists to make Odysseus look good for the audience, making him into the good hero who saves the damsel with zero screentime, and reassures that the suitors are antagonists. But it does also puts Penelope in a position where she has to take Odysseus back, or else she risks being seen as “ungrateful” by the audience. I promise you, if Penelope were to reject Odysseus after he saved her from the suitors, most of the fanbase would despise her for it. Of course, that won’t happen, Penelope will accept Odysseus no matter what he does, cuz that is what her characterization is. She is Odysseus' happy ending, if she rejects him then the story wont have a happy ending.

The sexual violence just isn’t necessary. Especially when Jorge went out of his way to make the relationship between Odysseus and Calypso as vague as possible. There’s no explicit statement in the musical that Calypso assaulted Odysseus, and I’m Not Sorry For Loving You is even depicted in a sympathetic light. That was a deliberate choice. So, why remove and downplay the sexual assault from the original story with Calypso, only to add a sexual assault subplot towards Penelope that wasn’t in the original?

It’s unnecessary. Just let Odysseus commit cruel and ruthless deeds without a "good justification" or feeling bad about it afterward for once.

However, the last saga isnt out yet, so there is a possibility that Jorge have rewritten it. I do hope that he removes it, but at this moment, it looks like it will be in there. Welp, maybe he pulls the rug under my feet with a twist or some sort. We can only wait and see!

[kissitbttr]

“toji, baby? can you do alena’s hair please?” you call out from the kitchen, fixing simple breakfast for your little family,

he nods at you, giving a short kiss on your cheek as a confirmation before heading towards his little girl’s play pen. his eyes brighten when alena is busying herself with her my little pony plushies, adorable messy hair comes into view making him chuckle,

“hey ya sweetheart, having fun?” toji walks around to face his pretty baby, the sound of her dad’s voice causing her to look up. he swears the moment her big round eyes stare at him, he’s ready to kill anyone who dares to try take his daughter away,

with a toothy smile, she babbles away while clapping her chubby hands. feeling excited to see her dad there, seemingly cannot wait to be picked up by him,

“aren’t you the prettiest girl i have ever seen, hm? aside from mama of course. dunno what she sees in me. she’s a ten and i’m not. i’m happy she chose me, though. such a lucky bastard” toji makes sure to whisper the last word to himself because he doesn’t want his daughter to hear him cuss.

his hands go under her armpits before lifting her up, little legs kicking away in excitement making toji chuckles. “time to do my little alena’s hair!”

he brings her to the baby chair near the dining room, where you can see it too. your eyes look over your shoulder and smile at the sight of him setting your baby down,

“got anything to work on today?”

toji shakes his head, rolling the sleeves of his sweater up to the elbows. “nah. took a day off. i’m letting shiu handling it today”

one of your eyebrows quirks up, turning out to plate the cut up fruits and eggs on the table. “oh yeah? what if there’s something really important come up that you need to—“

“i need my girls more” he cuts you off with a soft voice and a grin, his eyes look up to you and see you mirroring his smile but it’s much more prettier to him. “plus, i’m sure they can handle not having their ceo for today. and tomorrow. maybe”

his fingers move to thread lightly under the strands of alena’s hair as she toys with a little action figure toji had gifted her few days prior. it keeps herself busied while he’s doing her hair,

“how about you, baby? got any meetings or anything?”

you shrug, grabbing a few utensils. “just one with the team to discuss the launch of our newest design. should be quick, though. hopefully. i need to speed up the process and everything because it seems that everyone is fuc—freaking slow.”

he chuckles, tying a band around alena’s mini bun. “i’m sure you can handle it, darling. you’re ruthless like that. one of the reasons why i fell on love with you, is it?”

“would you still, if i had to kill them?”

“absolutely” he answers without hesitation making you laugh,

“god, we are bad parents”

“don’t know what you’re talking about. we’re pretty good at what we’re doing” toji smiles at his baby, who suddenly chucks the toy towards the table. “damn, our baby got strength”

“got that from you, i think” you lean towards the table and snatch a cut up strawberry before plucking it into your mouth,

“nope. that’s from you” he corrects, softly patting alena’s hair that are sticking out. “remember when we had an argument and you almost hit me with—“

“we do not talk about that” you shake your head, not wanting to remember,

“was pretty sexy to me” he replies casually. “i was so turned on by that”

both of you share a laugh, causing alena to look up at both of you at the sound of it.

“so—do i get to see my pretty wife’s latest design or—“ toji trails off, planting a kiss on alena’s chubby cheek before grabbing a handful of berries for himself,

you tilt your head to the side, a small smirk tugs upon your lips and toji immediately catches what that look meant for,

“i see trouble” he eyes you for a second, chewing on the juicy fruit. “is it sexy? god, if it was you can’t keep teasing me, baby. i’d die”

“so dramatic, you won’t die”

“i will for you though” and he means it. “is it dresses? leather involved perhaps?”

shaking your head, you reply “lingeries, babe. night gowns, garters, panties. all that”

and toji suddenly stops moving. breathing even. his eyes widening at the mention of lingeries,

“oh fuck. you are killing me.”

“toji! language!”

but alena just laughs at her silly banter between her parents

[daenerysstormreborn]

Actually I’m making a separate post about this. Before you read, please understand that when I use the words “feminine” and “femininity” I am exclusively talking about the patriarchal stereotypes, aesthetics, gender roles, and other expectations ascribed to the female sex in a given culture. I do not mean “the intrinsic aspect of being female/a girl/a woman/however you wanna phrase it.” The concept of femininity is a construct. It’s a set of traits and roles and expectations and aesthetics that anyone can have. So when I say that some female characters are more or less feminine, I am not commenting on identity, I am commenting on presence or absence of traits ascribed to girls and women and conformity to sexist expectations. I am making this distinction because in the past it has been assumed that when I said that a girl was less feminine, I was saying she was less of a girl, which isn’t at all what I was saying. Anyway.

I have a knee-jerk reaction to the idea that the only reason Arya didn’t like “ladylike” activities is that she had bad experiences with them with Sansa, the septa, and her mother. Like the one exception to this is that I love the idea that she’d be good at embroidery if she was able to use her left hand. But otherwise I think it risks treading into gender essentialism. Like “the only reason a girl wouldn’t like and be good at “feminine” things is if she had bad experiences.” I know that’s not what most people mean to imply but I dunno I just think it would be really boring if it was like oh turns out Arya loved dresses all along like it gives Allison getting a makeover in Breakfast Club.

Like oh the girl who was insecure about not quite conforming? Well turns out that the answer to her insecurity is to conform! She just needed people to be nicer to her so she could become a feminine girl just like everyone else! No. There’s no power in that. The answer should be that social acceptance allows her to embrace who she is and have confidence in that! I want Arya to wear pants that allow her to run and play with children and a long cloak she’s embroidered with wildflowers. I feel like people generally understand that it’s sexist to have the resolution to the “I’m insecure because I’m not as feminine as other girls and have been mistreated for it” be “now that people have been kind to me I have become as feminine as other girls.” Like Chie in Persona 3. 

It undermines the criticism of the people who were doing said mistreatment. Like “You were right to be insecure! The answer is to change yourself! People bullying you for being different? Never fear! If you simply experience true kindness and acceptance, you can stop being different! No more insecurity because you can be just like everyone wants you to be and society itself doesn’t have to change!” There’s this dissonance in some fans where they can recognize that the way Arya was judged was wrong, but they still want Arya to end up being traditionally “ladylike.” And for me it’s just like. Why. That’s so boring. I don’t hate it as much as Arya growing up to be a ruthless killer but it seems like a betrayal of themes. My ideal end for Arya is that she’s home, she’s loved, she gets to be who she is. She has a family. She’s beloved by all the children in the Winterfell, not just her own. She teaches them about the wildlife and gives water dancing lessons to girls AND boys who want to learn. She braids her hair against her head to keep it out of the way and decorates the braids with flowers. It’s a very “happily ever after” sort of ending of course and not exactly what I think WILL happen (I do not have any idea what her endgame will be, to be clear, I’m just clarifying that I’m not theorizing I’m just imagining the best happiest ending for her I can think of that fits her character).

I just think that Arya doesn’t need to actually like dresses and be good at all the “feminine” activities and hobbies in order for her to be a beloved Lady, and it feels like that’s the undercurrent to the notion that Arya only dislikes traditionally “ladylike” pursuits as a result of trauma

[chiarrara]

Kagurabachi Chapter 3

first panel and I'm already obsessed with her. I love her vibe, I love her character design (I love her hair). She definitely falls into some 'girl in a shonen' trope but I love a cool girl, so I'm rolling with it.

This manga is reminding me so much of JJK right now and I'm not sure why. I think it has something to do with the art style--the high contrast deep blacks, the smaller panels with thick almost scribbly lines--and probably the tone too. Dunno.

I love how many sides of Chihiro we're seeing right away. He's so soft and considerate here in contrast to his cold, emotionless demeanor before, and in contrast to his dangerous looks and how ruthless we've seen him be before.

It's very easy to make the connection in these panels that he's compassionate towards Char because he's relating to what she's going through. It doesn't have to be said explicitly, the structure of the storytelling leads you to that conclusion pretty easily. I like that kind of subtle storytelling.

After one chapter with her, I absolutely adore Char. I think it's because she talks so much like a real kid. Just saying random things as they pop into her head, irrespective of proper conversational structure. She's cagey the way a young kid is about things they're scared to talk about. She's transparent but inscrutable. She's like, the most authentic child I've seen in fiction in a long time.

I love her little "I thought this soba was to seal the deal!" Like she just made an assumption to fill in the gaps of the adult world around her that she can't fully understand, but didn't bother to tell anyone she came to that conclusion. That and, "If someone were to ask me if it was yummy, I would say...'yes!'" on the page before. She's just talking out loud to herself just like grade school age kids do. It's so charming!

My favorite thing, is that Kagurabachi is just so much fun to look at. The panelling is so dynamic (that also probably reminds me of JJK), and it pulls your eye so effortlessly across the page. It creates movement and pace with your eye so the art doesn't feel static. And the art is so beautiful. There are so many two-page and one-and-a-half page spreads. It really makes me want to read it in print instead of on my phone to get the full experience. It's so much fun to read. I could stare at these two pages for hours.

And bonus: The mangaka knows how to draw black people! Very exciting.

[pararennial-archived]

COMMON MISCONCEPTIONS

Hm... I mean... there are so many misconceptions that border on the intersectionality of Roxy being a woman of colour, asexual, and other aspects of her personality and character. To start, women often get typecasted as the caretaker, the love interest, the sexual conquest, or get assigned gross and shitty complexes because people don't like to think that there are more dimensions to women other than being good/bad, pure/corrupted, messy/pristine, etc.

Again, these complexes are what makes me resent writing a female character, not gonna lie! People see that Roxy, fundamentally, is a good person. She has upstanding morals, integrity, and she fights the good fight. And people have it in their heads that she is an "uwu sunshine pure vanilla bean baby" ( and I will say her being ace doesn't help because people tend to assign that pure, virginal presumption to asexuality, which is incredibly ignorant! ) but really, she is kind and sweet but it doesn't mean she doesn't have a spine. The girl can have a bit of a mean streak at times!

On the other hand, when Roxy exhibits her more competent and ruthless side, people are all like "OH YES STEP ON ME KILLER QUEEN, YES YOU COLD AND BLOODBATHED GODDESS." That also bothers me because it also doesn't capture the full dimension of Roxy being a fully realized character who is multifaceted and cannot be pigeonholed. She won't always be strong, decisive, or cold, and she won't always be soft, warm, or affable. To presume how she would act or behave is simply... a grave mistake.

AN IMPORTANT HEADCANON

In terms of the meta, Roxy is not your typical hero. Yes she fights the good fight but does so in very complicated ways that allow her to surf within that grey area. Nothing is ever black and white in her world. And thus, she is more of a culture hero ⏤ somebody who can change / recreate the world. As a categorized Good character, she often wildly swings between Lawful, Neutral, and Chaotic depending on whatever methods or approaches suit the situation. She abides by and breaks rules, she creates and destroys, she cleans and makes messes, etc. All in all, it's to ensure that balance is maintained and restored, and she doesn't even know how vital her role is.

A USELESS HEADCANON

One of the things that will bear no meaning or significance in plots, threads, etc. is that she likes putting gummy bears with her ice cream. I dunno why, it just makes him harder to chew but Roxy likes that??? Weirdo...

POTENTIAL TRIGGERS

I mean in terms of triggers, there might be written literal or metaphorical gore as I am noticing that viscera tends to make its way into my writing. Struggles with mental health is also present in a way in which trauma is dealt personally and how intergenerational trauma is a huge proponent in Roxy's story. Of course in spite of all the supernatural BS she has to deal with, she is still very much a person dealing with things the best she can. Some of these fantastical aspects sometimes could bleed very well into relatability in which some take comfort in or it can be too much. I don't go too heavy with triggers in my writing, but that being said, I could still very well write some trigger-heavy things without knowing because everybody has their own lived experiences and everybody's traumas manifest in different ways.

SOMETHING YOU ENJOY ABOUT (WRITING) THEM

I think it's the growth of Roxy's character, I've rped her since 2013 seeing her actually grow from a teenager to an adult. It's a journey along with that, so was writing and finding my own voice and style as an author.

Furthermore, I actually like writing a character who has multifaceted and very flexible because it keeps her dynamic. At this rate, she's become more than what I had her set out to be and it's a blast to see where she goes!

SOMETHING YOU WANT OTHERS TO KNOW BEFORE WRITING WITH THEM

fuck around and find out

tagged: @velvetineblue tagging: whoever wants to go off on what they love about writing their muse

[irascible-iridescent]

If you’re afraid to lose, just don’t come to play, boy~

[jojo0303]

Some things to expect for Gilbert's route in no particular order and for no particular reason.

Eyepatch=Heterochromia=Yandere? Unless he doesn't have heterochromia and they consider Keith's "eye color change" between softKeith and darkKeith to be the yandere aspect of this game and Gilberts eye is normal, he just uses it for the villain baddie aesthetic. Yeah. I could see him do that.

Kidnapping attempts. Lot's of them.

Emotional damage.

CaneBert = GunBert confirmed?

Unconventional uses of a cane…? (take that as you will)

Lots of murder😊

Biting. Lots of biting. And hickeys probably too. Establishing dominance through marking. He's a wannabe vampire. (Is the concept of vampires even a thing in this time?🤔)

Tragic backstory. Hit me hard Cybrid.

Confused Mc. Like is this dude lying or does he hate lies? Does he really like me or just wants to get close to me to f me up (in both ways).

By chapter 15 things are gonna start to get real. Like, I know that this is Gil that we're talking about so shits gonna be real from the first chapter but at 15 it's gonna hit the messed up mark. I expecte this route to be darker than this mans color palette.

Stressed Mc.

Choking scene. Yay or nay. Really depends on the context for some. But it's always gonna be yay for me, cuz I love me some messed up shit.

Sariel complaining about headaches. Do I need to explain why?

Concerned baby boy Rio. Rightfully so, I would say.

Complicated diplomatic stuff.

Going to Obsidian, probably via kidnapping but still. Cybrid you better make those Obsidian backgrounds. I wanna see what's up. I wanna see the room of this Emo/Goth Twilight lover boy.

Going to Obsidian, at the end. And actually staying there.

Yves involvement in something? I dunno, maybe some kinda blackmail stuff like they did in his route but different obviously. I hope my boy gets his time to shine even if just slightly. He's not one of my favs but I think he is very unappreciated and seeing him play a bigger role in Gils route of all them would be awesome.

Tea party with the three new princes. darkKeith, not the soft one cuz he wouldn't be near Gilbert unless it was mandatory. Or maybe he would just to be polite. I dunno.

