#i had to put it down halfway through my song because i kept blowing it out even though i was holding it like 2 feet away from my head

[monarch-ambrosia]

so i gave my first ever drag performance a couple nights ago and while it was a little bit of a bumpy ride i think the people liked it so,,,,

WELCOME TO THE WORLD NEW BABY ARSENIC GREENE!

CONGRATULATIONS, IT'S A......

.....

technical difficulties, please stand by

[samstree]

For the reverse trope ask: the soft character comforting the tough character after a trauma

Piece Him Back Together

Part of the reverse trope series.

When Geralt gets kidnapped, it's up to Jaskier to rescue him. Some truths about a witcher's worst weakness come to light.

(geraskier, 2.1k, hurt/comfort, geralt whump, mutual pining, competent jaskier, love confession, mild blood)

read on AO3

"Shit, shit, shit..."

Jaskier lets out a string of curses all the while balancing the weight of two fully grown men with stumbling footwork. He desperately tries to keep Geralt up with a hand on the small of his back but fails to stop the injured witcher from drooping with each step, until, at last, both of them wind up in a heap of limbs by the road.

Geralt lets out a pained grunt and Jaskier scrambles with apologies.

“Fuck, sorry.” The bard shifts Geralt’s bulk with all he can muster and finally settles him on a patch of soft moss under the tree. The witcher hisses as his back hits the bark rather heavily. “Shit, I’m so sorr—”

“You already said,” Geralt interrupts him but there’s no anger in his tone.

“Still. I am.”

Jaskier retrieves a handkerchief from his pocket and begins to dab at the mess of blood at Geralt’s temple, wincing when he finally sees how bad the blow is. Blood oozes from the gash, slower than a moment before. The fabric is soaked through and the skin there is still tender.

It’s all witchers’ weakness.

The temple. A blow to the head.

It messes up all their senses and coordination, leaving them in the most vulnerable state. If Jaskier had reached him any later, this might have done Geralt in.

Jaskier lets out a distressed sound at the thought.

“Stop fussing. We need to go.” The witcher, against all odds, remains level-headed.

“No, it’s all right. I knocked out all the guards and servants, along with the duke and his mage.” Jaskier tilts Geralt’s head for a better angle to press the handkerchief down on the wound. “I may have given the two of them a little more than the recommended dose. The lady at the apothecary warned me about the risk of choking with much sleeping potion, urgh, like I give an ounce of fuck if they die a gruesome death or not. It’d be a favor to the town.”

The venom surprises even Jaskier himself, and Geralt lets out a meaningful hum.

“Rest assured, my dear. No one will be looking for us today.”

Up close, Jaskier can feel Geralt scrutinize him intently as if to burn a hole into his face. He meets the amber gaze, the dark pupils still a little blown wide from the shock, but there’s also something akin to relief flowing in those beautiful eyes.

He revels in the silence, observing Geralt in return for further signs of hurt, but finds none.

The witcher relents first, the tiniest smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “So you drugged an entire castle?”

“Didn’t think I had it in me, huh?” Jaskier teases. “The White Wolf, saved by a humble bard and forever impressed by his wit.”

“Hmm.”

“Well, don’t beat yourself up, oh mighty witcher. I’m sure you only needed the rescue because those villains took advantage of your only weakness.” The bard adds his usual dramatic flair into the last two words.

Geralt blinks. Something shifts in his expression, his breathing picking up and his eyes darting everywhere. If the bard didn’t know better, he’d say the witcher is flustered, which makes it all the more confusing.

“Mocking me, are you?” Geralt drops his gaze and tries to shy away, but the bard holds him in place with the other hand. Under Jaskier’s palm, the frame of the witcher’s ear is heating up.

“How am I mocking you? Geralt, even you must admit witchers aren’t all-powerful beings.” Jaskier frowns. “They messed up your head. I know all your senses get muddled when you’re like this. Seriously, it’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“What are you talking about?” the witcher snaps his gaze back to Jaskier, a puzzled crease deep between his brows, which only makes the bard scoff with amusement.

“The head wound, of course. How did they get you? An ambush and a blow to the head, I’m assuming.” Jaskier explains. “How else did you get yourself into a dungeon and dimeritium cuffs? What, are you telling me you walk into their trap voluntarily?”

He rolls his eyes at the offhanded joke but the silence from the witcher leaves the mood heavier. Somehow, it doesn’t feel like a denial of what he just said. Geralt is staring at him with an inexplicable look on his face, and these looks are hard to come by these days. Jaskier prides himself in being the best on the continent at reading his witcher, and he has no inclination to break the streak.

“What happened then? Talk to me, Geralt.”

Jaskier removes the handkerchief a little. The gash has stopped bleeding, so he ties it around Geralt’s head carefully to keep the wound shielded, at least until they can wash it properly. His hands stay with Geralt afterwards, waiting for him to open up.

“I—” Geralt purses his lips before continuing, golden eyes meeting the bard in earnest. “They didn’t ambush me, Jask. I walked into that castle unarmed by choice.”

“What?” Jaskier’s jaw drops.

“It’s because—” the witcher scowls. “Because I thought…that they had you.”

It’s like a lightning strike, where their skin connects tingling all the way from the tips of Jaskier’s fingers to a warm pool of fuzziness in his stomach. The air is suddenly too hot so Jaskier decides to put more space between them.

“Oh.”

Geralt chases him ever so slightly before settling back with resignation, his eyes still bare and vulnerable, as if he just revealed the darkest secret when it is only the sweetest thing in a horrible, horrible way.

“A whisper of you being held hostage and suddenly I couldn’t think. Couldn’t remember to check the truth. Couldn’t waste another second.” Geralt hovers a hand near the bard’s face before retreating to his side. “You were right that they got me because of my one weakness, Jaskier. Just not the one you assumed.”

The pounding in Jaskier’s chest is jumping out of his throat. He’s sure he will die within the next minute if he doesn’t speak to ease this ache in his heart.

“Oh.”

He ends up saying dumbly.

“It was too late when I noticed the absence of you. Your voice, your heartbeat, your scent. Nothing. You weren’t in that castle or the cells. All I could hear was silence and all I could smell was blood.” Geralt draws a shuddering breath. “I hoped, when they kept me in the dark, that they were lying about ever having you. That you were nowhere near that damn place instead of—”

The witcher swallows, unable to finish the sentence.

“Instead of,” Jaskier adds for him, “they’d already killed me.”

The tension hangs between them. The bard sits back on the heels of his feet and finds himself at a loss for words for the very first time in his life.

Geralt might be the only person who can force Jaskier through so many firsts in his life. His first time writing a hit song, first time smashing into someone’s face with a lute, first time saving a witcher’s life, and perhaps, first time murdering two evil overlords obsessed with collecting witchers for experiments.

Hmm, it’s not like Jaskier regrets any of these.

Geralt reaches out again, tentative and patient like he’s approaching a spooked horse. This time, Jaskier takes pity and meets him halfway, his thumb rubbing small circles at the sword callouses that he adores so much.

“Say something,” Geralt pleads.

Jaskier swallows a lump in his throat and sniffles to ease the congestion in his nose, his vision blurring in desperation.

“It’s the most words you’ve said in one sitting, Geralt. You’ll have to allow me a moment to figure out what you are saying and, most importantly, not saying.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “It’s you, you know? There’s always something you are holding back and that is often the crux of it. I thought I got good at reading between the lines, but this is…overwhelming.”

With the enhanced healing kicking in, Geralt is looking much better by the minute. The blood dries and crusts over and his eyes almost shining in the daylight, or is it just the emotions within them? Jaskier can’t tell.

“Maybe I can help you. With the hidden words.” Geralt squeezes Jaskier’s fingers reassuringly. He tilts his head in the most endearing way. It happens to be that particular head tilt that Jaskier treasures with his life, the one that manages to always take his breath away.

“I love you, Jask.”

The warm pool of fuzziness in Jaskier’s stomach turns into a bottomless pit, and he’s falling.

And soaring.

“I love you.” Geralt smiles sadly. “In the dark of that cell, it became…ever so clear and so loud that I couldn’t deny it anymore. I love you, in spite of myself. Gods, I’ve loved you for so long.”

Geralt picks up Jaskier’s hand and places the barest touch of a kiss there, his lips chapped but oh so gentle. Jaskier lets out a soft gasp and the tears roll down uncontrollably. The next thing he knows, he’s buried deep in Geralt’s embrace. The sobs choke in his lungs like a dam has been broken.

“I—” Jaskier is amazed to find that their roles have reversed. The witcher has expressed everything but the bard becomes mute. So he takes up Geralt’s role gladly and replies with actions.

Jaskier’s lips are pressed everywhere he can reach: the soft, warm skin of Geralt’s neck, the sharp of his jaw, his cheek, the tip of his nose. He disregards the grime and dirt and kisses Geralt’s uninjured temple, the single most fragile part of a witcher’s body—barring their heart, so it seems. He tucks away a strand of white hair and kisses Geralt’s temple one more time, tasting the salty tang of tears.

When he pulls back, Geralt’s smile is blinding.

He hears Jaskier, even though—

“I still don’t know what to say,” Jaskier croaks, sniffling hard.

The bard rests his hands at the nape of Geralt’s neck and loses himself in the sunlit golden honey, his favorite color in the world and the most beautiful dream that’s ever come true.

“You don’t have to say anything.” Geralt wipes away the wetness on Jaskier’s face with the pad of his thumb. “Master Jaskier, poet, minstrel, professor… Stumped for words and forever impressed by a witcher’s love confession.”