Many trips to the kitchen to make food cuz he is an hungry boy. Really sticking to the tiger aspect on that one given that a pet tiger needs to eat at least, 6 kilos of meat per day. (Don't quote me on this very quick research I did)

Angry Gilby go brrrrrr

People avoiding Mc like the plague. Mc knowing that it's his fault but not wanting to blame him and Gilbert knowing it's his fault but it's convenient for him cause more time with his girl.

A d*ck measurement contest between Gil and Cheva. Rivalry to the max. Alpha males in action. A whole ass national geographic documentary on these fighting tigers. I wanna see blood.

They usually do one ending with Leon as king and another one with Chev when the route in question involves someone that either refuses to be prince or just can't. Gilbert ain't gonna forgive us in the Cheva ending.

Sexy CG.

It has been mentioned several times that Gilbert hates Mcs type of woman. Why? Is it because they're more difficult to break? Has he had someone like this screw with him? Is this "hate" disguising a "like" and Chev has just been reading him wrong? Because if so then Gilbert is even more mysterious than we thought.

Baby boy just wants to be loved🥺. And he knows that in his position only someone with an unbreakable and strong spirit like Emma would be able to do this, so he is toying and testing her.

Maybe it's just me, but I wanna see him cry. Because Angst. Even tho Emma will be the one that cries.

They've mentioned poison far too many times for me to not think that one of us is going to get poisoned. It would also paralel that one Chev ending.

Trampling. Get those killer boots working king.

Mansplain, Manipulate, Manslaughter 💅

Some crazy stuff with the emperor or whatever I can't remember but Gil says he's not as ruthless as him(the emperor) so aparently he his the big daddy of evilness.

Some Luke involvement? Since they share a background, it would be interesting.

The Bloodstained Day from Gils perspective.

Sexy CG. Please.

Figuring out how he gets undressed with all that stuff on. Sir, is that for protection? A bulletproof vest in the making?

Undressing Gilbert.

G string gloves. I want them to be relevant somehow.

Gil eating Clavis deserts. He likes them. He is crazy.

Murder spree stopped bcs Emma does some hope speech or surprises him in some way.

Is this the route where Mc is gonna have to fight? I want this Mc to be such a baddie. Like she's scared but she still has the backbone to talk to him like she would to Silvio. Hopefully she slowly grows to be less and less scared of him until she reaches that point. But of course there's gonna be some big thing happening that will break her down. Cause angst.

Maybe war? I think it will probably happen but the time that's spent in that could be time spent with Gilbert so maybe not?

We're gonna need a lot of interactions to understand and be simping for this man (the MC will, we players already are), so expect every chapter packed with Gilbert interactions. Especially bcs he is needy af.

Jealousy. Towards Chev. Maybe they'll play it off like in that one event where Mc and Chev are already close so gil has one more reason to steal her away. Remember this act starts in the middle of our time as Belle.

Because of that I feel like a good amount of stuff will happen after she chooses the king. But the bigger ones will come before. They're either going to have a lot of stuff happening in one day that spreads out through multiple chapters or they're gonna do this. Maybe a little bit of both.

They danced in the prologue didn't they? I want that to happen again.

This man is gonna force you to go everywhere and mixing that with your studies as Belle and always having to pull a facade, she's gonna be tired. So maybe a repeat of Gilpillow. Pillowbert? Maybe some cuddles.

Sexy CG. I want it.

Are we going to see Gils guest room? Or maybe they'll just recolor it like they did with Emma's room in Bentoite.

Gilbert scolding Silvio for his lack of manners but he is also kinda gay for him. The man said it himself, gender doesn't matter to me.

Don't know what happened in that event where the g string gloves come off and Gilbert is a stray cat out in the rain, but if there is something that is relevant to the story pls tell me ( and tell me what happened in that event while you're at it👀)

Suprised pikabert. Gilbachu? This sounds coursed when said out loud.

He wears red eyeliner. Will we get to put it on for him?

Feeding Gilbert.

This route better make me cry.

MC and Gil reading together. Imagine him just giving her some random obscure Obsidian book and just staring at her as she gets excited.

You know he is gonna use it to blackmail her but who cares really?

MC librarian in Obsidian.

If MC is the one that convinces Gil or the emperor or whoever, to form ties with rhodolite so that they can benefited from the land than she's gonna be the nations sweetheart. She saved them all so they'll have no problem having her as queen ☺️

Gilbert and kids interactions.

Maybe he has siblings or something.

I just wanna see him do a magic trick for the kids. And they all go wahh!

Thank God he is a man cuz if he was a woman performing a magic trick in the streets in this time, the kids would go wahh for another reason...

Gilbert pulling a sausage out of his clothes. Context is needed for this one but without the context it is also appreciated.

Please dont let him be the ninth lost brother of rhodolite.

Sariel should have given this man (king) a condom if he didn't want so many headaches.

He's gonna be the only child. He's deemed to be alone. It's why he likes kids. They're the little bros and sisters he never had.

A random kid just ask if they're in a relationship and Gilbert says yes. Of course he does.

And the they ask them to kiss.

Ah that's right, pecks on the cheeks. Apparently Gilbert likes to ask for those so...

Give me a sexy CG for god's sake.

And last but not least: Gifbert.

This was way longer than expected.

Feel free to add anything.

[okay-j-hannah]

Out Of Sight

Fantastic Beasts : Prompt

Theseus x Reader

Word Count: 1605

Warnings: Nothing but the shameless flirting of Theseus Scamander 😂

Request: “Could I possibly get a Theseus/reader fic using prompt 3? Preferably where he’s the one who is missing, maybe during a mission gone wrong and she’s talking to Newt? Fluff please. I dunno if my heart could take any angst. Thank you! 💙🌻💙” @the-glasses-are-my-disguise​

Prompt:

3. “He’s missing, not dead.”

A/N: You join Theseus and Newt on an undercover job, always the worrier when it came to Theseus’ safety as he tackled Auror investigations

The party was formal and overwhelming.

Dozens of couples in dresses and suits trailed lazily around the hall, drinks and nibbles being woven between them. The professional orchestra played a background tune, seemingly invisible as the people of power chatted.

(Y/N) stood, slightly uncomfortable in such a uniform of lace and silk and edged her gloved hand around Theseus’ arm. She was never one for these Auror missions, though being a devout partner she left her research desk and followed Theseus into the danger.

“How are you supposed to know who he is?”

Theseus raised a slender glass of champagne to his lips, muttering quietly, “He’ll be surrounded by the most powerful. He’ll be the one seemingly bored by the conversation but demanding their attention when he speaks.”

“I don’t like the look of this,” she whispered back, whipping her eyes about the grand hall, “There are too many people. It would be so easy to get lost.”

“Calm yourself, darling,” Theseus chuckled, “You’ll give away our position.”

(Y/N) immediately lowered her eyes, taking a deep breath. She must behave normally regardless of the panic she felt. Newt was not far behind, quietly observing and partaking of his own drink.

“These magical beast smugglers are not used to the skills of a dark wizard catcher,” Theseus stated rather proudly. “We’ll find them in the end.”

“Just because they’re not dark wizards doesn’t mean they’re not dangerous.”

Theseus covered her hand along his arm, “You have nothing to fear, my dear. This is simply a favor for Newt – I would have brought reinforcements if I thought there was any real danger.”

She looked up to find his eyes gazing down at her lovingly. He gave a small smile and kissed her brow.

“I don’t get out of the office much. Forgive me if I’m a little on edge,” though she was smiling when she said it. She couldn’t help it when he held her close like that, protective under his gentle grasp.

He chuckled low in his throat, “You look simply ravishing in that dress.”

She shook her head ever so slightly, instantly flustered by his shameless flirting. “You’re on the job, Theseus – keep your pants on.”

“You’re no fun,” he muttered, moving his hand to her back, trailing light fingers up her spine, “Can I not adore you while enjoying my champagne?”

She shivered, tickled, “I’m going to need you to think with your upstairs brain; we’re working a case.” Though she knew what he was doing – it was always a tactic of his whenever she was anxious. He wished to calm her down, wished to see her flustered or annoyed rather than panicked and afraid.

And it worked every time – she smiled – the worrisome fretting was replaced with a mingling sense of playfulness. Much more manageable and less likely to give them away.

He grinned as realization was coming to her, “You clever girl.” And he scanned the audience again, drinking the last of his glass and shoving a hand in his pocket.

Newt crept behind (Y/N), slightly slouched and upset by the couples flirting. “I don’t suppose you’ve spotted anything?”

“No, Newton, I’ve been too busy admiring my love in her dress.” This time round, Theseus shamelessly flirt to rouse a shameful blush to Newt’s cheeks.

“Don’t tease,” (Y/N) nudged him.

“Or rather,” Theseus narrowed, thrusting his empty glass into Newt’s free hand, “There might be something there near the stairs.”

(Y/N) craned her neck to see, clearly observing a group of enthusiastic conversationalists. The man within its center had a dull expression on his face, picking at his nails and seeming only mildly interested in what was being said.

“I’ll go have a look,” Theseus said, turning to (Y/N), “Be careful, and don’t let Newt sway you to the dance floor. There’s a reason he sticks to his mating dances.”

(Y/N) frowned, “You’re going alone?”

In response, Theseus took her hand and placed a gentle kiss to her knuckles, “I’ll be back before you know it.” And he pulled away, giving her a comforting smile.

He skillfully weaved himself through the crowd, being sure to place a dashing debonair smile on his face. (Y/N) watched him anxiously, the nerves returning with him out of her presence. Newt noticed, placing his empty champagne glasses on a footman’s tray.

“He’ll be all right. He’s Theseus.”

“That’s the problem,” (Y/N) muttered, struggling to keep her eyes on him in the swarm of people. “He is Theseus and Theseus does what he wants without regard to his own personal safety.”

“You and I definitely live with different Theseus’.”

(Y/N) laughed, hollow, “You lived with the schoolboy, I live with the Auror.”

“Fair enough,” Newt muttered, hiding his fidgeting hands in his coat pockets, “Though, I still don’t believe you have anything to worry about.”

It was enough good faith that she calmed somewhat. Newt and she found themselves growing bored with waiting around and spying Theseus being diplomatic with the suspected smugglers. They trailed the outside of the hall, admiring the sparing artwork and grabbing little sandwiches and toothpicked cheeses when they could. They found themselves at the side bar, grabbing a sip of mild fire whiskey and then stirring olives in old cocktails.

“Look at me scolding Theseus and then drinking on the job.”

Newt gave her a rare smile, “I knew Theseus could handle the task himself, but I think he enjoys seeing you out in public.”

She gave him a raised brow, “Oh?”

“I do believe he likes showing you off.”

That made her smirk, “Sounds like my Theseus.” She knew he would never say such things to her face for fear of making her bashful and regret going out. He always knew when to draw the line in his skillful flirtations.

“Speaking of Theseus,” Newt stated, noticing the crowds beginning to thin as people returned home for the night. “I’ve lost sight of him.”

(Y/N) whipped her head around, a sudden lead weight in her stomach. She looked to where she saw him last and saw nothing. This led her eyes to flicker around the rest of the hall, more frantic in her search. Yet she still could not see him.

She moved away from the bar, moving slowly but her eyes whirring about the space. The longer she looked the faster her breath seemed to leave her. It was harder to focus, her mind only jumping to the worst conclusions as to why she couldn’t see him anymore. All notions that he’d be fine were out the window.

There were goosebumps on her arms as she moved farther into the thinning crowds. She was beginning to frantically search, bumping into people and asking to see peoples faces. She stumbled as she went undeterred by the stares of offense.

Newt tried to catch her while spying about. He did not feel the same sense of panic, perhaps because he had known Theseus longer. When he managed to grab her arm, he said, “There’s no need to go shouting about.”

She hadn’t even realized she’d started saying Theseus’ name aloud, “I don’t see him. I don’t know where he is.” There was a burning on the backs of her eyes, “These smugglers were dangerous, yes?”

Newt was taken aback by the look on her face, “Only dangerous to the magical beasts they pawn – I don’t think they’d be so ruthless to wizards.”

She took another shaky breath, “I still don’t see him. Where would he go? Why wouldn’t he tell us? What if something happened to him?”

“(Y/N), he’s missing, not dead.” Newt placed his hands on her shoulders, “You need to calm yourself. No good is going to come from your panic. “

He was right. She finally took a deep breath and nodded, “I just get so worried about him. He’s always out here risking his neck and I couldn’t stand not seeing him ever again. Sometimes when he leaves out the door I wonder if he’ll come home – and it terrifies me.”

“I wish I didn’t make you feel that way.” His voice was gentle and sweet. And when she turned to face him, he felt his own throat bob slightly, “Darling, you worry too much.”

“Theseus,” she whispered, falling directly into his arms, “You scared me half to death.”

He wrapped himself around her, rubbing her chilled back, “I told you I’d be back. I always come back.”

“I couldn’t see you – you disappeared.” That burning pricking her eyes turned them glassy as she hugged him close. “I assumed the worst.”

Theseus sighed, pulling back and cupping her face, “You may be a clever girl, but you go positively rampant as soon as I’m out of your eyeline. Do you really doubt my capabilities as an Auror?”

She pouted, lowering her eyes, “No, of course not. It’s those you fight that I don’t trust. One of these days they’ll pull a fast one on you.”

He gave her a look of longing before kissing her forehead, “I’m all right and you don’t need to worry – that’s what matters.” His fingers were warm and loving where they traced her arms, pulling her into another hug.

“I couldn’t possibly let anything happen to myself because who would be there to calm you?”

(Y/N) sighed, comfort flowing through her.

In return, Theseus trailed a hand up her back to hold her head against his chest, “I’m sorry I frightened you.”

“I’m sorry I panicked.”

Newt grumbled, “I’m sorry, but what about the smugglers?”

Theseus’ chest rumbled with laughter; it bounced against (Y/N)’s cheek, “I see you didn’t share the same worry, Newton.”

~~~

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[blackhakumen]

Mini Fanfic #788: After a Cliff Falling Experience (SSBU X Persona 5)

3:40 p.m. at Smash Mansion's Living Room.........

It was a relaxing, peaceful day at the mansion for the Phantom Thieves (Shiho and Lavenza included) as they watch some TV together. That is until......

'Door Open'

Pit: (Weakly Made his Way to the Living Room While Being Covered in Ashes) I'm.....hoooooome......(Fells Down on the Floor in Exhaustion)

'THUD'

Phantom Thieves: (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock Once They've Seen Pit Lay on the Ground) PIT!?

Makoto: Oh my god! (Immediately Makes her Way to Pit Along with the Others) Are you okay!? (Starts Helping Pit Back Up With Ren's Assistance)

Pit: ('Groans a Bit in Pain') Yeah......I think so....

Futuba: Dude, what happened to you?

Ann: Yeah. And why are you covered in ashes?

Lavenza: Were you hit by a nearby fire perhaps?

Pit: Not exactly.....I was uhh....(Starts Rubbing the Back of his Head Back and Forth While Chuckling a bit Awkwardly) Kind of, sort of got thrown off a cliff......

Phantom Thieves: You WHAT!!?

Yusuke: Who on Earth would do such a thing!?

Pit: I dunno....Some guy name Kazuya or some-

Ryuji: Waitwaitwait! You said Kazuya?

Shiho: As in THE KAZUYA MISHIMA!?

Pit: Uh....I think that's what his me is, yeah.

Ryuji: (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock as He's Almost Speechless) Holy fucking shit.......

Shiho: (Covers her Mouth in Complete Shock) Oh my god.....

Ann: (Turns Ryuji and Shiho in a Not of Confusion) You guys know him or something?

Ryuji: KNOW HIM!? That's the guy from Tekken!?

Shiho: He's the guy with literal devil powers!!!

Lavenza: (Eyes Widened in Genuine Surprise) Oh my.....

Ren: Ah yeah.....Tekken. (Turns to Ryuji) I remember you telling me about it that time school. (Turns to Pit) What makes you wanna go after that guy?

Pit: Well, for starters, we really haven't heard from Ganondorf all day yesterday. So Kirby and I decided to look for him all night. Once we eventually arrived at this....Volcanic Mountain looking place, the first thing we saw was that Kazuya guy carrying Ganondorf to a cliff and throwing off there.

Ryuji: (Eyes Widened in Complete Shock) FOR REAL!?

Haru: (Couldn't Believe What She's Hearing) I-I don't understand! Why would he do such a thing!?

Pit: I'm not entirely sure myself, but he did say something about wanting to fight worthy opponents or whatever.

Yusuke: So he's like Ryu then?

Ryuji: Yes......

Shiho: ......And no..... He's way more cold and ruthless than Ryu is in his Messatsu Form.

Ryuji: And that's all because the whole Mishima Family in general was messed up from the start.....

Ann: (Turns to Ryuji and Shiho) How do you two know all of this?

Ryuji: Shiho and I used to play a lot Tekken growing up.

Shiho: (Smiles Softly at her Girlfriend) You should play it with us sometime, Ann. It's really fun.

Ann: (Shrugs While Smiling at her Girlfriend) Sure. I'm down.

Makoto: Guys, we're going off topic here! (Turns Back to Pit) How exactly did you gotten yourself like this? Did you.....

Pit: Yeah....I tried to fight myself, but...beat me to the punch. (Winces a bit in Pain While Placing His Hand on his Stomach) literally.... And then after that, he tries throwing Kirby off the cliff too-

Everyone: He WHAAAAAAAAAAAAT!?

Pit: (Gets Startled by Everyone's Sudden Outburst Before Speaking Again) Y-Yeah. After I got beaten up and thrown off a cliff, he immediately grabs Kirby by the head and threw him out there too!

Futuba: (Had Enough) OKAY, SERIOUSLY!? What is with this guy and throwing people off CLIFFS!!!?

Pit: That's what I wanted to know!! It's like he has some kind of sick, twisted enjoyment out of it too! I even saw a glimpse of him smirking while I was falling!

Ryuji: I mean, he was thrown off a cliff when he was six. So.......

Futuba: (Starts Pinching her Nose in Disbelief) Oh my freaking God........

Makoto: (Turns to Pit) Pit, do you have any idea where Kirby must've fallen down to once you were on the ground?

Pit: I.... can't say that I do really. All I remembered is seeing was Kazuya preparing to toss Kirby off there with me. After that, I blackouted....

Ren: Wait a minute. Couldn't Kirby fly or-

Ann: I'mma kill him.

Ren/Makoto/Pit: (Slowly Turn their Heads at Ann with a Surprised Look on Each of their Faces) What?

Ann: (Turns to the Trio With Anger in Her Eyes) You heard me. I don't know who this Kazuya guy is and I don't care at this point!! I am going to find the jackass and pulverize him myself!!

Shiho: (Turns to Ann with a Determined Look on her Face) I'll go with you.

Ann: (Gently Grab Both of Shiho's Hands) No, Shiho. I don't want him to hurt you.

Shiho: (Gently Squeezes Ann's Hands) It's okay, Ann. I may not have Personas like you guys, but I've been training for a while now. I can fight too.

Ann: ('Sighs in Defeat') Fine. But you are staying right by my side in all of this, alright?

Shiho: (Nodded in Agreement) Right.

Ryuji: (Turns to Girls With Anger in his Eyes as Well) I'm going too! I don't give a damn he has crazy devil powers! Ain't no way I'm letting him get away with hurting our friends like that!!! And maybe even Ganondorf!!

Yusuke: You know.....(Puts on a Dark Look in his Eyes) It has been a long time since I've used my blade in action.....

Haru: (Has a Darken Look on her Eyes as Well) Couldn't agree more.....My axe has gotten quite dull as of late.....

Morgana: Normally I don't join in on the violence bandwagon immediately....(Puts on a Anger, Determined Look on his Face) But patience be damn! That devil's paying the piece!!

Haru: Well said, sweetie!!

Morgana: (Turns to Lavenza) Lavenza, you're coming with us?

Lavenza: (Already Has a Darken Look on her Face as Well) Of course.....I will punish thee for his cruel and thoughtless actions that was stow upon our two companions. And I will not hesitate to use my full potential in the process. In other words.....(Summons a Blue Colored Chainsaw on the Palm of Her Hands With a Loud Ripping Sound to Boot) The bastard will pay.

Futuba: (Angrily Pumps her Fist Up in the Air) AH YEAH! Let show that punk who's boss!!

Morgana: (Turns to Futuba) Futuba, you don't even know how to fight.

Futuba: (Pours at Morgana) Oh yes I do! Big sis Sae has already taught me the ropes of Self Defense and everything!

Ryuji: We can talk about that later! Right now..... (Points at the Front Door Fiercely) LET'S GET HIS SORRY ASS!!

Everyone: YEAHHHHHHHH!!!!

Makoto: THAT'S ENOUGH!

Makoto stomps her feet to the ground loud enough to get the rest of the Phantom Thieves' attention.

Makoto: ('Sigh') Calm down and think rationally on this, people! We can't go out there and recklessly fight him like that! He could be powerful enough to stop ALL OF US for all we know!

Ren: Makoto's right, guys. And fighting him is not our main focus at the moment. What we need to do right now is find Kirby and bring him back home.

Lavenza: (Stares at the Couple for a Brief Second Before Sighing in Defeat) The Joker and Queen are right....(Makes the Chainsaw Magically Disappear Out Thin Air) It would be foolish of all of us if we rush in without a proper plan of some kind. We must find Kirby at once.

Ryuji: But how are we gonna him in a huge ass town like this? He could anywhere for all we know!

?????: Poyo!

Ryuji: Hey, Kirby. But as I was saying, I- ('GASPS')

Everyone in the room immediately turns around and sees Kirby happily waving at them.

Kirby: Poyo! Poyo!~

Everyone: (Smiles Brightly at the Smiling Pink Puffball) KIRBY!!~

And with that, everyone (with the exception of Ren, Makoto, and Pit) immediately rushes over to Kirby and express how worried and happy they are about his whereabouts and return.

Makoto: (Watches Everyone in the Background While Sighing in Relief) Well....at least Kirby's back home.

Ren: (Smiles Softly) And not a spec of ashes in his body.

Pit: ('Sighs in Relief and Happiness') I'm so glad......I thought I would actually lose him forever. I would've been really pathetic if that were to happen....

Ren: (Eyes Widened at What Put Just Said) You would've been what now?

Makoto: (Turns to Pit with Worry in her Eyes) Pit, what are you talking about?

Pit: Oh....Well, before or....maybe after Kazuya threw me off of a cliff, he...calls "pathetic".......(Starts to Frown Sadly) And I'm starting think he's rig-

Ren/Makoto: NO HE'S NOT, PIT!!

Ren: Don't believe a SINGLE word from his mouth!!

Makoto: You are NOT pathetic, Pit! And you never will be!

Pit: B-But I lost a fight against him! A-And I wasn't even strong enough to protect Kirby.....

Ren: But Kirby's fine now. He knew he was able to float and use that opportunity to fly away safely.

Pit: I-I mean.... You're right, but-

Makoto: (Gently Place her Hands on Pit's Shoulders) But nothing, Pit. We know what happened to the both of you last night was terrible, but you still did everything you could to stop that man regardless of how strong he was at the time and we couldn't be anymore proud. So please.....(Gently Hugs Pit Lovingly) Don't ever think that way about yourself again.....

Pit: (Almost at a Loss of Words) You guys.....(Tears Starts Falling Down From his Eyes) ('Sniff') I'm sorry.....('Sniff') We didn't mean to worry you....

Ren: (Joins in on the Hug) Hey man, you have nothing to apologize for here.

Makoto: Ren's right. We're just happy that you and Kirby are back home safe.

Ren: We love you, Pit. (Kiss the Top of Pit's Head) Always.

Pit: I....('Sniff') (Gently Hugs Ren and Makoto Back) I love you guys too.....('Sniff') So much.........

@keyenuta

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[wonder-womans-ex]

Curtain Call

Act One, Scene Eight 

“I’m home!” Sirius calls, unlocking the door. 

It takes a few seconds, but then, “In here!” comes James’s voice from the living room. 

(‘Living room’ is probably a bit of a stretch, really, because ‘living room’ implies that there are also other rooms, and the fact of the matter is that they have two bedrooms and then a kitchen with a couch and a TV in one half and a table in the other.) (James is, evidently, in the designated couch half of the kitchen.) (Sirius had originally suggested calling it the ‘lounge,’ and it is a sad sign of how determined James is to grow up at least partially that this suggestion did not become a reality.)

Bending down to unlace his combat boots, he shrugs his backpack off and leaves it there on top of James’s checkered Vans and a pair of black sneakers he doesn’t recognize but probably belongs to him. 

He walks past the fridge, glances at the schedule held up by the J and S magnets they got from Peter when they moved into the apartment, and makes a mental note that he has his first rehearsal for Oliver tonight. 

“What’cha watching?” he begins, noticing the flicker of the TV screen, and then stops dead. 

There are a few moments of silence before Sirius grabs one of Elvendork’s catnip mice off the floor and chucks it at his younger brother. “You fucker!”

Regulus sits up from where his head had previously been resting on James’s lap. “Hello to you, too, Sirius.”

“You came to visit! And you didn’t tell me!” 

“In my defense, I didn’t even know I was coming until, like, ten this morning. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.” 

“Hey, they didn’t tell me, either. Just showed up at the door an hour or two ago, knocking like their life depended on it. I thought it was the police coming to tell me you’d been arrested. Or found dead in a ditch.”

“Shut up, James,” Sirius says, rolling his eyes. “Of course they didn’t tell you—I’m his brother.”

“Well, I’m the love of his life.” 

Regulus buries their face in James’s shoulder. “Why did I tell you that?” he groans, and Sirius glances between the two of them, blinking. 

“Wait. Are you two—”

“No,” they say in unison, which clears up absolutely nothing.

“...I think I’m missing something.” 

“You’re definitely missing something.”

(Yes, but what?)

He watches nervously as a significant look passes between them. It’s a conversation, really, but instead of words everything is communicated with eyebrow raises (mostly Regulus) and exaggerated winks (all James). 

Finally, Regulus lets out a huff of breath. “All right,” they say. “Fine!” 

James protests when Regulus climbs off the couch—not at the climbing off the couch part, but because he takes the blanket with him. The two stick their tongues out at each other, and Sirius feels his heart swell. He loves them both so fucking much, and he’s never been so glad that Reg managed to get out of that house, too. He’s not sure what he’d do without his little brother. 

The walk in silence towards Sirius’s bedroom, and Regulus immediately jumps onto the bed once the door is opened. They bounce slightly when their body hits the springy mattress, and they flop over onto their back to stare at the ceiling. 

“I came out to James,” he says, not bothering with pleasantries or preamble. Regulus never has been one for that—straight and to the point is the only way they really know how to do anything. 

“You dated James.” Tact, Sirius, he reprimands himself immediately inside his head. Just because your brother is a conversation heathen you don’t necessarily have to stoop to their levels. 

“Yes, I know I dated James. But… I’m not gay.” 

“Okay.” Sirius pauses, waiting to see if Regulus is going to elaborate further. They don’t, so he prompts, “Do you know what you are?”

“Yeah.” 

(So they’re doing this the hard way, are they? All right—Sirius can work with that.)

“I’m not gay,” Regulus says again. “I’m not pan or bi or any of those things. I’m… I’m asexual. And aromantic.” 

Sirius blinks. He takes this in. He nods. 

He says something that, in fifteen years, he will look back on and want to dunk his head in very cold water for. “But… James.”

“James.” Regulus nods, sighing heavily. “James is different. I don’t know how to explain it—I don’t love him anymore. But… I did. I used to. And I haven’t felt like that about anyone else, well, ever. Yeah.”

Before Sirius can say anything, Regulus starts talking again. “It’s like—what was it you used to say? In high school? ‘Having a crush on James Potter doesn’t make you gay. It makes you human.’ I loved James, but that doesn’t make me allo. Make sense?”

“Yeah. Wait, actually, one thing—so, James is the only person you’re ever loved? Romantically?” 

“Uh huh.”

“And you told him this?”

Regulus brings his hands up, covering his face. “I know. It was a mistake, okay? I should have known it would only inflate his ego even more. I feel like an idiot.”

“Yeah, because you are an idiot.” Sirius reaches over, swatting them on the shoulder. “But at least you’re not as big of an idiot as the guy who knowingly and willingly flirted with his ex today.”

“What?!” 

“Mm hmm. But that’s a story for another time.” Smirking, Sirius glances over his shoulder before beginning to walk backwards out of the room. 

“You fucker!” 

Reg chases him all the (admittedly very short) way back to where James is sprawled on the couch, clearly making good use of his friends’ absence. Finally, Sirius can see what’s playing on the TV—it’s Ocean’s Eleven, and it’s already at least a good half hour in. He and Regulus look at each other, identical smirks etched onto their faces. Together, they jump, and James yelps. 

“Oh, don’t be such a baby,” Regulus tells him jokingly, and there comes a muffled groan from where James’s face is smashed into the pillows. 

Sirius makes sure that James can actually breathe before he starts to make himself comfortable. He’s perched on the small of James’s back; Regulus is settled in the gap between James’s feet. 

“Is this really,” James laments, “how you want to treat your best friend?”

“Yes,” Sirius says, and smothers a laugh. 

“And you, Reggie—have you no respect for the love of your life?”

Regulus pretends to think for a moment, then, “No,” they say. 

The muscles in James’s back tense suddenly, but Sirius doesn’t think much of it. He should, really, because barely an instant later, James heaves himself over, tipping both Black brothers onto the floor. 

“Ouch,” Sirius says, pouting. “My ass hurts.”

Regulus has an unbelievably shit-eating grin on their face. “Loser.” 

“I thought you were on my side!”

“I’m on no one’s side but my own.” 

This is a mistake, and Regulus knows it. His eyes widen when James and Sirius look at each other, nodding, and lunge forward. There is only one weakness to Regulus Arcturus Black, and the two of them know it better than anyone else in the world. 

Because Regulus may be coolly confident with a sharp sense of humour, but they are also extremely ticklish. Their shrieks and laughs are interrupted by the occasional ‘No!’ or ‘Mercy!,’ but it does nothing to quench Sirius and James’s combined ruthlessness. They are unstoppable, and Regulus can do nothing to beat them. 

George Clooney is shouting about something onscreen, but the three young men tussling pay him no mind. The movie plays on, forgotten, and Sirius lets himself forget—just for a moment—that Remus or heartbreak or that fucking writing class exist at all. 

***

“So,” James says through a mouthful of chow mein, “How was the class?”

“It was good.”

Regulus raises an eyebrow. “‘Good?’ You sound like a kid coming home from school to overly inquisitive parents.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’d know all about that.” 

“Fuck off, they didn’t talk to you, either.”’

“Touché.” 

“Go on, Sirius,” James breaks in. “How was it?”

“It was better than last week, at least. Worse, too, I guess, but then it was better.”

“...Elaborate.”

He’s glad for the excuse to. He needs to talk to someone, and therapy’s an obvious no because he doesn’t have the money and also he has a bad track record of scaring therapists away on the first session, so James and Regulus are kind of the only options. (He’s not kidding anyone. He’s been dying to tell the two of them, specifically, for like forever, but Regulus hasn’t visited in ages.) “Well, I found out why Remus broke up with me. And then I met up with his friends at Frankie’s, and apparently they’re my friends now, too, which is cool, because at the moment my only friends are, well, you guys. Oh, and I helped set Marlene up with a girl.” 