He mimics Jaskier’s phrasing and the bard can’t help but chuckle despite the tears and snout, his hand swatting at Geralt’s shoulder. Jaskier knows he must look so absurd, laughing and crying all at once, but it’s the last thing in the world that matters.

Geralt loves him, and—

“You got hurt because of me.”

The remorse licks up, along with the urge to protect and to care. The sight of Geralt limp and bloody, bound by the wrists in a dark cell is something Jaskier never wants to relive again.

“I don’t care, Jask.”

“I care.”

“Then make it better.”

So he does. Geralt never wavers as Jaskier captures his lips and pours everything he cannot voice into the kiss, drawing a contented moan out of the witcher.

“Does it still hurt?” the bard whispers between one breath and the next.

“A little.”

Jaskier resumes his work and cards deft fingers through silver hair, careful not to nudge the handkerchief. His nails ghost over Geralt’s scalp and scratches gently until a purring sound rumbles deep in the witcher’s chest. The bard giggles proudly.

“Now?”

“Keep going.”

Geralt traps Jaskier between his strong arms devours him with passion, the heat of his body solid and calming.

Jaskier has never thought of himself as a protector, except at this moment with his witcher arching into his every touch and producing those heavenly sounds. The world is too bent on hurting Geralt, too eager to take and take and take from him.

A bard is not a fighter. Jaskier cannot stop monsters from tearing through armors or crossbows fired with ill intent.

But a bard is a lover. What Jaskier can do is heal, is piece Geralt back together with gentle words in the dark and soft lips on the thin skin at his temple.

“How about now?”

They are panting in tandem, the gold of Geralt’s eyes dreamy and out of this world.

“Still dizzy.”

“That’s from all the kissing, you oaf.”

But Geralt begs wordlessly with those wide, puppy-like eyes so openly, and Jaskier’s already non-existent resolve breaks into a million pieces. He kisses Geralt until the witcher melts into a puddle of purring mess, sun-warmed and pliant.

And he kisses Geralt more.

Again and again.

---

Thanks for the prompt. I kind of just rolled with the concept. The twist looks a bit obvious from the beginning, but feel free to tell me what you think. <3

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @dapandapod @artisanbaguette @birdsflyhome

Please tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

[kichous]

✧･ﾟ:*   our proper distance

summary. if sukuna notices the life growing within you, separated only by your flesh as he lays his head in your lap, he says nothing. series. history lesson. bonus scene ! pairing. ryomen sukuna x f!reader. warnings. mentions of miscarriages. childbirth. word count. 2922.

You spend every day waiting for the other shoe to drop. You had already asked much of him in keeping this liaison secret. That he was willing to compromise for you was a miracle in and of itself. You do not mistake his generosity for kindness. You are well aware that your safety and well-being relies on his good will.

You have been Ryomen Sukuna’s mistress for four years. You have been his lover for roughly half of your sons’ lifetimes, and you have shouldered this secret alone for four years out of fear for their safety. And although the King of Curses, whose power has only grown since he bested your father in combat, is known to sorcerers as cruel and greedy, he cares in some way for the lives of your children. He would not hold his tongue otherwise.

Twins are a bad omen because of Sukuna, after all.

For someone whose followers regularly burn your families’ crests, Sukuna goes to greater lengths than he needs to in order to protect you. You’re still amazed that he even wants to defend you at all. He is not exactly wanting for bedmates — and you have to admit that despite the inhumanity of his form, he is still just as handsome as he was when he bore the name Shun. You do not dare to believe that you are someone special to him. You do not dare to hope.

He comes to you under the cover of night, and you learn to recognize his silhouette in front of the screen door when the moon is at its highest. You light a lantern by your door when your husband is with his other wives, though Sukuna still comes even when it isn’t there. Some nights he is content to lounge with you. His predisposition to getting his hair stroked is exceedingly feline.

That isn’t to say that he doesn’t lay with you. Such intimacy was how your relationship started, after all. From your first time in the fields beyond your father’s walls, to when he presses you into the futon in your husband’s home, Sukuna is no stranger to any inch, any measure of your body. You have come to know his as well, tracking every change with every moon. You are certain you are more familiar with him than he is with you, however, as you have never seen fit to tell them about the children.

Or, rather, the children that never came to be.

Over the years, there have been ten. Each one, you have hidden from the King of Curses. Your husband is not subject to such deceit. If anything, your infertility works in your favor. He does not come to see you as often anymore, unhappy as he is with the fact that you’ve yet to bear him any heirs besides Michimaru and Takechiyo. It gives you more time to spend with your sons — and more time with Sukuna, who does not seem particularly bothered that you have not granted him children either, despite the many times you have been together.

You wonder if you mistake his satisfaction for indifference. Perhaps he does not want the hindrance of children in his grand ambitions. He is not the most fatherly of men — although, thinking about it, you suppose you do not know any good fathers in the first place. 

Sukuna’s warmongering is the last thing you would wish to subject a child to, and your sons are already afraid enough of him as it is. Your family does a good job at spreading fear and panic where Sukuna is concerned. You haven’t yet told the boys that they had already met him when he was just a man.

Regardless of his intentions, there was never anything to truly fear, as none of his seed ever took — that is, until this last moon.

You were so certain that it was impossible, that perhaps someone had cursed you. You had proved fertile enough not long after your marriage. It was strange to think that you would bear twins and nothing more. Spending the better part of your life valued only for your womb, your failure to produce more children was met with plenty of speculation, both by yourself and your immediate family. Sukuna, conversely, asked nothing of you but your company. You took solace in that fact, pitiable as it may seem.

And so, when he comes to you on a new moon, his eyes sparkling with mirth as he steps into your quarters, you are at a loss. He notices it too, as he remarks that you look like a trembling doe. It’s not the most flattering creature to be compared to, but you smile indulgently at him nonetheless. When you gesture for him to sit with you, he lays his head in your lap as always.

It is routine — you start by combing his hair away from his face, your hand tracing the familiar curve of his skull as you rub soothing circles into his scalp with the pads of your fingers. Sukuna’s eyes flutter shut at your motion, and your other hand wraps around his face to stroke his jaw. You could almost swear that he starts to purr, though you’re certain he would put you to death for ever suggesting it. At this angle, he is worryingly close to your unborn child. He says nothing to indicate that he knows of its presence.

“You look tired,” you murmur. “I could have Kinu bring us some tea, if you like.”

Sukuna lifts a hand. “Don’t bother. Just keep doing what you’re doing.” He exhales as you massage his temples. “Yes, just like that.”

“I insist.” He’s horrible to deal with when he’s cranky and you’re not in the mood. When you do not let him bruise your wrists, your hips, or your thighs, he turns to cutting words instead. He hasn’t shown any signs of displeasure yet, but you know that he is nothing if not unpredictable. It never hurts to be proactive. “Whatever you want.”

“Fine,” hums Sukuna, one of his lower eyes cracking open. “Fennel.”

Thoughtlessly, your smile drops. He notices, as the other three eyes are suddenly peering at you with suspicion.

Your servants don’t know of Sukuna — at least, that is what you are content to believe. If they have any idea that you have a lover, they say nothing to your husband and they say nothing to you. You do not want to know of their suspicions, of the knowledge that they may hold over you. You cannot spend every day looking over your shoulder from those you spend nearly every waking moment with.

But of your current predicament, they know every detail. Everything to do with your monthly blood, with the miscarriages, to the morning sickness, they’ve cleaned it all. And in doing so, you like to believe that they feel some loyalty to you. It helps you sleep at night. And because they know of the happenings of your body, they know that asking for fennel tea is asking for more blood to clean from your sheets. Infinitely more difficult than vomit, you suspect.

“Do you take issue with my choice?”

You blink, remembering yourself. Shaking your head, you try to move back, only to be pinned by the weight of Sukuna’s torso. You could shove him off, but that wouldn’t end well for anyone. “It’s fine, I just… remembered that we have run out of fennel tea, that is all.” You smile at him, and you notice through your mirror that it is too wan to seem genuine. Your heart sinks as the skepticism remains in his gaze.

“You are distressed,” Sukuna says plainly. “What have you done?”

You furrow your brows. What have you done to me? you wish to ask. You do not. “Nothing,” you hiss instead. Your scandalized tone amuses him; you can tell by the curve of his lips. He’s going to push you more. You place a hand over his mouth before he can, then yelp as he swipes his tongue across your palm. You wipe it on his kimono. “You’re disgusting. Who knows what I’ve touched?”

“It better not have been anything foul or I’ll sever these pretty hands myself.” Sukuna says the words so sweetly, they leave his lips like a song.

You run your fingers through his hair again in reply, and he chuckles.

“All right, I suppose I’ll spare you for now.” He tilts his chin up to meet you halfway when you lean down and kiss him, nibbling on your lower lip. He chases after you when you part, and he wraps a hand around the back of your head to pull you in again. “I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”

“I think I should be the one saying that about you.”

Sukuna relaxes in your lap once again, contentment flitting across his face. “That was a valiant effort at sidestepping my question, and for that, I shall reward you with leniency.” 

There’s always some sense of serenity around him, even in the midst of carnage and peace alike. Like he belongs in this world, a curse that will never, ever, leave. He is tranquil in the midst of the chaos he sows — a figure of balance. That is how the commoners who champion him refer to the Two-Faced Spectre. You envy his level of self-satisfaction. Were that all the world felt as confident and assured as Sukuna, there would be a great deal less bloodshed, you think.

Rather — knowing mortals as they are, there would be infinitely more. But Sukuna would like that, you suppose.

He interrupts your contemplation by taking your hand and sliding it over his hair again. “Did I say that you could stop?”

No. He most certainly did not. With a weary chuckle, you appease him, and he takes your other hand to press a kiss into your palm. The two of you settle in silence until the candles wind down, and when they no longer provide adequate light, you lean over to blow them out and invite Sukuna to lay with you. He reads in your expression that your only intention is to sleep, and without protest, he climbs into the futon alongside you. He takes up most of it, though you are used to that.

Sukuna lies on one side. Given the excessive amount of limbs, you doubt that the position is very comfortable. He was steps and a couple of drinks away from conjuring himself a tail, though, so you suppose that most of the reason that Sukuna doesn’t sleep is because of the discomfort. Nevertheless, he likes to hold you when you sleep, his arms like a cage. As you settle into his embrace, you find that it is tighter than usual. You fold your hands over your stomach, pressing your back into his chest.

One of his hands rests on your shoulder, while his other arm on the same side winds around your waist. He lays that hand on top of yours. Though he isn’t pressing very hard, you feel every point of his nails like the tip of a blade against your belly. You roll over so that the pin-pricks are against the flesh of your back. As you tilt your head up to meet his gaze, you’re marveled by how… familial the embrace is.

Mother and father on either side, and the child sleeping soundly in the middle. It is a fool’s dream to ever think it could become a reality. But the thought still lingers in your mind — what if?

Would he run away with you? Abandon everything he’s ever worked for to raise your child (children, possibly) in obscurity. A fisherman like his father, who abandoned him as a child to be taken in by your family, ostensibly to give him a better life. You’d be a… gods, what could you do? Weave, perhaps? Something useful, at least. To show that you were not the spoiled little girl he always made you out to be.

And would your child be a sorcerer? Would they be a simpleton, like you, or would they be as powerful and fearsome as their father? Would ambition consume them, just as it had the man you loved?

Alas, you are a fool to even dream it. The four-armed could-be fisherman traces a finger along your neck, a brow arched.

“Is my face truly so mesmerizing?” he whispers, eyes sparkling. The mirth dissipates when you don’t react, and he instead leans away from you and props himself up on his lower elbow. He watches you not as one would a lover, but the way a hunter stalks its prey — like he’s waiting for any misstep he could leap upon. “All right, come out with it.”

“What?” The word doesn’t sound convincing, even to yourself. Your failure at duplicity causes both disappointment and disdain to war upon Sukuna’s face. Quickly, you lift your hands to appease him. “I’ve just been feeling a little tired these days is all. I’ve already sent for a healer, surely they can figure out what’s wrong with me.”

“Is there any better healer in the province than yourself?” he scoffs. You are not sure whether to be flattered by the praise, spoken with venom, or not. “If there were anyone with a greater grasp on reverse cursed technique they may very well be a god.”

You stroke his jaw tenderly with the backs of your fingers, rubbing a thumb across his cheek. “Not every malady can be healed by my power,” you remind him. To be fair, you did actually call for a second opinion. You could simply be suffering through some foodborne illness — but you know your body best, and you know now that there is something dwelling within it. You have called for a midwife, just to make sure. “I will be fine.”

“I don’t like seeing you upset.” Sukuna’s lips form a scowl. “Tell me what to do to make it stop.”

His words give you pause, an incredulous laugh nearly bubbling out of you. You subdue yourself, but the wonder is still there. You tuck yourself into him to hide your mirth.

Is this the closest you’ll ever get to genuine romance from him? You know that you can never tell him anything. And while you’d think yourself a monster if he was anyone else, you know the child will be safer if they had never known of Sukuna at all.

How on earth would you tell the child their father was a beast? You could lie to them, pretend that your husband was the one that sired them. You could never tell them at all, and leave it until their adulthood before they found the truth. Then you would be no better than the family you tried to escape.

You had always thought yourself a decent mother, fair and loving. But a child of Sukuna could never know a world of peace, and with how irrevocably you have become intertwined with him, you could not give the child the peaceful, happy life it deserved.

Your brother’s wife has a sister in Mino. Perhaps she will raise your baby as her own.

“There’s nothing you can do,” you murmur into the side of his neck. You can feel a rumbling in his throat, a low growl in reply. When you stroke his back, he stills. There is virtually no space between you, and you can feel the mouth on his stomach shift against your midsection. Instinctively, you slide a hand over yourself as a barrier.

He doesn’t seem to notice the defensive gesture, and for that, you are thankful. Sukuna never sleeps when he is with you, only laying in a facsimile of it in his stillness and steadiness while you actively slumber. He is always gone in the morning when you wake, but if you are (un)lucky, you can still catch his scent on you. As you lean back to rub noses with him, you find him staring at you intently. Eyes like piercing daggers, you have no doubt he has watched you like this many nights before.

“Nothing at all.” It is not a question. It is said with malice, with suspicion.

Your little fantasy of a life with him seems ever further away. A fool’s delusion.

This man does not love you — he loves how much he can control you. He loves that you sit prettily in the palm of his hand, that you give him everything without protest. He loves that he always leaves you wanting for more. He loves that you lie for him, that you live a double life only for him. He loves the feeling of turning you against his greatest enemies, even if that was never true.

He loves that he is one of the only reasons you are ever happy. He loves that you are afraid of his moods, and that you do all that you can to please him. He loves that do as he asks in all respects but one. He loves that you are so small against him, so frail. He loves you most when you are at your weakest. He loves only as a monster loves.

You cannot — you will not ever allow him to sink his claws into this child.

You press a gentle kiss to Sukuna’s lips, a false promise. “Nothing at all.”

[pedropascallovebot]

had to repost this because my internet is awful but huzzah i have returned from a writing hiatus i have been doing nothing but reading sambucky fics and i decided to curse the world with a bucky x reader even though no one asked me to. you may now put me in exile.

-

Bucky likes the smell of the candles you burn in your apartment, even though he swears to you that you have to stop forgetting to blow them out before you go to sleep. He knows that your record player in the corner collects a bunch of dust. He remembers laughing when you had defended yourself when he joked about your devastatingly low vinyl count- "I swear, I do use it! But look me in the eye and tell me Spotify isn't more convenient." He likes the various little crystals and stones you have scattered on your windowsill, even if he doesn't know anything about that stuff. Bucky really likes your bookcase, though. You told him upon his first visit to your place that you thrifted it for an absolute bargain, and it appears that it's been put to good use, given there's not a single place on the shelf for another book to fit without stacking some on top of one another. Most of all, he likes that you’re there. He’s only known you for a short period of time, and he gets that nothing is really official yet… but he likes you. He can’t say it out loud to himself yet, but his therapist definitely knows your name.

All throughout his horrible, miserable, no good bad day, Bucky is thinking about how warm and safe your apartment feels, and consequentially, he's thinking about you. He knows he's got it bad, but there's little to be done about it when his brain starts screaming profanities at him whenever he dares dwell on the thought of your face for too long. He misses you, though. Especially when he's nursing some embarrassment and frustration caused by a group of anarchists pushing him out of a moving truck. He wants so desperately to call and check to see how you're doing, what you're up to, but by the time Sam's got him back home it's nearly one in the morning and he shouldn't wake you. Right? He should lock his door, hang up his jacket, and settle in for a long night of doing nothing but scrolling through the guide of all the weird movies his cable company is playing. He shouldn't be halfway down the stairs of his apartment building to walk across town in the middle of the night to come see you.

But it's inevitable that he ends up at your front door. That annoying yelling in his brain is back, telling him that he should just go home before he knocks and wakes you up, but his hand is already rapping on the wood and he can hear scrambling from the other side of the door. It was only then he realized it might of been a good idea to call ahead, because God, what kind of person is answering the door this late, and who's to say you don't already have someone there already, and fuck, fuck, fuck, it's not too late to just hide behind the big artificial tree that the apartment complex put up for decoration-

You open up right before he can entertain that thought. You look like an absolute angel, he thinks. You’re in some t-shirt that’s way too big for you, and your eyes smile when you see him. But from what he can tell, you're tired. Maybe he did wake you up, and he feels that familiar pinch of guilt in his chest.

"I was, uhm.. in the neighborhood," he starts, his hands very focused on the loose thread of his jacket sleeve. "figured I'd stop by and see how you were."

And there goes your eyes again, kind and soft and welcoming, something that Bucky isn't really used to feeling yet. He's being ushered in, and suddenly realizes the television is still on. The guilt subsides knowing he didn’t wake you.

"You should absolutely be sleeping right now, but I'll let it slide because I miss you," you smile, and Bucky knows he's a goner when you press a kiss to his cheek before shutting the door behind him.

“So should you.” Then, a quiet “I miss you too.”

"Want some tea? Or some coffee? I've got the kettle going with some hot water and I was planning on making some sleepytime tea, but I think I've got a few packets of that instant espresso crap buried if you don't wanna wait for the coffee pot to brew..."

You trail off into a comfortable silence for a minute as he watches as you grab a box of the celestial seasonings that you always kept in stock, the one with the bear sitting by the fireplace. Feeling inclined to help, Bucky attempts to step foot in the kitchen and grab a couple of mugs before immediately being banished to the living room, where he then listened to your rant about how he looked like he just got run over by a moving vehicle, and how he should sit down. Well, you were kinda right. You go to drop a couple of teabags into hot water, but not before you warn him to get on the couch before he falls asleep standing up.

He doesn't follow directions very well, because his feet lead him over to your bookshelf, where you've got some sort of scented wax over a tea light. Eyes trailing over the numerous books you have, he recognized a few. A Farewell to Arms, Main Street, and the two copies you had of The Great Gatsby. He knows you have a love-hate relationship with Harry Potter, but all seven of the books sat at eye level, a bit faded from countless rereads as soon as the weather got colder and you needed something cozy and familiar.