There is a pause as both Regulus and James look at him, taking in this information. “Okay,” James says. “Do I want you to tell me more?”

Sirius pokes at his rice with one chopstick. “I dunno.”

“I—um—you mentioned you made some new friends?” continues James. Regulus stifles a laugh, and Sirius has to admit that the phrase ‘make some new friends’ sounds more fitting for a conversation with a grade three than a university student. “What are they like?” 

“Well, there’s Dorcas—the one who’s into Marlene—and she’s, like, the most extroverted extrovert to ever extrovert. Then there’s Frank, who doesn’t talk much, and Mary, who talks even less, but Mary’s got dyed hair so she’s all right, I guess. Alice is pretty cool, too, and then there’s Lily, who’s pretty but terrifying. Oh, and Fabian, who seems to be allergic to not being a nice person, and Caradoc, who I’m almost positive is related to Angelia Jolie because his cheekbones are just that sharp. And Remus, of course, but I’m sure I’ve told you guys enough about him to last a lifetime.” 

When he’s met by only silence, he scrambles for something to say. “They all strike me as the kind of people who would wear ‘gay rights’ t-shirts unironically, which is sort of my only prerequisite when it comes to friendship. Our resident emo not included, of course, because I would never want to force them into anything that isn’t some sort of My Chemical Romance merchandise.”

Regulus looks down at the shirt he’s currently wearing—it’s got the American Beauty/American Psycho album cover on the front—and then back up at Sirius. “Actually, this is Fall Out Boy.”

“Same difference.”

“How dare you.” 

Laughing, James spears another piece of broccoli and gestures with it between the two of them. “Reg, you can’t exactly blame him for his ignorance around your obsolete music tastes.”

“Says the guy who listens to the fucking Monkees—” 

“Fuck off! The Monkees were an icon; a legend—”

“The Monkees are trash.” 

“You’re trash!”

“Whoa, there,” Sirius breaks in. “I dodged a bullet when my only two friends in the world had a friendly breakup instead of an unfriendly one, and the last thing I want is to find out that that bullet is actually a boomerang.” 

Regulus groans. “Okay, first of all, we’ve always spent like fifty percent of our time arguing about music, even while we were dating—which you’d know if you hadn’t started avoiding the two of us like the plague the instant we got together.”

“Shots fired,” James says under his breath, but he’s immediately silenced by a glare from Regulus. 

“Secondly—and more importantly—if you ever make another analogy remotely like that one, I will hurt you. Are we clear?”

“Crystal,” Sirius assures them, but he’s struggling to hold back laughter. 

There’s a pause, and then Regulus crosses his arms, pouting. “What?” 

“Nothing.”

“You’re laughing.”

“Because you’re funny.”

“I’m not funny!”

“You’re cute.”

“I am not cute!”

“Yes, you are!”

Regulus turns on James once more. “James, am I cute?” Clearly, they think better of this, because they quickly add, “Wait, no, don’t answer that.”

“See, you’re cute! And you know it!”

“I give up!”

Sirius sits back in his chair. “You’ve lost, Reg. Admit it. And then get me a fortune cookie.”

“All right. Fine. I’ve lost. But I hope your fortune cookie tells you you’re going to get struck by lightning tomorrow.”

“Sweet; maybe I’ll get cool powers.”

“It doesn’t work like that, moron.”  

“Whatever you say.” 

For a moment, he thinks he’ll have to get the fortune cookies himself, because Reg isn’t going to, but then his little brother stands up and reaches into the brown paper bag on the counter. “Here,” they say, tossing the cookie at Sirius’s head. 

“Hey!” 

James gets a cookie, too, but his is placed on the table in front of him, not at all a threat to his health, well-being, and quite possibly his life. Sirius points this out, labeling it ‘favouritism,’ but Regulus only takes a bite of his cookie and calls him dramatic. 

“You first,” James says, nodding at Regulus, causing Sirius to gasp in betrayal. The other two pay him no mind, however, and Regulus clears his throat. 

“You will,” they say, “come into fair fortune or good will in the near future.” 

Almost immediately, James starts clapping. It’s tradition—after a fortune cookie reading comes the raucous applause. For them, it’s half the fun of ordering Chinese food. 

“All right, my turn.” James squints at the slip of paper in his hands. He holds it up to the light, and then, “Something will happen soon that will change how you look at the world.”

This time, Sirius and Regulus know to wait before they applaud. James always adds something funny after his fortunes, and they’re curious to see what it is he’ll come up with this time. 

“What,” he says, after a brief moment of thought, “will my glasses prescription change or something?”

Sirius looks at Regulus, and they both laugh as they clap. It’s cheesy, entirely too predictable, and basically the most James thing possible. Neither of them knows what really caused them to want to befriend James all those years ago in—oh fuck, it was grade four, wasn’t it?—but it sure as hell wasn’t his sense of humour. 

“Sirius?” It’s said like a question, and Sirius is quick to answer. “On it, Reg,” he says, and breaks his cookie in half with both hands. (Well, he says ‘half;’ it’s really more like a quarter and then the other three.)

He reads out his lucky numbers first, without even looking at the fortune itself—that’s his tradition; he’s the only one of the three of them who does it. “Three, thirteen, seventeen, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, forty.” 

“Isn’t that, like, the fifth time in a row you’ve gotten thirteen?” Regulus says. “That’s gotta mean something.”

“Shut up,” Sirius tells them, and finally he lets his eyes find the tiny lettering that is his fortune. 

Without letting himself hear the words in his head first, he reads them out loud. “You have forgiven easily in the past; it is time to do so again.”

There’s a silence. What is this? It’s not a fortune; it’s a statement. Advice, maybe, but even that’s stretching it a little.

“Well.” James says, and claps, Regulus following quickly after, but Sirius can tell it’s strained. They’re all obviously thinking about the same thing—Remus. 

Somewhere in his head, he knows that this doesn’t necessarily mean anything. It’s a fortune cookie, after all—what does it know? But… maybe it does mean something. He’s not sure which he’s hoping for. 

Seemingly just for something to say, James asks, “Don’t you have rehearsal tonight?”

Sirius is, in a way, glad for the excuse to stand up. “Yeah,” he says, “at seven-thirty—which is twenty minutes from now—so I should probably get going.”

“Probably,” agrees Regulus, as they begin to clear the table. “Need a ride?”

“Nah, I can take the bus,” Sirius begins, and then stops. “Wait, why are you offering? You don’t have a car.”

“Um—”

“Reg, is there something you aren’t telling me?” 

“...Maybe?”

“You have a car?”

“I mean, technically it’s a rental, so no, but—”

“Whatever.” Sirius doesn’t need to hear any more. “Yes, please, take me to rehearsal.”

James makes a noise of protest. “What, and leave me here alone?” 

“Yes, James; you can survive on your own. You’re an adult.”

“I don’t feel like one.”

“Or act like one,” Sirius adds under his breath, which earns him a definitive not helping look from Regulus. 

“You’ll be fine as long as you don’t burn the house down. Goodbye.”

Sirius grabs his script and his blue hoodie with the picture of a rubber duck on it from his bedroom, and when he walks back through the kitchen to the front door, Regulus looks him up and down once and hands him his backpack. 

The only sound that accompanies their walk down the hall and subsequent elevator ride is the faint jingling of the key ring in Regulus’s hand. It’s not until they’re in the car and pulling out of the parking lot that Regulus says, “And you’re all right with this?”

“All right with what?”

“Me being… you know.”

“A total asshole? No. Aroace? Yeah, of course. I’m your brother. I’m here for you, Reg.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

(Sirius ignores the ‘I guess.’) “Is James cool about it? Because if he isn’t, I’ll kick his ass.”

“No, he’s fine. He’s great. He made a couple jokes about himself having raised my expectations so much I could never be with anyone else, but that’s just James.” 

“That’s just James,” Sirius repeats. “And you know that you can always talk to me, right? If anyone tries to mess with your head?”

“Yeah. Now, enough about me. Let’s talk about the guy who ‘knowingly and willingly flirted with his ex’ earlier.”

Damn. He’s hoped Regulus had forgotten about that. 

For a moment, Sirius is trapped between the want to stubbornly refuse and the need to actually talk about his feelings. He settles on the latter, but not until they’re close enough to the rec centre where rehearsals are held that he knows he can hop out of the car and walk the rest of the way if need be. “He’s just… he’s everything, you know?

“And I know that he doesn’t want to get back together, and I know that we really shouldn’t even if he did. But he’s Remus. And I’m constantly flip-flopping back and forth between wanting to be his friend because we’ll never be anything more than that, and…”

“And what?”

“Being so in love with him it hurts.”

Regulus glances away from the road ahead for a split second, eyes flickering over Sirius's face, their expression unreadable. “Sounds like a you problem,” they say finally. 

“Reg?”

“Yeah?”

“Not helping.”

“Sorry.” 

“I just—my eyes basically turn to hearts whenever I look at him, but it also hurts, you know? Because he broke up with me, obviously, but also because today I found out that the reason he broke up with me was that he kissed someone else, so obviously that’s kind of shitty, and I don’t know how to feel about any of this because he’s basically the nicest person in the world, and can one mistake really change who a person is? But he also hasn’t tried to make up or anything, and we’re apparently pretending we’ve never met, and did I mention he’s got a fucking tattoo of the Sirius constellation that he never told me about, and… this is my stop.”

Regulus pulls over, wincing a little as the tire grates against the curb, and then turns to meet Sirius’s gaze. “So, it sounds like you’re not in a great place right now,” he says. “And I get that. You know this goes both ways, right? You can always talk to me, too.”

“I know. Love you.” He grabs his backpack, making sure it’s got everything he needs in it—phone, script, highlighter and pencil for notes and directions, bottle of red Gatorade—and closes the door. 

The window rolls down slightly, and Sirius watches his own reflection disappear with it and be replaced by his brother’s faint smile. “Love you, too,” Regulus says, and then he is gone.

[unwiltingblossom]

this seems like a great time to talk about how I actually love Lucien/MC even though MLQC insists on using it to just go ahead and rip my heart out and stomp on it with them.

(assorted spoilers up to gloomy date, I guess, which is post-ch24)

Okay so...like. Even though Lucien knew her as a child like others, his interaction with her just seemed to be a lot more minimal.

Unlike Victor and Kiro, he hasn’t been deeply in love with the idea of her since childhood, and he isn’t even able to say he loved her since high school and turned his life around for her. She was just a (very important) mark he was supposed to lure into a trap by appearing to be sweet and innocent to gain her trust and then striking.

Despite all of his best effort and interests, and even his core moral ideals, this girl literally brought color into his life, and her immediate, warm trust of him completely compromised and overcame the cold and ruthless Ares basically immediately, until he wastes at least a year, possibly even two, just making up excuses not to bring her in, clinging to her because she’s the only thing that he loves in his life, while also unsubtlely trying to clue her in to push her away for her own safety. He puts aside his own beliefs and desires about evolution - and even ends up changing them ever so slightly - solely because of his love for her.

And, partly because they knew they had to make the romance strong enough to survive the plot twist, I think it’s fair to say that her feelings run deepest and most painful for him, because she just fell completely for the gentle scientist who shared all her interests. She teaches him to love, she recognizes that hes’ hiding things - but doesn’t know why - and relentlessly pushes herself and him so that she can love and accept all of him, and even when it turns out he’s betrayed her completely, and she actually believes he feels nothing for her, she still can’t push those feelings away.

and yet despite him trapping and betraying her, she still. trusts him. So much that she rashly chases after him and keeps confronting him in the Eternal Winter where he’s just Ares, and the man who loved her isn’t there at all, and never existed.

And FRANKLY LET ME JUST POINT OUT. It’s when Lucien looks at her without any recognition that her spirit really breaks during that initial run around the timeline. She’d yet to find Gavin, so there was still a chance, however small, that someone might remember her or be able to remember, but she doesn’t even wait that long, because a Lucien that can’t remember her is, apparently, that much more painful to her.

And Lucien.

Because his love for her isn’t predicated on her saving him as a child, or being his light in the darkness, just that in this moment she is the one who brings beauty into a world he doesn’t believe possesses any beauty, Even though she runs headfirst and almost gets herself killed coming up against Ares, she (who has grown and changed now because of what Lucien taught her) immediately rattles him and his beliefs, and without even realizing it is slowly chipping away at his plans, his ideals, and his ruthlessness.

I dunno, I kind of want to get into it deeper, but it would require going into all the other boys and how they feel about her, to compare why he’s falling so much harder and faster for her than the others (so far), and why she just can’t stop loving him, even when  he keeps proving he’s not the same person she remembers.

Also, it’s entirely optional content and so of uncertain canonicity, but the Lucien branches in ch19 and 24 just really make it hit harder. That her ideal dream is just to live with Lucien again before the truth came out, and that in her darkest and most desperate time, her soul called out to and summoned Lucien to her side (and then he had the boldness to say ‘no matter how much you need me....I need you more’ despite this)

Their relationship theoretically should be the shallowest, because it’s built on deceptive foundations and is so much shorter, and suffers from moral conflicts between them...but man. it’s the one that gets me the most.

[thefreakydeaky]

Call Out My name

Part Seven Title: Pretty

Characters: Negan, Reader, A stupid little prick named Rick Grimes, Garbage pail kid Daryl Dixon, Tanya and Frankie, Gregory, Mentions of Simon, Dwight,Sherri, Amber, Ezekiel, Maggie Rhee, Wives: Tanya and Frankie, and Lucille.

Summary: You belonged to him.Try as you might to pretend indifference, Negan’s very presence has awakened feelings in you that you believed had died with the old world.Is the ruthless King of the Sanctuary still human enough to fall in love?

Warnings: Language, Canon Typical Negan BS, Canon Typical Violence, A bit of gore, Angst.

Word Count: 3,557

“What did I miss?” Negan inquired as the door shut behind him.

"I dunno what you mean.” You struggled to remove your panties.

“Sin-since when do you get into cat fights?” His eyebrows raised as he watched you hop around clumsily. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Taking off my bra and panties.” You huffed pulling one arm into your dress to work open the clasps.

“Stop it.Here let me.”Negan shook his head in exasperation as he came to stand in front of you.

His long fingers gathered the soft material of your dress.He lifted it up over your head and slid it down your arm.

“Not that I’m complaining, but why are you gettin’ undressed?”

“I’m too hot for clothes.”

Negan grinned. “You sure are.”

“No.That’s not what I mean.Meant?Mean?”

“How much did you have to drink?” With one deft movement, he unclasped your bra.

He made it seem so easy.You pouted, glaring down at your exposed tummy pensively.

“I should be able to do that. I’m the one with boobs!” You complained.

Negan chuckled a smooth melodic sound.His warm hands slipped the bra straps off of your shoulders, freeing your arms, exposing your breasts.

“Panties too.” You reminded.

The hint of a smile played around his lips as he slipped the waistband of your slightly skewed underpants off of your hips.He knelt down.Something occurred to you as you watched him slide the thin fabric to your ankles.

“How come you’re home so early?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.” His index finger tapped the top of your foot. “Lift.”

You leaned forward to sturdy yourself, hanging onto his leather clad shoulder as you raised your foot.

Negan unhooked your underpants from around one ankle, guided your foot back to the floor, and repeated the process with your left foot.

“Are you trying to start a mutiny of the wives or did you get bored enough in there to start shit for no reason?”

Knowing eyes looked up at you.

“I didn’t start it! Sherri did!”

“Did she now?”

“She could start an argument in an empty house.”

“You act pretty high and mighty for someone who sucks the same cock we do.” Negan quoted watching for your reaction.