His gaze is caught on one book in particular; one that he thought about earlier today, before a teenager punched the living daylights out of him and before Walker and his unbearably chirpy sidekick made his day go from bad to worse. The Hobbit sat tucked away to the left of The Lord of the Rings, and Bucky reached out and gently pulled it from the row. It wasn't the same cover as the one he had at his apartment- yours had drawn trees and mountains, with runes lining the edges of the illustration. His own copy had what he assumed was a still from the movie adaptation, something he never bothered to watch. He still felt compelled to buy the book when he saw it sitting on the shelf at a store.

"I already called dibs on the Star Wars mug," you joked, heading out into the living room carrying two mugs of tea. "You're gonna have to drink from the-"

"Can you read to me?"

He does feel bad for interrupting you, but to be fair, the words slipped out before he could even stop them. He feels his nerves swell up a bit before you answer him, and the book in his hands feels heavier than it should.

You set the tea down on the small table at the end of the couch before switching on the lamp, offering the room some light which was previously only provided by a few candles, the kitchen, and the glow from the television. You switch that off, too, and the nerves that Bucky was sure were radiating off him melt away.

“Only if you stop standing ten feet away and come cuddle me while I do.”

When you spoke, it took Bucky all of two seconds to make his way to the couch, grabbing the blanket he knows you love and draping it over the both of you as you trade him his tea for the book.

“Teasing me about wanting to read The Hobbit is off the table, doll.” Bucky drapes an arm over your shoulder, making himself comfortable. “A friendly reminder it sits on your bookshelf.”

He hears you giggle and he’s in absolute awe of how much he wants to kiss you. Sure, you both have done plenty of that over the course of time he’s known you, but there’s something about you sitting in his arms with a book he knows so well open in front of you. Home.

“I’ll admit, it’s been a while since I’ve read this, my knowledge of Middle Earth is a bit spotty.”

“I’m willing to bet it’s been even longer for me,” he jokes, but there’s still a sting when he says it. Bucky pushes it aside.

“Alright, old coot. Let’s start from the beginning.”

-

“The dark filled all the room, and the fire died down, and the shadows were lost, and they still played on.”

It takes Bucky all of five minutes and a few sips of tea to get him tired before he’s placing his cup down and resting his head on your shoulder, and you’re almost down for the count, ready to retire to your bed. But you only have about ten pages until the end of the chapter and Bucky is way too good of a pillow to even think about moving. The dwarves start to sing their song, and if you’re remembering correctly, this is when things really start to get good. You debate if you want to continue, but then you look down and see Bucky absolutely zonked, and your mind is made up. You yawn and set the book on the table before reaching over and shutting off the lamp, attempting not to wake up the sleeping figure next to you.

[atths--twice]

Quiet, Soft

Needing a break from living life on the run in motel rooms, Mulder and Scully venture out to a different living environment.

A few weeks ago, I was driving home and decided to listen to a 90s playlist on Amazon and heard the song in this story. I was instantly back to nights of parties and having fun with friends. When being in my twenties was the best and life was easier. 

THEN, it made me think of MSR, out in the world enjoying places from my own memories.

Hope you enjoy. 

August 2003

The air around them was warm, stars filling the sky. There was word of a meteor shower happening later and they were sitting out waiting for it. Well, he was anyway. He was not sure Scully was even thinking about it anymore. Currently, she was swaying to the music echoing from across the river.

Two weeks ago they had been leaving a motel room, after an exceptionally long stay, and she had sighed as they put their bags into the car. Looking at her, she had shaken her head and sighed again.

"What is it?" he had asked.

"I don't know," she had answered. "I feel like we were here for too long or something. It’s a small town and thankfully people left us alone, but something feels… off. I know I wasn't always overly excited about our past trips to the forest, but I feel the time in the motel here has left me wishing for some fresh air." She shrugged and he nodded in understanding.

"Well, we do have the tent with us. We could head to the forest if that’s what you want." He had raised his eyebrows and smiled, knowing that was not exactly what she had been implying.

"I wouldn't go that far," she had said with a laugh, as they got into the car and shut the doors. "Something different would be nice, though I’ll never admit that I want to camp out in the woods." She had smiled at him and he nodded, his mind already thinking of what they could do.

After some discussion, they rented a cabin cruiser boat from a jovial, red cheeked man on a large river, despite Mulder’s tendency toward seasickness. They had stayed both on the boat and also camped out in their tent on little sandbars or grassy picnic areas with public bathrooms and showers.

About halfway down the river, there was a small dock. A path led up to a small convenience store where Scully stocked up on supplies, bringing them back to the boat with a happy smile.

Food and other necessities procured, they had driven around the river, the wind blowing through their hair as Scully laughed happily, her arm around his waist. Other times they had floated lazily, the boat rocking as Scully lay on the bow of the boat on a towel in a bikini, the sun warming her skin, as he had walked over to join her on silent bare feet with a bottle of sunscreen in his hand.

They made love in the early morning, the sun just beginning to brighten the sky, or late at night, the stars above them twinkling down through the mesh of the tent.

They went skinny dipping, day or night, shivering in the chilly water, laughing as they dunked under and swam around.

Simple meals had been cooked over a campfire or in the small kitchen of the boat, touching and smiling as they worked together.

Sitting on the boat at night, with her between his legs and leaning back against his chest, as her fingers ran gently up and down his thighs, they had listened to others who were camping around the river, music and laughter sounding in the still air.

Needless to say, she had the fresh air she had been seeking.

Tonight, there were people on the other side of the river having a party around a large fire, their music playing loudly. If they had not been there, Mulder was certain that he and Scully could have been the last two people on earth, and that would have been just fine with him.

"Mmm…” Scully hummed as she swayed, her eyes closed, a happy smile on her face, and he smiled as he watched her.

They were drinking tonight, not something they usually did, but when she had suggested margaritas by the fire, he’d had no argument. Margaritas had then turned into drinking tequila straight from the bottle, her cheeks becoming more flushed with every sip. But she was happy and he loved seeing her that way.

"Mulder, come dance with me," she sighed and he poked at the fire before getting up and coming to stand beside her. She smiled at him, her eyes half closed and head tilting back. He took the bottle of tequila from her and capped it, tossing it onto the sand.

Smiling at her, he reached out and grabbed handfuls of the new sun dress she had bought before they came onto the boat, and pulled her close. It was an interesting dress that simply wrapped around her and tied in specific spots. A wrap dress, she had called it.

“Or an unwrapped one,” he had said, tugging at the tie and kissing her neck, her laughter in his ear as his hand had slid into the dress. Finding her wearing nothing underneath, his kiss had become a nip as he growled and she shivered.

It had quickly become one of his favorite clothing items she owned.

“Hmm,” she hummed, leaning heavily against him, and he smiled.

They were not exactly dancing, but standing in the sand holding one another. She smelled of tequila, sunscreen, and sunshine; having spent the day swimming and lying lazily in the sun.

"So have you had all the fresh air you were craving?" he asked and she hummed again in response. He chuckled and ran his fingers through her hair as a yell went up across the take and he glanced in that direction.

"What do you suppose they’re doing over there? Excited for the meaty shower?"

"Do you mean meteor shower?" he asked with a soft laugh and he felt her shrug. “Are you excited, tequila drinker?"

"I've seen many me-teor showers, Mulder,” she slurred, her hands locking around his waist, her thumbs stroking his back. "But, I know you like them, so..."

"Yes, how odd of me to enjoy something as romantic as gazing up at the stars,” he said dryly as he rolled his eyes and she laughed. Tipping her head back, she looked at him through heavy lidded eyes.

"I like that you're a romantic person," she said softly. "Have I ever told you that before, Mulder?" He smiled, stroking her cheek, and brushing her hair back.

"I don't know if you've ever said as such, but l know you do."

"Good, because I really do. I always have you know." Her eyes closed and he smiled, stroking her cheek again.

"What was it that you liked most about my romantic side, Miss Scully?" he asked teasingly, but knowing her answer would be more forthcoming, the alcohol in her bloodstream loosening her tongue.

"Most? Hmm...” She licked her lips and ran her teeth slowly across the bottom one. He swallowed as he watched her, wanting to taste her lips. She smiled and opened her eyes, the moonlight shining in them. "You’re a quiet romantic, Mulder. I think that's what I’ve always liked most. It's not something… overstated or really known unless someone was paying attention."

"And you were of course.”

"Damn straight I was," she replied, her nails pressing into his back. “I always pay attention.” She stumbled slightly and he chuckled as he held her tighter.

“Mmhmm,” he murmured and she stared at him, her eyes having a hard time focusing.

“Do you… doubt me?” she slurred again and he shook his head.

“I would never,” he whispered with a shake of his head, a smile on his lips.

Strumming my pain with his fingers

“Oh… Mulder…” she said, her eyes widening as she pulled away from him unsteadily, before she closed them and began to sway and hum, the people across the way cheering and singing along loudly to the song now playing.

Singing my life with his words Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song

“I really like this song. Hmm…” She raised her arms over her head as she danced, and he grinned as he watched her, the people still cheering and chanting hey, hey, hey as the song began past the chorus, Scully humming and singing along.

I heard he sang a good song I heard he had a style And so I came to see him and listen for a while And there he was, this young boy, a stranger to my eyes

Loud singing continued, Scully joining in a quieter tone, and he shook his head, closing his eyes as he smiled, listening and swaying slightly.

Strumming my pain with his fingers (one time, one time) Singing my life with his words (two times, two times) Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song

Her hands on his chest caused his eyes to fly open. Staring down into her eyes, she sang quietly, the words slightly slurred, her body pressed close to his own, his hands falling to her hips.