“Well she does! She was being a-a-a judgey mcjudgerson!”

“A what?”

“A jerk.” You amended.

“Sherri is always “a jerk”.What was different about today?”

You frowned. “The vodka?”

“No.” He replied standing slowly back up.

“...the me?” You mumbled guiltily.

Negan cupped his hand behind his ear gazing at you expectantly.

“Me, I was different, because I got mad.”

“Mhmm.”

“I was angry so I egged her on.”

“That’s not the Y/n I know.” He admonished, taking your chin in his hand.

He tilted your face up and looked you in the eye.

“She said somethin’ mean.”

His brow furrowed. “Mean?”

“We were playing Never have I ever...”

“Mhmm...”

“And Amber said ‘Never have I ever wanted to sleep with Simon.’ Obviously I took a shot.” You recognized the spark of jealousy in his eyes.

“It’s the way the game works!”You defended. “Then Sherri said “Simon?” And I was like 'What’re you surprised?' And she said 'Not even a little.'”

Negan took a deep angry breath.

You jumped back into your case to keep him from yelling at you.

“It was the way she said it.” You emphasized.”Like like I was dirty like I was below her.”

The corner of his lip pulled back in a near snarl.

You could already see how his needless anger would play out.

“And not just me.”You back tracked, “Tanya and Frankie too! I mean how can you blame me?Honestly, she freaking implied that we were sluts or whores or-or worse just cause we’re married to you.She forgets that we’re equals and talks down to us. What was I supposed to do, let her??No no no.”

Negan ran a hand through his hair.His anger had gone down from a boil to a simmer.He struggled to adjust.

“Ugh, I knew it!You’re stuck on the Simon part.You just don’t get it.”

“You were fightin’ over another man! How the hell do you think that makes me feel?”

“It wasn’t about Simon.I was giving you context so you would know how I went from putting up with her to wanting to kick her ass.” You explained, annoyed with his one track mind.

“What the fuck is so great about that scumbag anyway? What’s got y’all so obsessed?”

You sighed loudly.

“Nobody is obsessed! Amber was making fun, cause she thinks he’s ugly.”

“At least one of my wives is smart.”

You rankled at the bitterness in his voice.

“Well I can’t tell you why Tanya and Frankie wanted to sleep with Simon! I can only tell you why I did!”

“Why did you?” He wore a guarded expression.

You rolled your eyes.

“Mostly to piss you off. He’s got the whole second man in charge thing going for him and that works for some people, but for me, it was about how mad I was at you.”

Negan blinked, processing your words.

“You wanting to sleep with Simon was about Me?”

“That’s ... one hell of an over simplification, but yes. It was.You acted like a total dickwad from the second we met to the night I almost slept with him.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but you put your finger to his lips in a shushing gesture.

“Yes, me wanting to sleep with Simon was about you.Ninety-five percent of the time I was talking to him, I thought of you.”

“And the other five percent?”

“You gotta be kidding me! Is ninety-five not enough?”

“Why wasn’t it a hundred percent of the time?"

“I hadn’t had sex in years!”

“Hmm...”

You interrupted his thinking with a slow languid kiss. He kissed you back savoring your affection.

“I don’t like drama,Doll.I’ll forgive you this time.You girls got sauced after all, but don’t you go making trouble again.”

“What about Sherri?”

“Collateral damage.”

You exhaled sharply at the sympathy in his voice.

“Dwight needed to learn his place and the only way to do that without cracking open skulls was to threaten him with Lucille.”His thumb stroked over your jaw lightly.

“That doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

“Sherri offered herself up in exchange for his life.That just so happened to fit my agenda.So, ‘mean’ though she may be she was telling the truth.” Negan looked down and away for a minute.The deceptively charismatic smirk he wore like armor returned to its place.

“Not for nothin’ but not one of us became a wife because we were lookin’ to put our feet up, except for Frankie.” You pointed out.

“Amber went through some really bad shit.She feels indebted to you for saving her.Tanya’s mom was sick, in a lot of pain, and needed morphine.We both know how I ended up here-“

“Sherri doesn’t know that.” He interrupted.

“That’s my point, she shouldn’t talk about what she doesn’t know.Talk shit.Get hit.Just sayin’.”

“You are impossible...Why don’t you go on and get that gorgeous bottom of yours in the shower? It’ll help you cool down.” He suggested.

“Won’t you come with me? You tried, entwining your fingers with his.

He brought your hand to his lips and pressed a small regretful kiss to it.

Negan’s sigh was bone weary.

“I’d love to, Darlin’ ,but Daddy’s got work to do.” He waggled his eyebrows at you.

Your face heated at the memory of your sarcastic remark.

“It was a joke.” You groaned.

“Not to me. I think Daddy might be my favorite nick name yet.” He taunted, watching you saunter to the bathroom to start your shower.

You heard his easy laughter receding as he left you to your own devices.

Not far from The Sanctuary, a militia made up of rebel misfits made their final preparations to dethrone the self-professed king.

Once upon a pre-apocalypse time, Rick Grimes thought of himself as a simple man.There was right and there was wrong,very seldom was there anything in between.When there was, it simply meant the situation needed resolving. Once resolved it would fall into one of those two basic categories and all was well with his world again.

However, that was before the apocalypse. Before his family’s survival twisted his morality into something neither black nor white, but a stormy weather grey. The many traumatic situations, trials and tribulations he and his chosen family had faced, forced his grey morality to stain a little darker, but no crisis had pushed him so close to the edge as Negan. Abraham and Glenn, along with so many others had lost theirs lives to the violent sociopath and his merry band of murders.He’d sworn vengeance on their oppressor.Now that vengeance was finally coming to fruition.

“...Those people who use, take, and kill, to carve out the world and make it their’s and their’s alone, We end them...” His soulful blue eyes took a moment to gaze meaningfully into the face of each member of his ragtag army.

“There’s only one person that has to die tonight”His gruff voice assured them, “and I will kill him myself.”

He could see his words already taking affect, giving their anger the justification of righteousness and their thirst for savior blood conviction.Rick kept watching, patiently as Ezekiel roused them with brotherhood and as Maggie Rhee gave them hope.Unlike Negan, it gave him no pleasure to manipulate minds like this.The ends he reminded his conscience would justify the means.

For the greater good!

His inner voice declared.He accepted the words as gospel.

The caravan barreled through the fences taking the few saviors, who weren’t out checking the far perimeter, by surprise. Four shots were fired into the air breaking up an impromptu meeting Negan was having with Hilltop’s incompetent leader.He and his men strolled out onto the platform to gauge the situation.

“Well I’m sorry” Negan apologized insincerity in his voice. “I was in a meetin’’.”

Upon laying eyes on Gregory, Rick Grimes snorted.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

Negan’s sharp eyes roved over the caravan of misfit warriors, taking in the army, the battle ready vehicles, their many firearms. All of this would not have given him pause, except for one thing, the determination and fury on their faces.

“Now, I don’t see a reason why we should have us a shoot out,” He snarked, wondering anxiously if you were at the window of his bedroom right now.

Hoping you had heard the warning shots and taken cover, he resumed his performance.

“I have to look out for the safety of my people. I can’t let myself get wrapped up in playing cops and robbers just because you want to find out if my dick is really bigger than yours.” He paused like a comedian building suspense before a punchline, “It is.”

He smiled confidently. “We all know it.”

“This isn’t a game.” Rick Grimes intoned, his solemn countenance causing Simon to mutter an epithet under his breath. “This is a reckoning and your time has come.”

The shoot out that followed was a chaos of ricochetting bullets, screams of pain, and shouted orders. Minutes passed like seconds. Simon called out to Negan, they had reinforcements coming.

As it turned out, so did Rick Grimes.Of all the surprises Negan imagined the colonies to have under their sleeves, not being able to count on his silver tongue to buy time or get him out of such an impossible bitch of a situation wasn’t one, the colonies using the entirety of their separate communities, young and old, wasn’t one, and a heard of the dead filtering into his God damn Sanctuary sure as fuck wasn’t one.

Rick the Prick’s first spray of bullets missed Negan by a second.He dove out of the way and down a flight of stairs. When he reached the bottom he was a little worse for the wear, but his body was still in one piece.He was also resourceful enough to pick up the gun of a fallen Savior and stay out of the crosshairs for a bit.

His brain went into survival mode, pushing him to shoot back, pulling him back behind the dumpster before he could get himself shot. Negan’s gun ran out of bullets all too soon.

“Sonuvabitch!” He ground out, running to the nearest port in the shit storm, a rusty old trailer.

His heart beat so damn loud, he’d forgotten how terrifying a herd could be when you had nothing, but your will to live and your flight response to get you out of it.He heard glass breaking.

Y/n

His pulse jumped in his throat.Of all the days for you to drink you had to choose today.He couldn’t bear the thought of them getting to you.They could hate him all they all wanted, he’d done his share of fucked up shit. He deserved it. What he felt he didn’t deserve was for the consequences of his actions to effect you.

Another spine chilling thought circled in his brain.

“Everyone of you go to your rooms!!”

Had he doomed you all? Like he’d doomed her? A memory of bright blue eyes and a very expressive face loomed over him ominously.

Different time.Different situation.Different woman.He told himself pushing her memory away, down deep in the coffin shaped box where he kept his grief.

A newer memory arose unbidden, He took your hand in his, kissed it softly, and looked into your eyes.All trace of bravado and falsehood dissipated as he let you see him. The real Negan and the effect one night with you’d had on him.

"Can I trust you, Y/n?”

“Yes, you can.”You laced your fingers between his.

“How can I be sure you won’t think my love for you is a weakness?”He watched your face cautiously.

“You aren’t weak.Neither am I.We have both put survival above everything else.”

You were resourceful.You were unbelievably resilient. Negan resolved to trust you to keep yourself alive.At least until he could reach you.

The trailer door blew wide open.Negan fisted the black material attached to whatever dickhead had been dumb enough to enter his refuge and pulled the door shut. The wide doe eyes of Alexandria’s creepy bald clergyman found his face in the dark.

The firing of live ammunition sounded from somewhere below you. In nothing, but a bra and a fresh pair of panties you ran to the wall of windows.Simon and a few of the saviors had taken cover and were taking their best shots at hitting something other than the corrugated steel the invaders were using as shields.Your mind went into over drive.You couldn’t see Negan out there.No sign of his black leather clad back anywhere.At least you knew he was alive.He wasn’t lying on the ground or you’d surely have seen him. A borage of bullets hit some of the panes of glass below.You dove to the ground and began crawling behind the nearest piece of furniture you could.Unfortunately, the closest was a sofa.Cushions and plywood wouldn’t be enough to keep you safe.You lay as flat against the floor as you could as the gunfire reached your floor.The cacophony out there went from loud to ear splitting within seconds.

A sharp angry pain caused you to cry out, but you weren’t willing to risk getting shot again to check the wound.Soon afterwards the shooting died down.They’re running out of ammo, you thought.They must need to make every bullet count.Your heart felt so heavy.Please Lord keep him safe.You prayed.You knew he wasn’t perfect by any means nor was he innocent, but you loved him.You couldn’t fathom a world without him.A moment of quiet passed as you reflected on your husbands many sins.You found yourself struggling to maintain your composure.You wanted so badly to fall apart, but there wasn’t time for that.There was no doubt in your mind that he would eventually come for you, but you couldn’t stay here and wait.It wasn’t safe.

You got onto your hands and knees and clambered to the closet.You cursed Negan’s stupid wives club bullshit for robbing you of your jeans.You only owned two outfits.A black dress with spaghetti straps or a white grass stained sundress.You silently fumed as you pulled the dress on.You owned exactly one pair of shoes these days and they were a pair of black flats, not made for trekking through the forest. You decided to take a pair of socks and Negan’s red kerchief from his night stand.The long tube socks you used to stifle the bleeding of your wound.You tied the kerchief around your wrist. As you left your bedroom behind, you quickly began assessing the damage.You found the parlor doors were wide open. Sherri was long gone, but Tanya and Frankie seemed to be waiting around for...something.

“He isn’t coming.” The statement left your mouth reluctantly.

You knew deep inside that he would come back, eventually. However, seeing the girls fall apart spurred you to action. “We have to go.”

“We can’t leave! We won’t make it!” Tanya cried, her eyes frantic.

“We will! We can!” They looked unconvinced.

“I’ve led a group before.” You sighed exasperated with their dithering.

Frankie’s eyes darted from the room you had just left to the parlor doors.

They’ll probably drag us out of here if we stay.” She said slowly to Tanya, “and who knows what else they’ll do to us.” She swallowed nervously.

“She’s right.” You told Tanya.”We don’t know who or what we’re dealing with here and we shouldn’t stick around to find out.”

Tanya nodded slowly accepting the dire straits you were in.Trying to ignore the fear and anxiety she was radiating, you lead them to the doors.The empty hallway was not at all inviting, but you had no choice except to slip quietly into it.Frankie and Tanya followed.There was shouting and shooting in the distance.The further you walked the closer the noises sounded.You peaked around the first corner.

An arrow whizzed toward you.You ducked back behind the wall, your breathing sharp and quick with shock.You stayed as still as possible, waiting for another arrow to come, but none did. Instead there were heavy angry footsteps.The face of a man appeared, haggard sweaty and holding a cross bow in front of him.Tanya and Frankie yelped holding each other tight.

“Weapons?” He demanded.

“W-we don’t have any.” Frankie stuttered.

“Bullshit!” He barked and demanded you put your hands up.

You complied, more for the good of the wives than for your own.Stout fingers and a large palm invasively explored any place you might be hiding a gun or knife.

“Get on the ground.”He commanded and moved on to check Frankie, then Tanya.

“Who are you?” He asked suspiciously.

“We’re...wives” Tanya sniffed between sobs.“Negan’s wives.”

He grunted more to himself than to you.Static crackled from the walkie on his belt.

“Darryl, You find anything?”

“I found the wives,”He sounded disappointed. “They’re unarmed."

“Go ahead and bring ‘em with you.”A deep voice intoned.

“Sure.”Darryl replied.

“Anyone else back there?” He nodded toward the direction you came from.

“No.” You stated evenly.

“Get up.” He grabbed onto Frankie’s arm and pushed her ahead of him.

“Ladies first.” He mocked, making you go back the way you came.

Daryl stopped at every room.Checked every space a person could possibly hide.When you got back to the parlor, he tore the place apart looking for any one hidden. He found no one. He checked the other rooms found them empty and called to someone on the walkie.

“All clear.” He informed him.

“Good.Meet us on the first floor.”

[smol-and-grumpy]

Something Just Like This - CH03

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester, mobster boss. He’s a little cocky, a lot ruthless and more often than not, short tempered. But he’s also, Dean Winchester, a war veteran and hero who suffers under a shit ton of PTS. He met her in a bar and thinks it’s fate that brought her to him. Little does he know why she’s really here.

Warnings: I don’t even bother with the warnings because lol, there’s none. Maybe a little feeling? I dunno.

WC: 3564

SERIES MASTERLIST

The drive back is dragging and Dean feels that the alcohol in his bloodstream did nothing to help him clear his head or calm him down. If anything, it just leaves him more agitated. 

He dreads going back. Dreads having to face his responsibility because more than anything, he wants to shut himself in his room and not want to deal with all the problems he has to face lately.

Fergus MacLeod, the mayor of the city called in earlier today, said that he’d be at Sam’s law firm opening, told Dean that he hoped that there would be lots of women too. Crowley’s been a lover of the ladies, and Dean knows that he needs Crowley on his side. And Dean hates that, hates that he’s being played like a puppet, his strings held together by a mayor who has more skeletons in the closet than Dean does and yet, he can’t expose him because Dean and his men would go down with him.

Maybe that’s why he decided to go to the Roadhouse for a drink. But who is he kidding, because in reality he went in to see her. 