I felt all flushed with fever, embarrassed by the crowd I felt he'd found my letters and read each one out loud I prayed that he would finish, but he just kept right on

Strumming my pain with his fingers (one time, one time) Singing my life with his words (two times, two times) Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song

From across the river, the singing grew louder, men and women joining in and Scully stepped away from him, her eyes closed and arms over her head again, singing along loudly in their direction.

Woah Woah-oah-ah-ah-ah uh, uh La-la-la, la, la, la Woah, la Woah, la La-ah-ah-ah-ah

It seemed everyone was now singing and he smiled as he nodded along, not knowing all the words, but enjoying the beat, and the sway of Scully’s hips.

Strumming my pain with his fingers (yes, he was singing my life) Singing my life with his words Killing me softly with his song Killing me softly with his song Telling my whole life with his words Killing me softly with his song

She hummed as the words died down and the people laughed and the occasional chorus continued to ring out before the next song began to play.

“Strumming my pain with his fingers,” she sang softly as she turned around and stepped over to him. He pulled her close as she stumbled slightly, her feet touching his in the sand and her arms wrapping loosely around him. “Killing me softly with his song… hmm.”

He smiled as they stood, only slightly moving, the warm air blowing. Moving his head down, he kissed just below her ear as he breathed in deeply. Better than any alcohol he would ever drink, her scent intoxicated him, leaving him with a hangover from which he never wanted to recover.  

“I think I should sit down,” she whispered and he laughed, kissing her neck again as she leaned further into him.

Walking to the large quilt spread out before the fire, he helped her down and then sat beside her as she laid on her back.

“The earth is spinning,” she mumbled.

“Every second of every day,” he retorted as he looked at her, a slight smile on her lips as she closed her eyes.

“Even more so right now, for me anyway. I don’t know if I’ll make it for the meteor shower.”

“That’s okay.”

“Is it?” she asked, reaching for his hand, her eyes opening with only a slight struggle. Appearing sober for a moment, he saw sadness within them and he wanted her to remain happy, the thoughts that haunted her lingering and causing pain.

“Of course I’m sure,” he said with a smile, taking her hand and kissing her fingers. “There are many meteor showers every year. You can catch the next one.”

He laid down beside her and she turned onto her side, releasing his hand and snuggling into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, looking up at the night sky, the stars shining brightly.

“Your understanding. Your touch. Your eyes on me. The way you lean in and it becomes only the two of us, even if there are hundreds of others around. How you care for others, for children especially. It’s quiet, soft…” She fell silent and he was sure she had fallen asleep, her breathing deep and even. He smiled, kissing the top of her head as his fingers massaged it softly, and he looked back at the sky.

“It’s quiet and soft,” she repeated in a whisper, and he raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You’re a good looking man, anyone can see that, but that’s not what attracts them to you.”

“No? You don’t find me attractive?” he teased and she breathed out a laugh.

“Fuck yes I do.” He laughed and she shifted, finding a more comfortable position. “But it’s not the physical, not completely. It’s you, your intensity and caring. It’s so damn attractive and sexy.” He laughed again as she ran her hand slowly up and down his chest with a low hum.

A flash flew across the sky and he tapped her head, tugging her hair a little to raise her head back and look up.

“It’s starting, Scully. Look.”

She shifted again and they watched the sky flashing with meteors passing quickly, some brighter and longer than others. Once again he stroked her hair, her breathing deep, her fingers nearly still.

“Strumming my pain with his fingers,” she sang in a whisper and he smiled.

“One time, one time,” he sang back, and she exhaled a chuckle.

“Killing me softly with his song…” she whispered, shifting again and kissing his neck, breathing out her love for him before she fell asleep, her fingers gripping his shirt.

The party across the way continued, seemingly unaware of the wonder of nature happening above them.

He stayed awake as long as he could, but the warmth of the fire, the woman beside him, and the summer evening, soon pulled him to sleep.

He dreamed of her. She was dancing in the sand, her hands beckoning to him, a beautiful smile on her face as music echoed all around them.

Strumming my pain with his fingers…

[tinyboxxtink]

"Caught In The Storm" *Part 2*

Y'all thought I was kidding when I said I was pumped for this story; you just read how long this chapter is.

IT'S POURING OUT. I JUST WANT YOU TO GET WHERE I AM ALREADY.

It's so good guys. Like, SO GOOD.

Okay I'm sorry proceed.

Tag List:

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@wanniiieeee

@milkshqke

@gibbs274

@lolliepopsicle

@aprildecker-blog

@objection-argumentative

@word-scribbless

If you missed part 1: Here!

Part 3 Here!

-----

The next day the SVU squad was having one of their "murder board" meetings when you came storming into the station.

"Well I hope you're happy!!" You looked right at Fin.

"Audition didn't go well, cannoli?" Sonny asked you using his pet name for you.

"No Sonny, it DID NOT," You huffed. "I walked in there and I blew my audition," You circled Fin’s desk. "And I don't mean I forgot the lyrics, or I hit a bad note. No no, ohhhh no," You finally stood in front of him and crossed your arms.

"Halfway through the song I broke down SOBBING. I had a complete mental breakdown, because all I could think was that I had the worst moment of my entire life in that room!!!"

"Hey you can't blame us for your mistakes," Fin retorted.

"I don't blame them, I blame you!" You gestured to the rest of your “family” and then to him.

"Excuse you?" Fin sat up straighter.

"You didn't have to say anything Fin, you really didn't," You sighed.

"What?"

"You could have waited to have your fucking temper tantrum until after my audition,"

"Excuse me no--"

"She has a point" Olivia interjected.

"You too?" Fin took offense.

"Fin she was leaving, it wasn't like she was going to try and jump Rafael's bones right there," She went on. The whole room shivered at the thought of you “jumping” anybody’s bones.

"Look, I don't love it either but you can't help your feelings. And she just has a little crush on him, you can't fault her for that,"

You scoffed in offense.

"You're not helping, sweets," Olivia warned.

"Right…"

"Anyway you could have waited to have it out, is all I’m saying,” Olivia nodded at you with a smile. You mouthed a “thank you”.

"Oh we haven't begun to have it out," Fin huffed.

"Save it" You put a hand up before he started to stand up and get in your face for a fight.

"I already know what you're going to say; he's too old for me, we're a 'family' and he's supposed to be my 'uncle' or 'brother' or some other creepy thing, and we have nothing in common. But we do!"

"You barely know him, Y/N," Nick chimed in.

"I know him better than any of you!" You cried defensively.

"What?" Sonny looked at everyone confused, but they were just as lost as he was.

"That summer….when I was working with him. We got... close," You muttered the ending.

"I fucking knew it, you did bang him begin my back…" Fin growled.

"It wasn't like that! It's not like that, da--FIN," You actually did usually call him dad or daddy, but since he had been trying to use his dominance you persisted to remind him he wasn't actually your father.

"So what, now you two are in love?" Fin rolled his eyes.

"No! He didn't... we've never….it's never gone there, and I don't even know how he feels," You looked down as you talked. But then, you remembered why you were there in the first place and you raised your head up with eyes of fire.

“And it wouldn't matter anyway because it's none of your business.” You snapped.

“It is absolutely my business Y/N he’s my co-worker, he’s ALL of our co-workers, this affects ALL of us,”

“I knew it,” You scoffed, tears coming to your eyes.

“What?”

“I knew you’d blow up, and freak out, and not even ATTEMPT to open your mind or hear what I have to say, it’s just about you and what makes you okay,” You backed away from all of them.

“So I came here willing to say that I’m done,” You raised your hands.

“What do you mean you’re ‘done’?” Fin crossed his arms.

“With you,” You replied straight faced, willing tears not to fall right now. “Olivia’s right, I can’t help the way I feel, and BELIEVE me I have tried, daddy,” You resorted to your old name for a punch in the gut.

“Y’know whenever Sonny and Nick started, I had ‘crushes’ on them too,” You nodded at the two, who quickly looked uncomfortable picturing you that way.

“But those quickly went away, and I accepted them as my uncles, or whatnot,” You continued. “I have done that since I was in Jr. High, come here and meet my new ‘family’. I’ve always felt maternal or paternal vibes from everyone here, Uncle Brian, Grandpa Kragen and Munch, Uncle Stabler who can rot in hell…” You gave Olivia a sad look.

“But it’s ALWAYS been familial love! And the day I met Rafael, something was different,” You couldn’t help the tears choking your throat. “And I have never, EVER no matter HOW hard I have tried, felt anything like I feel about the rest of you. It’s just....different,”

“And now, you all know. And I know that you don’t like it, or it makes you uneasy, or blah blah blah,” You made blah gestures with your hands.

“But I can’t go back to pretending that it doesn’t kill me every time that I see him, and I’m not going to pretend like I’m okay with dad being-- this,” You gestured to Fin who shifted uncomfortably.

“So, I’m not going to come around here, for a while,” You said sadly.

“We didn’t do anything, cannoli! We’re your family too,” Sonny protested.

“Yeah I know, I just--”

“Look, Y/N before anybody does ANYTHING, you need to go talk to Rafael,”

“What?

“WHAT?!”

Both you and Fin exclaimed at the same time.

“Look I’m not thrilled with the idea of...that, but the bottom line none of this arguing means anything if he doesn’t feel the same way. So I’m saying before you start going off and making threats to US, go talk to him first. Without anybody else’s input,”

“Yeah, alright,” You shrugged and left before anyone else could argue.

--------

You walked into Rafael’s office quietly, not really sure how to start the conversation. He was writing a deposition silently so you knocked on the door to get his attention. He looked up at you with a small smile.

“Hey you,” He got up and walked around his desk as you shut the door behind you. “I was worried about you,” He put his hands on both of your shoulders.

“I know,” You gave him a small smile back. “But you’re right we do need to talk about last night,”

“Yeah, I--” He looked away nervously.

“I already went to my da---Fin, and the squad about this,” You bit your lip.

“....About what?” He was now concerned.

“Us,” You looked at him with a small smile.

“I’m sorry, there’s an ‘us’ now?” Rafael half laughed.

“Well that’s what I’m saying, Rafael!” You bit your lip. “Look after all the fighting and what not, what it boils down to is how you and I feel,”

“.....What are you saying?” Rafael asked, backing away from you.

“I’m asking,” You step forward and took both of his hands and looked at him seriously.

“For you to forget about Fin, or the squad, or an age gap, or all the million other things that are ‘against’ us,” You took a deep breath and asked the hardest question you’ve ever asked anyone:

“I’m asking you...do you love me?”

“Of course I love you Y/N, you’re like a--” Rafael immediately responded, moving away from you and gesturing wildly.

“Do NOT say daughter,” You cut him off. “Or sister, or niece, or cousin. You know that’s not what I’m asking,” You grabbed him and made him look at you again.

“Do you want to be with me?”

“I...it’s complicated,” He broke from your hold and paced his office.

“No I’d say it’s pretty damn simple-- do you feel about me the way I feel about you?” You asked him again.

“I just...I don’t want to become between you and Fin, he’s basically your--”

“He’s NOT my father!” You yelled.

“But he’s the closest thing you have!” Rafael argued, putting his hands over his face and taking a deep sigh.

“Christ almighty, Y/N. I don’t...I don’t want this to be a whole ‘thing’, I don’t want to upset Olivia, or the other squad members, I just...want us to go back to normal,” He gave you a sad look as he sank into his chair behind his desk.

“....Yeah well, normal is not an option, Rafael. And you STILL have not answered my question,” You circled his desk to be closer to him again.

“What question?”

“Dammit, Rafa!” You threw up your hands, then took both of your hands and put them on either side of the chair preventing him from evading you again.

“Look me in the eyes right now, and tell me you’re not in love with me,”

A very long pause began, as the two of you just stared at each other. You were searching his green eyes for a hint, a tell of what he was thinking, but he kept himself very guarded. You hated it.

“...No, I’m not,” He said in the tiniest voice as he looked down at the floor.

“You’re lying,” You pulled back with a sarcastic laugh, tears choking your throat yet again.

“Oh so just because I didn’t say what you wanted me to, I’m lying? For fuck’s sake grow up, Y/N,” Rafael spat at you coldly, turning back to his desk in an attempt to resume working.

“Fine, you know what? Fine. That’s great. You believe whatever you wanna believe Rafael, but things are NOT going back to normal,” You shook your head, trying to be cold and direct but failing as tears fell from your eyes.

“Y/N….” He felt his heart breaking, he hated to see you cry.

“No,” You stopped him. “We’re done. I don’t ever want to see you again. Not here, not at the station, not at the fucking Starbucks down my street!” Your voice raised as more tears fell.

“Y/N, please don’t do this…” Rafael began to panic, realizing what you were saying. He leapt up from his chair and tried grabbing your hands but you pushed him away.

“Don’t call me, don’t text me. Just...leave me hell alone,” And with that you turned on your heels and stormed out of his office, now full on sobbing down the hall.

Unbeknownst to you, Rafael let out an angry scream, running over to his desk and flinging papers everywhere, then proceeded to sink back into his chair behind his desk and cried ever so silently in his office.

-----

It had been about a week since your whole fallout with your “family” and Barba and you weren't doing great.

Then one day you got a phone call from an unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/N, this is Sandy from the supper club?” You immediately stopped walking when you heard her voice.

“Oh yes how are you?”

“Great, I was wondering if you could come back in and audition for us again?”

“Are you serious? I know I’m going to regret asking but, what made you change your mind?”

“Well your friend Kelsey called and told us that the day you came in and auditioned, your dog had just died that morning. But you didn't want to stand us up so you came anyway. And to be honest with you, all of the other auditions have kind of sucked so we'd like to give you another try.”

“Oh my God thank you, thank you, thank you so much!!!”

“Great so we'll see you tonight at 8:00?”

“Absolutely,”

You hung up the phone and immediately called Kelsey.

“Hello?”

“I love you so much I love you I love you I love you!”

“Oh so they called did they?”

“YES. I cannot believe that you would do that for me,”

“Well I figured you needed a win right now. Since you know you lost your family, and everybody who actually cares about you,”

“....Wow,”

“ You know what I mean! I mean you still have me, and Kenny obviously,”

“....Right. ANYWAY, the audition is tonight so….”

“Yes?”

“Will you play for me?”

“Let me see if I can free up my busy schedule,”

“Ha, Ha,”

“Oh look I’m free! I'll be there after work. Love you bye”

----

*That Night*

You walked into the Supper Club with a brand new outfit and a nervous smile. You noticed Kelsey was already at the piano, waving at you with a huge smile and a thumbs up.

“Hey Sandy, Hey Kyle…” You shook hands with the owners. “Thank you so much again for this chance,

“Girl we should be thanking you, you should’ve seen the ‘talent’ that has stunk up this stage all week!” Kyle laughed.

“So are you ready?” Sandy asked you.

“Yeah, I think I’m good,” You took a deep breath and smiled at her. She nodded at you while you took your spot on stage once again.

You closed your eyes and blocked out everything and everyone out of your mind, except for your song. It was just you, and the stage. This is what mattered.

-----

“....Good to you,” You finished the last line with a breathy note, your eyes still closed. You had kept them shut the entire time just so you wouldn’t look out into the house and just see the horrified looks of your family's faces burned into your brain.

“That was beautiful!!” Sandy clapped her hands. “Do you think you could come back tomorrow night and do that again?”

“Like for a second audition?” You asked hopefully.

“Like as a job,” She grinned back.

“Really?!”

“Yes really! That was enchanting darling, really,” Kyle placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Thank you, thank you so much!” You nodded for Kelsey to come over as Sandy and Kyle walked away.

“I got the job,” You beamed.

“YOU GOT THE JOB!!!!” She squealed, causing people to stare. You shook your head and lead her out of the club back onto the street.

“Oh my god, Oh my GOD! I’m going to sing to a packed club, night after night after night! Oh my god, I have to call Dad---” Your celebrating tone quickly died when you realized the only people you’d wanna call about this weren’t...there.

“...You can call Kenny,”

“Kenny!” You smiled. “Yes I’ll call Kenny!”

“Hey girl what’s up?”

“I got the job,”

“Wha---at the Supper Club?”

“YES!!!!!!”

“Oh my god you GOT THE JOB!!!” *she got the job!*

You heard him speak to a muffled voice in the background.

“Kenny…”

“Yeah babe what’s up?”

“Who are you with right now?”

“...Alejandro,”

“Oh, Alex! I haven’t seen him in forever, put him on the phone,”

“He uh-- he has food in his mouth,”

“Boy why you lying, tell her she needs to--”

You heard Fin's voice.

“KENNETH,”

“...Yeah?”

“Don’t tell him that! He doesn’t get to know that!”

“Y/N, can’t we just stop all of this--”

“NO. And if you tell him to come tomorrow night I will kill you,”

You hung the phone and noticed Kelsey giving you a look.

“What?” You raised an eyebrow.

“You didn’t have to tell him you were singing tomorrow, you could’ve just texted him so Fin wouldn’t hear,” She smiled mischievously at you. “You want him thereeee,”

"...Maybe," You bit your lip. "Do you think he'll come?"

"I bet they ALL come, baby girl," She winked.

You wondered if she was right. If you'd see Rafael tomorrow, after all this time.

------

“I can’t believe she--” Kenneth stared at the phone, then to Fin.

“Dad, you have to go to her show tomorrow night,”

“Kenny she literally just said she’d kill you--”

“Yeah but dad, we both know her,” He looked at Fin with earnest eyes. “She might be mad at you right now, but she’ll want you there when her dream is coming true,” Fin’s eyes lit up as he finished speaking.

“AND the rest of the squad,” He quickly added, making Fin sigh.

“Yeah,” He agreed.

“AND Barba,”

“...Yeah alright Ken I get it, okay? Finish your food before it gets cold,”

-----

The next day Fin went to see Barba at his office. He knocked softly then entered to see Barba talking with Olivia.

“Detective,” Barba nodded. “Didn’t expect you here, was Olivia not working fast enough?” He teased Liv with a smile.

“Actually I’m glad you’re both here. I need to tell the rest of the guys but-- I wanted to come here first,”

“That sounds ominous, Fin,”

“Actually it’s not,” He shook his head. “Y/N got that job she...auditioned for, a few weeks ago,” He muttered awkwardly not looking Barba in the face.

“Wha--Seriously? How? When?!” Olivia began asking questions rapid fire.

“....Why did you come to tell me this, Fin? You didn’t know Olivia was here,”

“Look, Barba,” Fin sighed, running his hand back across his head. “I don’t-- I don’t need to know the specifics of how close you and my daug---Y/N, are,”

“Oh Fin look I haven’t--”

“Yeah, I figured. She’s iced us all out for a while now,” He chuckled sadly. If he taught you anything, it was how to stand your ground.

“But Kenny said, that as mad as she is we need to be there tomorrow night when she goes on,” He continued. “All of us,”

“Tomorrow?” Barba’s eyes perked up. “Tomorrow night, you want me to go see Y/N?”

“ALL of us,” He emphasized. “But, yeah,”

“Sounds good,” He replied as nonchalant as he could, trying to hide his excitement. He missed you so badly, it scared him how much it hurt not to have you in his life on a daily basis.