Now he’s on the way back when all he wants is to have stayed longer. 

He wishes he could turn back time, go back to sitting at the bar and actually talking to Y/N. It took him what? Almost two hours to summon his courage to talk to her? What the fuck is wrong with him? He doesn’t even know himself anymore. He’s usually much smoother than that.

Sure enough, as soon as he walks down the winding stairs to the library of the bunker, Sam’s already on his case.  

“Where have you been?” Sam asks when Dean steps off the last step, Dean’s one foot shy from touching the ground.

The bunker has been their HQ since the building that used to house their HQ blew up with their dad still in it. Sam had found this place, something to do with his love for books and shit. Dean doesn’t really understand, but it’s a good place, secluded, nobody around, nobody could know what’s going on in here. And it has some bedrooms for when they’re too lazy to go home. Which, lately, happens more often than not, Dean reckons. 

“Jeez, mom, I went and had a drink, alright,” Dean scoffs and sits down at the table, running his hand through his hair, ruffling it up in the process, “Didn’t know that I have to report my every fucking move to you.” 

“You went to the Roadhouse?” Sam raises an eyebrow in question as he shuffles through the stack of papers laid out before him and Dean looks at him, his eyebrows pulled together. “Called Ellen,” Sam shrugs. 

Dean breathes out. I need a fucking drink, he thinks, but of course he knows that he can’t, he doesn’t want Sam to worry about his drinking habit too much. Sam would go all wise-ass on him, telling him that he should fucking talk more instead of using alcohol as his coping mechanism because, apparently, that is not healthy. Dean’s sick of hearing it. 

“Don’t get why you always go there. It’s an hour out! We have a couple of good bars here too, you know that right? Not that you should be drinking anyway, but you do know that you even own some of the bars?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean’s head hurts from rolling his eyes. 

“You took the Impala?”

“Of course I took my Baby,” Dean’s eyes narrow as he looks at Sam. He knows where this is going. Still, he can’t sit on his damn mouth and challenges his brother, “Why? Am I not allowed to take my own car and go have a fucking drink on my fucking own?”

Sam’s face softens up. He knows that Dean’s aggression is not really directed at him. Dean’s frustrated and Sam gets that, “We have a garage full of great bulletproof SUVs. Just saying,”

“Bulletproof.” Dean snorts.

“Yeah,” Sam nods, “You never know Dean. We don’t know about Lucifer. Maybe he’s butthurt and thinks that if he kills you, he can come back. For all I know, he could have a bullet with your name on it. No, I’m pretty sure he has a bullet with your name on it!” 

“Bullets ain’t killing me, Sam.” Dean sighs. 

“Oh, just because you were lucky in Afghanistan you think you’d be lucky here?” Sam slams in fits on the table and Dean didn’t spare a glance, “Newsflash Dean, you’re not immortal!”

There’s footsteps coming in from the kitchen and Dean turns to look at the source, thankful for whoever is here with them because then they could maybe change the subject.

Cas appears with a mug of coffee in his hand. “Fucking finally the boss graces us with his presence.” 

Dean can’t help but roll his eyes again, and thinks that he really needs a fucking drink but instead of drinking, he thinks that he can maybe distract himself with work, “So, what’s on the schedule? When does the cargo arrive?”

He watches Cas blow at the coffee before the man takes a sip and swallows, “2AM, you’re in?” 

“Why shouldn’t I be in?” Dean asks, a little hurt, a lot offended.

“Well, last time you drank yourself into a coma.” Cas shrugs and Dean couldn’t help but notice Sam’s side eyes. 

Yeah, that might have been true. He’s under a lot of pressure since there’s been news that Lucifer now has his own army of people who could make Dean’s life a living hell. 

Lucifer was his Dad’s right hand man. Well, before Dean came back and took over, he was even running the fucking joint with Sam. He was butthurt when Dean came back and instead of going back to being just a right hand man, Lucifer decided to leave and set up something on his own. He’s since been manipulating and stealing from Dean and Dean can’t say that he’s fucking thrilled about that.

“That was one fucking time, Cas!” Dean huffs, rubbing over his scruff and darts his tongue out to wet his lips, “2AM. I’m coming with you.”

      Ellen takes the cash out of the register and Y/N notices her doing that very thing a couple of times during the night. Ellen, apparently, still has some trust issues but can Y/N really blame her? 

No, she really can’t. She wouldn’t trust someone who’s only been working here for four days with the money, too. She wonders what made Jo leave, thinks that it maybe has something to do with the people who frequented the bar. 

Although Y/N’s only been here for four days, she’s been grabbed and groped by so many greasy fingers that she really had to teach someone a lesson for the others to stop making the same mistake. She thought that Ellen would be angry at her for causing a scene with blood spattered on the dirty wooden floor, and a patron suffering from a broken jaw, but Ellen just laughed it off and placed her hand on Y/N’s shoulder, “You’re doing great.” She said and Y/N can’t say that she wasn’t proud to hear that.

Yeah, she thinks, I can manage here. Besides, there are some really great guys and she gets so much information on the business that the Winchesters are running, even if it’s from hearsay. 

  *

 It’s almost 4AM and the Roadhouse is empty with only Ash who’s laying passed out on the pool table. The sight’s not unusual, though. He’s done that four nights in a row now and Y/N thinks that it might be his MO. I’ll wake him up when I’m finished, she thinks and continues to fill the bucket to sweep the floor. 

She’s in the middle of sweeping in the corner of the bar — where it strangely stinks of piss — when she hears the door opening and closing. She stops to sweep mid-motion and tilts her head to the door, her mind already thinking about how she could fend off the attacker, because, let’s be real, nothing good happens after 4AM, right? The broom in her hand can be a deadly weapon and she grips onto it a little tighter.

Breathing out a relief, she smiles when she sees that she doesn’t really have to fend for her life. “We’re closed.” She says simply.

Dean runs his hand through his hair and sighs, he rubs over his jaw and opens his mouth to say something but he doesn’t. Instead, he looks around and walks behind the bar to retrieve a bottle of whiskey out of the pantry. She didn’t even know Ellen kept any whiskey there.

Dean takes a tumbler from the top shelf and looks back at her, “I just need a drink.” 

Y/N stops sweeping and looks at him puzzled. She watches as he pours himself a finger and tips the glass back, downing the shot in one go. He shakes his head at the burn and sets the glass down to fill it some more.

She abandons the cleaning, takes a couple of steps towards the bar and Dean raises his eyebrows in question when she approaches. He grins suddenly, bright and wide, and turns around to get another glass, “Come on, drink with me.” 

“I’m working,” She says and is a little embarrassed at how it might have sounded. But the fact is, that she never drinks when she’s working, and she isn’t really keen on changing that, even if she’s undercover. 

Dean chuckles lightly, “You’re really a good girl, aren’t you?” He says with a smirk, and she doesn’t know if he’s making fun of her but the look he gives her doesn’t seem like he’s joking. It’s more like some kind of statement. A fact. And also, it’s true. 

He waits for her signal, the bottle tipped to the glass, waiting to somehow hear an ‘okay’ before he would pour it but he doesn’t press any further. The grin is still on his face, like he knows that she’ll say ‘yes’ and she hates him for knowing it. Hates, how he can read her mind.

Dean winks at her before he pours it and she takes the glass as he laughs. It’s loud, sharp, his deep voice drumming in the silence of the bar. He walks out from behind the counter and sits on the bar stool. The same one he sat in earlier.

“Cheers,” He says and clinked his glass to hers.

“Cheers,” She echoes him, and takes a sip of the brown liquid, shakes her head and squints her eyes through the burn which made Dean laugh out loud. 

“I’m sorry,” Dean says then, “For bursting in. Didn’t know where else I should go, and I needed a drink.” 

She hops from the stool and takes another sip before she walks back to her broom, “That’s alright. I just need to finish so I can go home. Guess Ellen doesn’t mind you’re here?” 

“Well, I don’t know,” Dean shrugs, stands up and takes off his jacket, “Where is she anyway?”

“Counting money in the back. Told me to close up.” 

    They had been stood up. Cas and him were waiting but the driver never arrived. Dean guesses that something has happened. Maybe Lucifer got wind. Someone has got some fucking explaining to do, because Dean’s sure that there’s a fucking rat amongst his men. And he hates that, hates being played. He’s the one who does the playing, and it should never be the other way around. 

He let Cas track the vehicle with GPS and thought that he needed a goddamn drink to deal with all this. 

Before Dean even knew where he’s going, he was driving towards the Roadhouse and he doesn’t even know if it was still open, doesn’t know if she’d still be there, but he just needs fucking something to get him over the bad night. Something to calm his fucking nerves.

He ignored the Closed sign on the door, was damn happy that the door was still unlocked and when he stepped in, he thought that he made a mistake but he couldn’t back out now. She’d already seen him. So, forward he went. Even though he knew that he was making a fool out of himself.

Dean ignored her at first, ignored the beating of his heart when he heard her voice and went straight for the pantry. 

And now he’s here, taking off his jacket and tie and rolling back his sleeves because he’s holding her back from work and the least he can do is lending her a hand.

She’s a good girl, he can see. Wonders if she’s ever done anything illegal, wonders if she’d be appalled knowing he’s done something illegal — still does, every fucking day. And he really wonders how a good fucking girl ends up here at the Roadhouse. 

He walks over to her, holding a hand out and she’s reluctant at first but then hands the broom over to him with a shy smile on her face. 

“Where were you? That corner there?” Dean is pointing his chin to a corner and walks over, the stench of piss penetrates his nostrils the closer he gets, “Woah, tell Ellen to do something about it. Build another fucking toilet or something!” 

He hears her giggle behind him as he scrubs away at the floor, thinking that it’s a fucking beautiful sound. 

    Y/N wonders why Dean does it. A man with his power, with his money, is cleaning off piss from the floor of a dingy bar. She can’t help but giggle at the image in front of her. 

Standing back, she watches, watches his muscled backside moving, watches the tense in his forearm. Watches the firm ass in his dress pants, and she feels blood rushing up to her cheeks. 

Fuck. She should not be thinking that about someone she’s paid to get close to. Because after all, that’s the truth and her real job. She’s paid to find out more about him. And somehow, she thinks, she might find out more about Dean than she sets herself out to. If he’d let her, that is. But right now, she thinks that she’s doing quite alright.

When Dean finishes, his face beams with pride. “So, can we get back to that drink?” He asks, when she takes the bucket from him and rolls it towards the sink attached to the bar. 

She lifts it up and empties the dirty water into it while Dean sits back on his bar stool and watches her with some kind of admiration. Why? Did he really think that she couldn’t lift a fucking bucket of water? It’s not that hard. She went through worse in training. 

Y/N wipes at the counter afterwards, sipping away at her drink while Dean pours himself another. It’s his..what? Fifth? Sixth? Not that she’s counting or anything, but he should really not be doing any driving in the near future. 

When she finishes wiping down the counter top, she washes her hand, and she steps back behind the counter opposite of Dean. 

“You should really drink up so I can go home and shower the stink of the night off me,” She’s feeling a bit woozy in the head, the whiskey clearly fucked up her brain because how else could she explain what she just said. She’s normally not the one to reveal too much, but also she’s usually not the one who drinks, so there’s that. Normally she’d have a beer or a glass of wine in the span of an hour or so, her body can take that, but not whiskey. She’s not made for drinking too much alcohol, she guesses. 

“Now that’s an image that I’ll never get out of my head,” He says easy, his eyes looking straight at her and there’s a smirk. 

He teases her, she thinks, right?  

“I take it, it’s my cue to go,” He clears his throat, tips the glass to his lips and throws his head back. His Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows, and she bites down on her bottom lip, thinks how nice his throat looks. 

Ugh.

“I’m sorry but I’m really tired,” She apologizes and Dean waves her off.

“It’s my fault. I kept you from going home. So,” He says, putting his jacket back on, “Say, do you want to wake up Ash or shall I?” 

“Shit, Ash.” 

“Let me,” Dean smiles, walking back behind the bar and takes a pint from the stack, fills it at the tap with cold water. He sticks his tongue out, resting it at the corner of his lips while he laughs to himself and she thinks that it’s fucking cute, even though she should not be thinking that. At all.

Dean winks before he walks over to the pool table, “Fire! Fire!” Dean yells, his voice rough and loud as he empties the pint on Ash’s face, making the other man jolt up with a scream. 

They were both laughing and Dean tips his head back, his hand hugging his belly. 

“What the fuck, Dean!” Ash is heard saying as he hops off the table, “Y/N! You let him do that to me? Really? And I really liked you!”

“I’m sorry!” She says, still laughing hard. 

Dean grabs Ash around his shoulders and walks him to the back of the bar, where Ash has a room. “Let’s get you to bed, buddy. And hey, I need you to get back to Cas as soon as you’re sober, alright?” Dean winks at her before setting the glass back on the counter and continues to walk Ash to the back door. “Good night!” He yells before Ash mumbled some curse words and Dean returns back to the bar counter. 

So, Ash is working for him too? She wonders what he’s doing. She should be able to find a night where Ash’s passed out so she could sneak into his room. 

Dean walks to the exit and holds the door open, looking back at her, “You coming?” 

“What.. oh, yeah, yeah.” She loses her apron, grabs her bag from under the sink, switches off the light at the main switch and hurries to Dean.

He steps aside to let her lock up. 

“I’ll walk you to the car,” He says and she can see that Dean has parked right at the front of the bar while she parked it way in the back. 

She finds it a little amusing that he thinks that she needs to be protected. Wonders, what he would think if he knew who she really was.

“You’re not going to drive, are you?” She asks as they arrive at her car, and she can’t believe why she asked, why she even cares.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about that.” He’s grinning, amused that she’s worried. 

“I mean, I could drive you, just tell me where.” 

Dean huffs out a laugh, “If I tell you where I live, I’d have to kill you.” 

“Oh.” 

He flinches, thinking she didn’t get the joke but she did. She’s just bummed that he won’t let her find out where he really lives because that would make her stay here so much shorter, it would be over so quick and she partly doesn’t really know if she’d want that. 

“I’m joking, it’s a joke, you know… if I tell you I have to kill you? You get it?” He tries to explain and she laughs, because yeah, she has to, hopes he doesn’t notice that it’s somewhat fake. 

“Anyway, thanks.” She says and unlocks her car.

Dean’s still standing there. Unmoved. It’s as if he wants to say something. She waits but when Dean doesn’t make an effort of saying anything, she opens the door to her car. 

“Y/N?” 

“Yeah?” She has to hold back her grin. 

“Sam, my brother, is having a party. He’s opening his own law firm and I don’t even know if you have dresses or if you’d be interested but,” Y/N can see him taking a deep breath, as if it’s really hard for him to say those things, “I was wondering if you would want to come?”

“Uh.. I don’t know? Um...yeah, why not?” 

“Great,” He smiles so bright and wide and his chest heaves, as he stands just a little straighter, “I’ll let you know the details as soon as he figures it out.” 

“Like, do I really need to wear a dress?” She asks, because she hasn’t worn a dress in years and she doesn’t even know if the ones she has would still fit her. 

“Don’t worry about that,” He grins and it’s that cocky grin again. Something she can’t really read. It’s as if he’s planning something but she doesn’t quite know what, “Right, I don’t wanna hold you up from your shower.”

Dean steps back, and Y/N nods as she gets into the car. He waits for her to settle, his hand on the door of her car. 

“I just wanna add that you’ve brightened up my night, Y/N. Thanks for that.” There’s a smile on the corner of his lips when he closes the car door for her.

CH.04

[mingisanshine]

Ateez As Boyfriends: Jeong Yunho Edition (M)

(not my gif credit to creator)

(It is literally impossible to hate Yunho. Like if you aren’t at least somewhat whipped for this man then I’m concerned for your well being.)

Ateez Boyfriend List.

Ahhh Yunho

The most boyfriend member in ateez