“Uh huh,” Fin chuckled, nodding to Olivia. “I’ll see you back at the station,”

“Actually I was on my way out, I’ll see you tomorrow night Rafa,” She winked at him.

As soon as they left his office, Rafael did a fist pump in the air like a kid. He was going to see you, after so long.

He couldn’t wait. He just hoped you couldn’t either.

[oksana-moods]

Ghost of you - Part 9

Summary: Ghost realizes that, no matter how hard she tries, she can't run away from her past. When Carol's presence do more harm than good, the only way to come clean is to take a dive. A/N: Thank you again for all the support, and to let you know that we reached the point where things start to change. Starting for the song theme. Now we’ll go with ‘Writings on the wall’ from Sam Smith. We’re halfway through, lovelies. Trigger Warnings: Violence, language (a bit too much, I believe), mentions of death… if you find others, let me know. Oh, sort of WandaVision spoiler. Angst. “I've spent a lifetime running, and I always get away”

With my hands involuntarily clutching the tag, I’m sitting at the roof watching the sun slowly but inexorably going down in the horizon. Once, I heard that this is what life feels like. We born just like the sun raises, we reach our greatest point then we start to set till night embraces us. Death, just like the sunset, is inevitable. I find myself agreeing with this metaphor.

It’s been a few months since our futile attempt to overturn Thanos’s snap. And now, each one of us went different ways to try to cope with this catastrophe.

Steve, Natasha and I were still living at the compound we had nowhere else to go so we’re pretending that we were taking care of things, that we’re moving on.

Tony and Pepper are about to get married and, honestly, I hope they find happiness. While Bruce went missing again, Thor went to New Asgard, he lost everything but still had a Realm to rule; Rhodey was working for the Government in a high position, or so I heard. Wakanda lost all the royal family but Okoye was holding on, as best as she could. Rocket and Nebula stayed a bit but returned to space with promises of visiting whenever they could.

Oddly, the logo ‘Avengers’ was scattered all over the universe. We were broken, but we would still protect whom needed protection.

And there is The Avenger, the original one. Carol barely touched the ground coming back from Garden and took-off claiming she needed to check on Skrulls. Not even three weeks later she was back, and that caught me off guard. I’ve never expected for her to return, not that quickly, at least.

She’s been trying to talk to me, but I dodged all of her attempts.

Until now.

 “Hey, Mav.” I close my eyes when her voice reaches my ears. “The view from here is amazing.”

I was sitting at the edge of the roof and Carol was leaning with her elbows at the rampart.

“Yes. It is.” I answer. “What do you want, Carol?” We both know she’s not here for the view.

“To talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” I got up from my seat, I’m standing in the roof starting to make my way to the door. I flinch away when her hand touches my metal arm. I shoot an outrageous look at her.

“Please.” Her eyes are so soft against my gaze that something inside me stirs. “You’ve been avoiding me. Natasha told me that you lost most part of your memories.” Her brows are so furrowed that is clear she’s upset. Why is she? I turn away from her, I’m looking at the horizon once more. Her gaze was too overwhelming, right now.

“What do you want to know?” I shove my hands inside my pockets. Damn, why am I so nervous? “Most of my memories are gone. The last four years is all I have without gaps. Wanda…” I close my eyes, still hurts to think about her. I think it always will. “She helped me to unbury whatever she could.” I saw Carol leaning at the rampart. She was trying to get closer, but I needed distance.

“I crashed after your crash.” She nodded, of course she knew this. “Whatever happened to you with the tesseract, spattered in me too. That’s why I haven’t changed, just like you.” I could feel my hands shaking inside my pockets, I was uneasy. Something about her was pulling me to the edge.

“But, what about…” She hesitated “What about your arm?”  Why is she pretending to be concerned? She’s getting under my skin and I’m feeling cornered. So, I do what every cornered animal do. They attack.

“Will you fucking stop beating the bush? Ask me what you fucking want to ask.” Oh and so she did, she was exasperated with me acting like an idiot. What was she expecting?

“I came to earth around 2007. I went to Maria’s and she told me you were at war but never make it back. I… I saw your stone. I… I…” She ran a hand through her hair. “I thought you were dead.” Her voice was a whisper but that made something burst inside me. I grieved her, even when I knew she was alive. She chose to go away and wanna play the broken-hearted role?

“You and me both!” My voice was harsh and loud, but I wasn’t yelling yet. Yet. “What do you expect me to say, huh? That I am sorry someone lied to you? That I am sorry you were sad?” The setting sun illuminating her face, making her look gorgeous than ever, made me hate her even more. “Well, news flash for you, hon. YOU’RE NOT THE ONLY ONE! I still see you die every time I fucking close my eyes.” I yelled. I couldn’t take this anymore. “I SAW YOU DIE OVER AND OVER AND OVER.” Her eyes were glossy, there was something shining inside them that I couldn’t decipher. And, Fuck. It hurt so bad. They hurt me so bad. She hurt me.

“I… Lara, I am so, so sorry they did this to you” She whispered again. She didn’t want to fight, but all I know is fight. And I only stop when I see blood.

“When I was taken by Hydra, they made me watch you die, they made me watch you leaving." My voice was low and hard, this time. "So no, I can’t stand this. Hydra took everything from me. They beat me and oh, they hit me hard. They cut off every single piece of me, and they put me through hell. But you Carol, you broke me first.”

I turned in my heels and left the roof. Each step my feet tried to betray me, make me to look back, but I kept going til reach the door. I knew I was far too harsh, my words probably cut her, but if she was bleeding so was I.

 -----------------

 Days went by and I didn’t see Carol since that day in the roof. Steve told me she took a room for her at the compound, she’d be staying a bit longer. Of course she is. Like I didn’t have a lot to deal with already. Since there weren’t any assignments going on, all the workout in the world couldn’t help to ease my mind. Or heart.

  I park my motorcycle at the parking lot and pick up the flowers from inside my jacket. I check it to see if they still look good. I shrug, they’re good enough.

I walked inside the Hospital and expertly made my way to my friend’s room. It pained me to know she was sick, but she was too strong to give in that easy to cancer. She was a fighter. She inspired me. If she could go on even with her decease and losing her child, so could I.

“Buying flowers became a struggle nowadays.” I said with a smile.

Her smile lit up the whole room. “Good thing you’re not going out on dates, then.” My laugh filed the room.

“Please Maria, you’re too old to be that sassy.”

“You’re just as old as I am. The difference is just that you still look good.”

“You still look good, Ma. I’d take you out on a date.” And it was true, she was around her sixties but still look beautiful. Few lines near the eyes, but only complimented her.

“Awn, you flatter me” She put a hand on her chest, faking innocence. “I don’t go out with women, hon. But I’d definitely accept the invitation, I’m craving real food, not whatever this hospital calls food.” Instantly, this blows the air out of my lungs and I’m forced to face reality. My friends are gone and soon, Maria will be gone too. Carol told me once that her biggest fear was to bury all her friends. Fuck. I understand what she meant now.

“Geez, Mav. It was only a joke. Next time, don’t bring me flowers unless you’re bringing fries too.”

I forced a smile at her.

After the whole ordeal with the ‘Accords’ I was arrested alongside Clint, Scott and Sam. Cap came and rescued us, but I went on the road since I was an outlaw too, so my visits to Maria and Monica stopped despite keeping in touch. I wouldn’t forgive myself for the time I lost.

“Carol came to visit me yesterday.” That’s the Maria I came to know, never holding back her words. “Apparently, you’ve been giving her a hard time.”

“Oh. Did she come to cry on your shoulder?” Every time Carol’s name was brought up, I felt my brain short-circuiting. I don’t know why, but I hated it.

“Naa. I was just gossiping around, I’m an old lady, after all.” She laughed lighting up the mood. “Does it feel better to yell, to be a bitch with her?”

“What?”

“C’mon, Mav. You changed a lot, but I can still see through you. You need to vent whatever is stuck in your chest; you need to put it out.” I was frowning at the floor. “That’s the only way both of you will move on.”

“I hate her, Maria. Seeing her makes me feel like my wounds are cutting open once again. I don’t see how we can move past this, how I can forgive her.”

“If that’s true,” She pointed at my chest, and I knew what she was going to say. “Why do you still wear her tag and yours together?” All of a sudden, the Tag was heavy in my chest. Tons and tons of unspoken words, feelings, and pain weighting too much.

“I… I don’t know. It kinda feels right.” God, I’m so confused. Is it possible to be friends with Carol Danvers again? Will I, one day, forget everything Hydra made me feel with those memories? I wonder if that hopeless feeling will ever go away. Because right now, all I can think of is that, at any moment, she’ll turn her back on me or she’ll die. It’s hard to look at someone expecting, waiting for the pain that usually comes with their face.

“I know it does.” And she changed her tone to her bossy one. “So, stop acting like you have a stick shoved inside your ass and talk to her. Promise me you will.”

“All right. I promise.” I answered, it was no use try to avoid this. Maria wouldn’t drop this.

“That’s better.” She had that look like she knew that I’d comply with her request.

“Doesn’t upset you? That she left and forgot about us?” I was looking out of the window, looking at the cars outside, people were, slowly, trying to find their bearings. Trying to figure out what should be normal now. They were trying. Should I try, too?

Maria’s voice made me look at her when she replied. “It used to hurt, yes. But I’m dying, Mav, I don’t have time or patience to fight anymore.”

 After Maria scolded me enough for not talking to Carol, our conversation was lighter. She complained about the overprotective nurse, she complained that tv never had good things to watch, gossiped about other patients, and when I said my goodbyes, she made me promise to sneak some food for my next visit.