I might have combusted a total of A MILLION TIMES

He’s just so perfect

Anywhooo

When you two first met you found yourself infatuated with his humor

He just lit up the entire room with his smile

And when he laid eyes on you he immediately was whipped

Your laugh

Your smile

Your sense of humor

Yup you both were whipped for each other

Of course it was obvious, but Yunho

Being the sweetheart we all know he is

Would want to get to know you so much more

There would be constant hanging out

Hours spent just laughing with each other

And being completely infatuated

At one point it would seemed as if you two were already dating

Which is why he eventually had to ask you out

“Do you know if Y/N is seeing someone?”

Yunho almost choked on his water

“Why’d you ask Lucas?”

“I think she’s cute. I dunno.”

Cute?

Cute?!!

Yunho almost went on a rampage.

“Uh, no she isn’t seeing anyone.”

Fuck!

Why did he say that?

“Oh. Great! Do-”

“Maybe we should get back to dancing.”

Lucas nodded, smiling wide.

Causing Yunho to want to scream

It wasn’t uncommon for you to visit Yunho in the studio

You two had spent a lot of time in there and it kind of became a second hang out spot for the two of you

So seeing Yunho dancing wasn’t anything uncommon

But seeing him dance with this much passion made you want to pass the fuck out

His face was almost stern

his typical beagle like smile was no where to found

“Y/N?”

You shake your head only to met with Lucas’s eyes

“What are you doing here?”

You look over Yunho only to see him watching you two as he continued his movement

“I was here to see Yunho.”

You feel a shiver go down your spine when he squints his eyes in what seemed to be annoyance

“You’re not here to see me?” Lucas pouts

“She did just say she is for me.”

Yunho turned off the music and you here him sigh

“Yeah. I guess she did huh?”

“Hey Yunho. Think you can give us a minute?”

You stare at Lucas in confusion and then back Yunho

Who by the way was

LIVID

“Sure. I’ll be outside.” He grumbled before walking out

“Lucas do you what’s wrong with Yunho? He never acts like this. I’m worried.”

“Y/N-”

“Did I do something?”

“Y/N!”

“What?” you jump at his tone.

“I’m trying to tell you something.”

“Is about Yunho?”

Lucas rolls his eyes and sighs

“From the way you talk about him you almost make it sound like you like him.”

You immediately blush

Looking away

“Holy shit. You like Yunho!?”

“Shut up!”

You blush harder and cover Lucas’s mouth

“Yes. Okay! I like him.”

“You like me?”

You whip around to see Yunho holding the door open and shocked look on his face

“Fuck.”

“You actually like me?”

“How much of that-”

“I’ve been ease dropping this entire time.”

“You like me?”

“Yes! But it’s not nic-”

You’re cut off when Yunho places his lips on yours

His hand gently pulling your face close to his

And the other resting on the small of your back

You hands are still in mid air

Before falling and grabbing onto Yunho’s bare arms

Only whimpering slightly when he pressed into you just a tad bit harder

Eventually you both had to break away for air

You just stare at each other in shock

“This is awkward.”

And you both are aware that Lucas was still in the room

You turn and blush harder if that was even possible

“Um sorry about that Lucas.”

“No big deal.”

He walked out and you raise eyebrow at his colder tone

“What’s h-”

You’re cut off again when Yunho kisses you again

You forget what you were going to say

when he pulls away

it’s like his normal smile

went

x100

and you lose your breath for the second time in the last three minutes

“Y/N I like you too and I have for a really long time.”

Now it’s your turn to be like:

:) :) :) :) :)

“So would you like to be my girl?”

You almost snort at his cheesiness

but your blushing slightly at the thought of being his girl

“Yes!”

You may or may not have squeaked that out

Anwhoooo

Dating Yunho is literally a dream come true

Like someone pinch me because this can’t be real

He is literally the definition of boyfriend material

Y’all would go on the cutest dates

Like ever

Amusement park dates: yup

Bowling date: yup

Art gallery: yup

Concerts: yup

especially if they’re ateez concerts

Going to the gas station at one in the morning to get a whole bunch of junk food because you two decided to binge watch the all the avengers movies and making a big ruckus: yup

You two would definitely be the absolute cutest couple ever

He would definitely teach you his dance routines

Finding it cute when you mimicked his moves

He liked the way you looked and also it gave him a good reason to touch you

Which always loved to do

But it was something about being in the practice room and having you in it that just amplified his own thoughts

“Yunho are going to keep staring at me or are you going to teach me the move?”

He shakes his head

You just looked really good in your tights

Ever since he had started teaching you moves your thighs had been starting to fill out and he just found himself wanting nothing then to..

“Yunho!”

“Right! Sorry.”

He cleared his throat trying to keep the blood from rushing any further south than it already was

“So you’re going to kick your leg out and-”

You followed his movements slowly

And Yunho found himself slowly becoming more turned on by the minute

“Was that good Yunho?”

“Yeah! Yeah-”

He shook his head and looked straight in the mirror

Trying to avoid looking at you at all cost

And sparing you from the sexual energy

But you already felt it

You roll your eyes deciding to slightly entertain his issue

“Want to run it fully?

Yunho nods and plays the music

And you give it your all

Everything on the dance floor

(i just got done watching flash dance)

Yunho found himself getting lost in your movements

Stopping completely when he met your eyes through the mirror

As the song ended your moves came to hault

And you never broke eye contact with Yunho

“You okay?”

Without out even thinking Yunho pushed against the mirror

Pressing into you from behind

“You’re such a fucking tease.”

You slightly smile against the cool mirror

Trying to turn around, your pressed straight into the mirror

“Yunho” you whine

“You’re gonna watch, just like you made me.”

Yunho has you tightly presses against the mirror

Causing the bump that his dick normally produced to press back into you and driving you insane

Your right leg is lifted, thigh in his hand

You’re entire body is in shock at Yunho’s ruthless pace

And you’re a blubbering mess

“Fuck! Yunho!”

“Look at me Y/N.” He practically growled

You open your eyes and you let out a loud moan

He looked like sin

His lips were swollen from biting them so much

Hair stuck to his glistening skin

His eyes looked almost three shades darker

And you felt a shiver go down your spin

You practically lurch forward when he thrust into you and hit that one spot

“Oh-fuck!”

“Was that the spot baby?”

When you’re silent he hits again and you let out a yelp

“Y-yes, oh my god.”

You clench around him and Yunho slumps forward

“Fuck, baby-” He began his brutal assault once again

Not once breaking eye contact with you

“Yunho! I’m gonna- fuck. I’m gonna cum!”

“Then do it.” He mumbled in your ear

And you’re practically shaking when your orgasm hits

“Nnng-Y/N. Fuck!”

You open your eyes

And you see Yunho’s eyes rolled back

And jaw clenched in pleasure

You two stood there breathing heavily and enjoying the last few waves of the orgasm

“I didn’t think you had that in you?” You mumble against the mirror

And Yunho laughs pulling out of you

Causing you to almost trip from the lack of support

“Hey Hey. I got you.”

You’re baffled at his change

“And I’ve been wanting to fuck you in here for sometime now.” He said nonchalantly

Leaving your mouth hanging open

Tbh honest everything about Yunho is shocking

But what else can you expect from your amazingly perfect boyfriend

Seriously it’s almost like he was ripped from a fanfiction

The members get sick of how cuddly you two are

And how even in public he’s always holding you

Grabbing your hand

Giving you small kisses

Hugging you from behind

He’s just a PDA type of person

It’s not overly excessive

partly because it’s so normal

but because he doesn’t want to smuggle you

He does get a little jealous

but not like a Seonghwa jealous

but not like a Mingi jealous either

He’s mix between pouting and anger

pounger?

He just loses his happy virus energy

And it’s really noticeable

The entire mood will shift into a borning one

“Mingi I really like your earrings.”

“Really? Thank. I was coming over to tell you I like your watch.”

Then you and Mingi proceeded too talk about clothes and fashion for the next half hour

Before you noticed how quiet it got

The rest of the boys looked extremely uncomfortable/bored

As Yunho sat there with the most non-Yunho expression

ever

Then you realized why he must have been upset

“One sec Mingi.”

You flick his shoulder causing him to look up

Before he could even process anything you give him a small kiss

pulling away you see his face puzzled

“I love you. Now stop sulking you dork.”

And you kind of realized you may have accidentally said you loved him

but it cheered him up because he was smiling like a kid in a candy store

He’s immediately grabbing your hand and yelling out the door

Yelling I love you all the way out the door

Frickin weirdo

Overall y’all are just the softest couple ever

Like uwu (i hate that word sm istg..)

And Yunho is like the dream boyfriend

Always being gentle and listening

Being there to cheer you up

And to make you laugh

He’s just so perfect

You all better love Yunho or else I’ll break your kneecaps

He’s literally the dream guy

I just love him so much

[slothgiirl]

shadowplay part 11

"Well I'm pooped," Breana announces as Matt pulls in to Monterey bay.

 It had barely been what felt like ten minutes since you'd gotten back inside after Breana's mini photoshoot at a bridge, which had been pretty enough, but you felt like a selfie had been enough. Six hours of doing nothing but sitting had not been fun. 

Zack had turned out to be easy to talk to, excitedly pointing put landmarks and cities as you passed, and trying to get Matt, after they had switched driving positions, and failing to get him to pull over at every point of interests. "But its a danish town," he'd cried, smacking the headrest much too Miles' amusement. "We've got to go there."

"You've been to Denmark," Matt had replied undeterred, even as Breana mentioned it would be cute too stop there. "I want to get there before dark," Matt had countered, unmoved, the car rolling on by. 

There was lots of trees and ocean to see. Lots of California to take in that wasn't just the hollywood sign, as much fun as that had been. 

You were much more interested in exploring with the time you had then documenting it in flawless social media bound pictures, though that might have been because you weren't all that photogenic. You had no clue which was your more flattering side. 

When Matt had tired of taking pictures of Breana, she'd roped you in which you had to take for a good sign. After all, you were going to spend a week with these people and you couldn't spend that entire time hiding in whatever room you got. 

"We should go to the aquarium," Zack immediately proposes as you all get out of the car, before explaining to you, "it's supposed to be world famous."

You shrug, "I'm never not okay with an aquarium. . ."

"An aquarium is an aquarium," Miles quips back, shaking his head, and stretching out right next to the car. "How special can it be?"

"Guess we just have to go check it out," Zack smiles hopefully. 

"No. I've already made an itinerary," Breana says, shutting down all his ideas, "We're going to go eat at Cannery Row and get some pictures before finishing the drive.  

"And who gave you that right," Miles says teases archly, his brow rising to his hairline. 

She rolls her eyes, "I made a groupchat and you assholes never said anything. Not my fault." She carefully fixes the audrey hepburn-esque scarf around her hair in the car's window, attaining that effort-effortless windswept look. 

"Why don't we," Alex offers casually, as he lights up a cigarette, having , "just split up? Meet back here in an hour or two?" 

It's a fantastic idea as far as you're concerned. And alright, you won't lie, while your claim to Alex is as solid as your fake relationship is real, you've gotten used to having him to yourself. To having him over at your flat or going out for a drink or food, or walking around the park in the rain, all of his attention on you. That and you can't help but feel like the odd one out here. 

All your past boyfriends have been friends of friends or close friends where it wasn't this awkward to suddenly be hanging out with their friends. 

Maybe that was just adulthood. 

Your circle of friends was much smaller now than it had been in trade school or even back in college when you could always rely on having known someone, even if you weren't close, since you'd started attending school. 

Zack throws an arm around Miles, grinning widely, "the aquarium was name checked in Finding Nemo." 

Miles shakes his head, chuckling, as he takes Alex's cigarette as his own, "you've got to find yourself a girl mate! You're starting to take your friends out on dates."

"Easier said than done," Zack comments, his features taking on a somber cast. 

"Two hours," Breana asks even as she stares everyone down, forcing them to comply, a woman with a plan. 

"Sure," Zack answers, already pulling up an uber on his phone. Reflexively, you look over at Alex, assuming you're going where ever he goes. It would be strange if you didn't go with him, your supposed boyfriend, wouldn't it? 

Only to meet his gaze, already on you, a tint of red on his cheeks as he smiles softly. 

You smile back. 

"Two hours Kane," Breana shouts as she and Matt walk off. 

"Al's way more likely to forget," Miles calls back.

Instead of responding Alex, cups you cheek, kissing your lips softly. You don't mind at all, readily kissing him back. There's only a hint of smoke on his tongue. 

"Any place in particular," you ask him, the first to pull away, all to aware of his touch as he holds your hand. 

"I've got a place in mind," he admits, "unless you've-."

"I didn't google a thing."

"Ya don't mind walking love?"

"All the better to take in the sight," you point out, glancing around the car park. The beach was right there. Only a couple hundred meters away. Painted houses on stilts coloring the view. "So where are we going?"

"A park," Alex tells you, as you find the walkway, only semi covered in sand and oh well, there go your loafers. Though you have had these forever so maybe this'll be a good thing. Get a pair of those ridiculously expensive and ridiculously cute miu miu ballet flats. "Well, sort of a park. It's also a beach."

"A really nice beach," you question, looking over at all the beach that currently surrounds you meaningfully. It would be nice regardless you were sure of it. Spending time with Alex was always a win in your book. Even if lately it left you way more flustered than you would have liked. 

"I 'fink all beaches in California are extremely nice," Alex says even as a pout forms on his lips, a tell-tale sign that he was sinking deep into his thoughts. "It's the sun. . .hard to be disappointed if the day's nice. . .. ya know?"

You laugh easily, "I'll give you that. But can we walk by the water. I didn't fly all this way to not get my feet wet."

"We can do that."

So loafers in hand you trudge through the sand, that makes its way into all creases of your jeans, glad to be stretching out your legs. Alex pops his sunglasses on, sunglasses you hadn't even thought to pack. 

You were pretty sure you didn't even have a pair of sunnies, in the perpetual habit of getting a cheap pair for a hol, or during the summer, sure you were going to use them, and inevitably losing them in a hotel or taxi. 

"So Matt and Breana?" You have to ask. 

You've been to their house but you still can't picture them together. Matt seems like every other lad you've ever met at a pub. Breana was. . .californian in the way you'd imagined people here to be like which wasn't a bad thing, now that she was beginning to talk to you. Then again, maybe being careful just came with being famous. 

"Have been together for a long time now," Alex tells you, careful to keep his boots dry as you let the cold water soak your feet. The bottoms of your jeans now wet. 

"Well," you utter, hoping to get a laugh out of Alex, "Some men do get pegged."

Alex snorts. "she certainly keeps Matthew in line."

"Don't you ever get lonely," you wonder, "if all your friends live out here? I mean, not that I have loads and loads of friends, or go out all that much, but just knowing I could text them and see them is nice."

"I've got you don't I," he points out, as the waves rush out, leaving behind uncovered shells and rocks. 

The water is warmer than any English beach, or maybe you've got rose coloured glasses on, being a tourist and all. 

You blush, "you know what I mean! I'm no Miles." 

As much as you loved Sam, who'd kept texting you as if you could reply immediately and didn't have to wait to steal wifi from a Starbucks or some other free wifi establishment, you'd go crazy if she was your only friend. You needed friends like James, that while as dorky as you, was much more out going, and willing to wake up with you at dawn for a sample sale.

 And you were sure Sam needed friends who also loved to go out as much as she did. 

"And you have no idea how glad I am," he grins, "dunno if there's enough room for two Miles' in the world."

"Ah so he's the Mick Jagger to your Paul McCartney."

Alex lets go of your hand, placing it over his heart dramatically, "are you calling me boring love!"

"Don't be so sensitive," you cry out, kicking water at him ruthlessly, "it's a compliment. I love when you come over so we can both sit in silence and not talk while reading. Just the best."

"I can't tell if your being sarcastic," he says with a shake of his head. It had been the same ruthless joking as he'd gotten ready this morning. You'd watched him use up so much gel and pomade and couldn't stop laughing. Alex had taken much longer to get ready. 

Your heart aches as you lean over, kissing him for once because sooner or later you'd have to initiate wouldn't you? To sell the act. It would look strange if Alex was the only one who went about kissing you. At least you told yourself, a rush of heat burning your cheeks as your lips meet his. "I really do enjoy it," you admit, pulling away much too quickly for your satisfaction. 

You'd be lying if you said you didn't want to kiss him properly, the very scent of him imprinted in your mind, probably from all the times he'd stayed over at yours. Coffee, the sharp smell of high quality leather, and smooth musk. "I think you're the only person I don't mind going to the pub with."

"Oh don't mind," Alex notes, not missing a beat or a the subtext, "how generous."

"I know. I know," you laugh, wondering when he'll hold your hand again. There's no need, since his friends are in some other part of the city. No need to pretend. But then again, there was no need to kiss him either. "I'm the only British person to hate beer." 

You know you've arrive when Alex suddenly stops, looking around pensively. It looks like the rest of the beach you've just walked through. Only with a car park and more green. Houses ringing the area. Some people were lucky enough to have the beach steps from their homes. 

"It's 'spposed to be a park," Alex finally explains, "cause you love parks. Even when it rains."

"Maybe Californians," you joke, slipping your hand through his arm, patting his shoulder gently, "are confused about what a park is. And you sort of have to go when it rains. It's practical. I'm not waiting for the four days of the year when it doesn't rain in London." 

It was so thoughtful of Alex to spend your meager amount of time in Monterey somewhere he'd thought you'd like. It was that thoughtfully romantic streak that ran through all of his actions, regardless of if you were actually dating. 

The same streak responsible for Alex remembering which curry you got at every indian place. That had him remembering where you stored the spare blankets in the morning when he was folding them up as you hurried to make it to work. 

He was a great friend. 

You couldn't imagine how he was with an actual girlfriend. 

" 's nice," he admits, taking out a cigarette, "walking through a park in the rain. Makes me appreciate the rain. . .Long as it isn't full on storming."

"There's a sweet spot," you concur. "I don't think even I could manage a full on storm. I'm not Jane Eyre."

You take a seat on some large rocks, taking in the scenery. Watching people go by on bikes, running with their phone in hand, or simple strolling about. It really is a lovely beach. 

The whole place is lovely. you're glad you walked. 

A dutiful tourist, you take out your phone to take pictures. To remember the place and to appease Sam and James who you're sure will interrogate you as soon as you get back home. You can't help but laugh as you note how relaxed everyone's style here is, lots of loose and cropped clothes, compared to Alex's getup. 

Shamelessly, you take a picture. 

"Always taking the piss outta me," he shakes his head, gaze never straying far from yours. 

"You make it so easy." 

Alex surprises you entirely by asking an older man walking his large dog, tail waggling, to take a picture of the two of you. Saying girlfriend needlessly, butterflies in your stomach at his words. 

It's dumb. It makes you feel dumb, and you never want this to end. This slice in time, where it's you and Alex and you can loose yourself in the idea of him actually being your boyfriend as ridiculous as that is. 

None of the pictures are flattering. The light harsh in the noon sun. Alex is looking over at you in all the pictures instead of the camera and you are grasping at straws for that to mean something.

 Fuck. You're not going to make it through the week. Sam was right and you hate her for it. 

You don't think that you can remain friends if you don't air out your feelings for him. 

But then again, maybe that would ruin everything. You can only hope that the feelings will go away soon. 

Highly doubtful. 

"Want to take an uber and get food," Alex asks because you only have an hour left. You could spend a whole week here. With a towel, bathing suit, and a pile of books. Easily. 

"I've been in the states for twenty four hours and haven't had Mcdonalds yet," you tell him. 

"Mcdonalds is for when its 3 am and your pissed love."

"Sushi." You raise a brow. 

"I can do sushi."

You laugh, "what an enormous sacrifice Alexander."

[gabriel-agreste-has-no-rights]

Rating:  T

Chapter Summary:   Luka doesn’t miss XY.  That would be stupid.  For @luxyweek prompt “Eye Contact” (with a little bit of style swap peppered in)

Word Count: 2404 | 3/4

XXX

Luka stared deep into XY’s eyes.  Well, the photograph’s eyes, from the back of the CD he held in his hands.  Of course he couldn’t escape the pop star here, in the middle of his favorite music store.  But he hadn’t needed to go directly to the end of the aisle and pick up the Number One album.

Ironic.  He said he couldn’t escape him, yet XY hadn’t crashed the Liberty in a week.  Since the sleepover at Nino’s house.  Had he just gotten his inspiration and left?

He’d kept Luka’s hoodie.  Luka had forgotten to demand it back when XY had woken up and rushed out of the apartment, yelping something about his dad.

“You owe me,” Luka said to the album.  XY’s melody had been beating under Luka’s skin for the last seven days.  “You can’t just take my favorite hoodie and disappear.”

Luka didn’t even have his phone number.  It was a stupid oversight, but he wasn’t used to having his own friends.  If he needed a number, he usually asked Juleka.

Nino said he hadn’t come back, which was strange.  XY always wanted attention; Luka had figured that if he wasn’t trying to leap onto the Liberty, he’d be at the other boy’s apartment.  What had happened to his original song?  Had he given up on it?

Had he actually stolen Nino’s music instead, like Luka had feared?  Was the guilt keeping him away?  Or did he just decide he had better things to do?  

Maybe he’d even left Paris by now.  He’d never mentioned how long he’d be staying.

Luka shook his head.  He didn’t know, and staring at XY’s Number One album wasn’t going to give him any answers.

His eyes glanced down to the price tag.  Not too expensive, but he still wouldn’t pay for it.  XY had probably stolen all those songs.  It would be wrong to give him and Bob Roth money for it.

So when he got home, he cracked open his laptop and pirated the album.

A few of the songs he recognized, probably from supermarket speakers or TV commercials.  Most were unfamiliar though, except in how they mimicked each other.  It was like XY only had one setting: repetitive pop beats.  His tracks barely even had lyrics to differentiate them from each other.  Along the Beach with You had the addition of waves and seagull calls.  Urban Night was so autotuned he could barely make out the words.  Was that even XY’s voice?  It didn’t sound nasally enough.

Luka was just about to give up listening to the album when I Miss You started.  Soft, not as energetic as the other tracks.  He strained to hear the words.

I’m going crazy for you

I’m lost, where can I find you?

You’ve got my heart torn in two

Please, I just miss you

Nothing unique.  Lazy, even; he used “you” in three of the four rhymes.  

Luka hated that it sparked something in him, something that his guitar still hadn’t been able to untangle.

His own music wasn’t helping.  XY’s music wasn’t helping.  Staring at his face wasn’t helping.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he sighed as he strapped his guitar across his back.

Then he crept above deck, rolled out his bike, and pedaled off towards the Grand Paris Hotel.

XXX

XY paced across his hotel room as the song was exporting, the loading bar slowly, slowly filling up.  Why did it take so long?  Making the song had already taken way more time than he expected.  He hadn’t gotten to see Lu in days.  What if Lu forgot all about him?  A few times he’d thought about going back to that dumpster boat, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist bragging about his new song, and it needed to be a surprise.

He told Lu he was gonna make the most cash money music he’d ever heard.  He hoped this track would be good enough.  It probably wasn’t Lu’s style, but Marmalade hadn’t looked like she was his style either, and he liked her.  He’d thrown a couple of her sewing machine noises into the track for good measure.

“Come on, stupid computer,” he muttered.

The door burst open just as he was thumping the monitor.  His arms pinwheeled before he caught himself on the desk.

“Oh, uh, hey Dad.”  He grinned too wide.  “What brings you here?”

“What?  I can’t see what my own son is up to?”  He laughed loudly, making XY cringe.  “I thought you were out with Andre’s girl again.  You’re too young to be holed up in here.”

XY tried not to groan at the mention of Cole.  She’d already tried to break into his room three times today.  He’d pulled up Lu’s hood and hidden under the legs of his synth each time.  Luckily he’d taken it off while pacing, not wanting to sweat too much in it, or else Dad might’ve asked why he was wearing something so ratty looking.

“I’m just trying to catch up on my music, Dad.”  He rolled his eyes.  

“Ha!  Searching for new tracks to steal?  Proactive of you, I like it.  You’re starting to think like a real star.”

XY’s stomach turned as his dad slung an arm around his shoulder.  He shrugged him off.

He almost told him what he was really doing, but the words dried up in his mouth.  Maybe Lu could spout whatever hippie crap came into his head, but XY couldn’t afford to.

“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered instead.

“Looks like whatever you were downloading finished.  Let’s hear it.”  Dad plopped down into the cushy chair in front of his synth, leaving XY to stand.

“Uh—I dunno, Dad.  It’s not—it’s nothing great, y’know?”

He snorted.  “Look, if you’re gonna steal, you gotta go big or go home.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Let’s just hear it.  I’ll tell you what’s worth ripping off.”  He folded his hands on the desk and waited.

XY didn’t let his nervousness show.  He was a star.  He didn’t get stage fright—okay, usually he wasn’t even on the stage, but still.  

Lu wasn’t scared of standing up to Bob Roth.  The least XY could do was play his own music.

He opened the exported audio file and hit play.

Smooth electronic beats came from the speakers.  Bubbly, upbeat, with an undercurrent of bass.  So far it didn’t sound much different from XY’s old music, the kind he’d made before Dad convinced him to steal instead.

Dad’s eyes narrowed, as if he realized this, but he didn’t say anything yet.  Didn’t say anything for the entire song, even when he heard XY’s lyrics.

Please ignore the lyrics please ignore the lyrics—

His face looked like he'd eaten something nasty.  Like pasta.  “You’ve gotta stop stealing songs from girls, son.  The pronouns are all wrong.”

“Uh, oops.  Forgot to change it.”  His heart fell.  Dad knew why his lyrics were like that, but he wouldn’t even say it out loud.  He’d been stupid to let him hear the song, not that he’d had a choice.  He would’ve finished it at Nino’s if the boy didn’t have to do dumb stuff like “go to school” and “do homework.”

“It’ll never be at the top of the charts, but you can use it to fill up space on your next album, I guess.  You always need a few songs no one will actually listen to.”

XY bit his tongue.  “Pshaw, yeah.  That’s exactly what I stole it for.”

“Keep working, but pick a more mainstream beat next time.  And on second thought, just scrap those lyrics.  They’re clearly ameteur work.  Who puts pigeons in a love song?”

Dad clapped him on the shoulder one last time before turning away, leaving XY numb.

You always need a few songs no one will actually listen to.

Just scrap those lyrics.

Clearly ameteur work...

The extraordinary XY did not cry.  But he might have sniffled a little.

“What are you doing here?  Scram!  I told you, we were just kidding about the record deal!”

XY jolted up, dashing for the door.  He peeked past his dad’s looming figure to see— 

“Lu!”  He grinned before he could help himself.

Lu was standing there, holding a flat cardboard box.  His muscles showed beneath the short sleeves of his Jagged Stone t-shirt.  The best part of stealing his hoodie was that XY got to see his arms.  If only it didn’t also show off his number one rival’s merch.

“What?  Xavier-Yves, did you invite this punk—”

“He ordered a pizza.”  Lu wiggled the box. 

XY frowned.  “Huh?  I didn’t—”

Lu’s eyes narrowed.

“Ohhhh, that pizza!  Pshaw, right.”

Dad still glared down at Lu.  “You better not try any funny business.  Or I’ll have my lawyers on you faster than that pizza grease sticks to your hair.”

Lu smiled pleasantly, a dangerous (and sexy) gleam in his eyes.  “Of course not.  I’m just trying to do my job, sir.”

Dang, he was smart.  And brave.  And hot.

XY tried very hard not to swoon.

“I’ve got to—uh—money!  Cash money.  I owe you.  For the pizza.”

“Well go grab it so this little snake can get out of here,” Dad said with a dismissive wave.

“Lu—uh, he can come in for a minute, right?  It would be pretty unsexy of us to leave him out in the cold.”

“We’re in a hotel, and he’s not some street orphan.”  Dad scrunched his nose.  “Even if he smells like one.”

XY thought Luka smelled amazing, but he wouldn’t admit it in front of Dad.  “Huh?  I can’t hear you, I’m busy thinking about how I’m gonna cheat him out of a tip.”

That made Dad laugh.  “Classic Xavier.  Ruthless instincts, but not that bright.”

With that, he whistled his way out of the room, leaving XY alone with Lu.  

His heart sped up.  Lu was in his room.  Even if he was just there because XY had ordered a pizza.

Wait.  He hadn’t ordered a pizza.

“Did your dad just—did he really just say that?  That was just… wrong.”  Lu glared at the space where Dad had been standing.

“Awww, you care?”  XY asked, leaning into his space.  He smelled like wood and water, probably from spending so much time on that garbage boat.  Or maybe it was just his cologne, but the first option sounded more romantic.

“No,” he snapped.  Huh, he looked a lot more tense now than he’d been even with Dad.

“What’s up, bro?  Marmalade break your heart again?”  he asked hopefully.  

Lu blinked.  He had gorgeous eyes, but he could really use some mascara.  Or at least eyeliner.  XY thought rockers were supposed to be into that kind of stuff.

“Also no.  I just… shut up and give me your phone.”

“Huh?”  His head tilted, but he dug his phone out of his pocket.

Lu grabbed it out of his palm before realizing it was locked.  He sighed.  “Will you open it?  Please?”

“Sure, ’cause you asked nicely.”  XY grinned and swiped his thumb in the “XY” pattern, then tossed it back.  Where this was going?  Was Lu going to take a selfie and set it as his home screen?  That would save XY the trouble of sneaking a photo himself.

Lu set the phone on top of the pizza box, typed furiously for a few seconds, and handed it back.  

XY blinked down at the screen.  Ohhhh, this was even better!  

“You know if you wanted my number, all you had to do was ask.”  XY pursed his lips, but resisted kissing Lu’s cheek again.

“I had no idea what happened to you.  You might’ve left Paris, or… something.”  He crossed his arms.

“So you did miss me.”  His heart raced, though he kept his cool.  He was XY, and Lu was just… the cutest boy he’d ever met.  Who’d missed him.

“I just wanted to make sure you didn’t take Nino’s music and run after all.”

“Pshaw, like I need his beats.  I told you I was gonna make cash money music by myself this time.”  XY rolled his eyes.  He thought Lu believed in him.  

Not that he should.  His music wasn’t good.  Dad didn’t think so, anyway.

“Did you finish it?”  Lu’s eyes widened.  “The song you were making at Nino’s?”

His eyes darted towards his synth and computer.  “Uh… nah, man.  I’ve just been… y’know, kickin’ back.  I can’t stay in your unsexy garbage heap all the time.”

“Just… kickin’ back.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

Lying to Lu felt wrong.  Not like lying to his dad, or even to the paparazzi.  But he wasn’t about to admit that his song had crashed and burned.

And he’d really thought he understood perspiration this time, too.

“I guess I just thought you liked kickin’ back with me,” Lu murmured.

XY’s gut twisted, like he’d eaten a bad plate of mac ’n’ cheese.  “Pshaw, as if.  I was just getting away from Cole, remember?  You were the one who dragged me everywhere.  I didn’t even need your dumb inspiration.  I’m the extraordinary XY.”

He flashed his trademarked hand sign, but really he wanted to slap himself.  Even if it felt wrong, he was good at lying.  Too good.

Hurt flashed across Lu’s face for just a moment.  Then it was gone, and he was shoving the pizza box into XY’s hands.

“Thanks for getting us on the same page.”

Crap, crap, crap.  He wasn’t supposed to make Luka mad.  

“Wait, bruh,” XY called out as Luka stepped out of the room.  “I still didn’t pay you for the pizza!”

Luka rolled his eyes.  “What, you’re not going to cheat me out of that, too?”

XY chewed his lip and looked down at his feet.  He’d never been so embarrassed about cheating before.

“Forget it.  I don’t need money you made by ripping people off, anyway.”

And then Luka was gone, leaving XY with a warm pizza in his arms.  He opened the box, but the smell of fresh cheese just made him nauseous.  The last time he’d eaten a cheese pizza was with him.

Luka was the first person to believe in him, and he’d let him down.  He guessed he shouldn’t be surprised.  It was Luka’s own fault for expecting something more.

He left the pizza by his synth, where it slowly grew cold.