However, all the way home I kept overthinking these things I’ve been building up inside me. Something about Carol made me uneasy, like I’m exposed in a field filled with enemies, with nowhere to hide. And I don’t like it on bit. There’s something about her eyes, and I hate the intensity in them when she looks at me, it’s like they can pierce your soul, see what’s underneath… And I’m way too afraid of all the terrors that she might discover. I’m not Lara anymore, I’m not who she thinks I am, no. I’m someone else.

 -----------

 “You stole my spot.” I said as I reached the roof. The woman who I was addressing to, turned her head to look at me.

She was wearing a simple jeans with a blue t-shirt and her hair was framing her flawless face, how this woman could be so beautiful even with so common clothes was beyond me.

She gave me a tide smile that never reached her eyes, they were somewhat tired.

“Oh. It wasn’t my intention; I’ll leave you to be.”  Yes please, leave me alone. I thought to me myself, but then my conversation with Maria from last week came to my mind. Fuck. I hate making promises. She was preparing to leave when I spoke.

“There’s room enough for both of us, though.” I said with a shrug, pretending that I was okay with her company, pretending that I wasn’t uncomfortable with this proximity. Her head snapped at me, she looked at me like I had grown two heads.

“Okay.” Her voice was so soft that immediately put me on edge. I felt exposed again. What was happening with me?

 We stayed there for a while with a heavy silence between us. The tension was so thick that I’m sure we couldn’t move, that’s probably why none of us left the roof yet. There was a sea of unspoken words and as much as I hated it, we couldn’t ignore this anymore. If she’s going to stay, we’ll have to dive into this. We’ll have to work together at some point, this wouldn’t be healthy during even the simplest mission.

“You know, I’ve been in a lot of places, but none of them had such a beautiful sunset.” Her voice startled me; I wasn’t expecting at all.

“Well, it does have something peaceful, doesn’t it?” She seemed to ponder what I just said.

“One may say that this might be a spell. That there are a lot of beautiful places out there, but nothing compares to home.”

“Is it?”

“What?” She looked at me, confusion written all over her face.

“Is Earth you home?” At this, she frowned.

“Look, I know what you’re implying. I… I don’t know how much you remember from… before.” She seemed nervous. “What do you recall?”

And that’s it. There’s no turning back now, I needed to dive into this sea and hopefully I’ll reach the other side alive.

I looked forward; eyes set at the setting sun. I couldn’t deal with this and look at her at the same time. My hands started to shake so I wriggle them together to stop them, somehow.

“I remember us.” I felt a pang in my chest. Shit. What is this? “I remember you were always going back and forth to Earth. I remember when you went for good, ‘we’re too good at goodbyes’, yeah?!”

She signed heavily. “While helping Talos, I realized that a lot of people needed help. I wanted to stay, but I just couldn’t ignore innocent people dying.”

“People were dying here too.” She was frustrated, she threw her arms around impatient, but I continued before she could speak. “I know, I know you wanted to bring peace to whoever you could. And Earth already had its saviors.”  

“It’s not just like that, I…” She turned to fully look at me. “After I found out about your… death,” She struggled with the word, it fell heavily from her tongue. “I felt so helpless, so stupid for wasting away the time I could’ve had with you, I…” She was staring at me, eyes locked, and I felt myself being dragged inside. “I couldn’t forgive myself for loosing you for good.” She half whispered as if afraid of this becoming true. Like I could turn into a mirage, out of blue.

She was diving in the sea of what was left unsaid too, there’s no going back. “And when you died, part of me died too. Then Earth wasn’t home without you on it anymore, that’s why I never came back after. But then I received Fury’s emergency call, only to learn about Thanos… only to find out that you were alive this whole time.” Her eyes were glowing with such intensity, that my feet were glued to the ground. I felt a hand wrapping around mine. “I wanted to come back, back then. After I went through your door, I regretted at the very same instant, Lara.” Her voice was so soft when she spoke my name, it was like her tongue was made of velvet and it took the air out of my lungs. “After all, I wanted… I wanted so damn hard to be happy… with you. But I couldn’t find my way back, it didn’t seem right. I didn’t want to hurt you. I’d only do more damage than I already had. And I’m so, so sorry for hurting you.”

I was so entranced in her eyes while she was speaking that up until now, I hadn’t realized how close she was, or even that her hand was gripping my flesh hand. She’s so close that I could see the fading sunlight brightening her freckles. She was so, so close that my brain was at loss.

I didn’t know if the sun was illuminating her face or if it was the other way around, but such perfection made something inside me stir, I felt strange. I felt an urge to reached out and touch her face, like I needed to feel her skin under my touch just as much as I needed oxygen.   “Why are you here now, Carol?” My voice was so soft that felt foreign, almost like a whisper. “My heart is at Earth.” She whispered back, like she was afraid of breaking this spell, this trance that was keeping both of us from moving away.

[massivedrickhead]

you’ve done lots of prompts recently with Chloe taking care of Beca could you do one the other way around? Thank you ❤️

Read on AO3

Chloe was tired. Frustrated. Burned out.

She felt like the Bellas and classes for college were taking everything from her, and she was running on empty.

She was feeling almost claustrophobic in the Bellas house, so tried to spend as much time away as she could without raising questions.

The Bellas trusted her to lead them to victory at the Worlds in a few months, and she couldn’t let them down.

They were relying on her, she couldn’t let them know she was cracking.

That she was breaking.

She should have known there was one person who she couldn’t hide this from.

It was late one night when she was sat staring at an almost empty word document on her laptop, her eyes burning with exhaustion, her head throbbing, when she heard a quiet knock at her bedroom door.

“Yeah?” She said, her voice a little rough. She coughed to clear her throat, and turned to see Beca standing in her doorway. “What’s up?”

“You doing okay?”

“Yeah?” Chloe said, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“It’s 2 am,” Beca said. “Not exactly typical Chloe Beale hours.”

Chloe looked at her watch. She hadn’t realised it had gotten so late. “I, uh, must have lost track of time. I’m trying to write this paper but,” she cleared her throat again, “I’m having some trouble.”

Beca stepped further into the room and looked over Chloe’s shoulder at the screen.

“When is it due?” Beca asked.

“Tomorrow,” Chloe said. “Or… today I guess.”

Beca nodded. “Okay,” she said. “What do you need?”

“What do I need?”

“You want water and some aspirin I’m guessing,” Beca said. “Do you want coffee? Maybe a snack?”

“Uh…”

“I’ll be right back,” Beca said, leaving Chloe sitting, her mouth half open mouthed in confusion.

Beca was back in five minutes holding two mugs of coffee, a bottle of water tucked under her arm and a bag of chocolate coated pretzels held between her teeth.

Chloe’s favourite.

Beca placed the mugs on Chloe’s desk, followed by the bottle of water and the pretzels, before digging in her pocket for the strip of aspirin pills.

“Thank you,” Chloe said, worried she was about to cry. She took two aspirin and gulped down half the bottle of water. “How did you know I had a headache?”

Beca shrugged. “You always get headaches when you concentrate too hard.” She sat on Chloe’s bed, her back against the headboard. “Come take a break.”

“Bec I have like eight hours to finish this,” Chloe said.

“Come take a break. You’re not gonna get any further with it if you just keep staring at the screen like that.” Beca tapped the spot on the bed beside her, and Chloe gave in and joined her.

She was never very good at saying no to Beca.

“Thank you for this,” Chloe said, taking a sip of the coffee, smiling because Beca knew how she took it.

“No problem,” Beca said. “How come you left your paper so last minute?”

“I dunno,” Chloe said, taking another sip. “I kinda forgot about it. I kept putting it off.”

“Do you think you can get it done tonight?”

“I have to,” Chloe said. “As long as I don’t fall asleep at the keyboard, I should be okay.”

Beca laughed. “I’ll just throw a pretzel at you every time you nod off.”

“Are you going to stay here all night?” Chloe said, laughing too.

“Why else do you think I made myself a coffee?” 

Chloe turned to look at her, and realised she wasn’t joking. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know,” Beca said. 

Chloe couldn’t help but smile. She leaned in and kissed Beca on the cheek, before moving back to sit at her desk. 

“You’re not just gonna sit and watch me, are you? I’ll get performance anxiety,” Chloe said.

“No,” Beca replied, laughing. “I’m gonna go grab my laptop, I’ll be right back.”

When Beca returned, laptop in hand, Chloe was typing quickly. Her notes were spread over the rest of her desk, and she kept pausing to look at them. Her finger would trace down the page until she found a quote she was looking for, and then she’d carrying on typing. 

They didn’t speak for a while. Chloe seemed to be on a roll but Beca was facing her own block.

It was the reason she’d even been up at 2 am in the first place.

A music producer wanted to hear what she had to offer, and Beca had been terrified to discover that she had absolutely nothing original to say.

To her, making mixes was as easy as breathing. She heard music in a way that not many other people did. She could deconstruct and rebuild songs with ease. She could combine them and remake them without any doubt or fear.

But to create something new? To make something out of nothing? That, she was discovering, she couldn’t do. If making mixes was like breathing, this was like breathing underwater.

She just couldn’t do it.

“I’m gonna need a vacation after this,” Chloe mumbled after a while.

Beca laughed, still staring at the empty track on her laptop.

“What are you working on?” Chloe asked.

“Nothing,” Beca replied, looking up. “How are you getting on?”

“Maybe halfway?” Chloe said. 

“That’s great,” Beca said, smiling. “Do you need another coffee?”

“No, I’m good thanks Becs,” Chloe said. “Let me hear what you’re working on?”

“It’s nothing,” Beca said. “Having a bit of a creative block so there’s nothing to hear. Anyway, don’t let me distract you, you were on a roll before.”

“Okay,” Chloe said, frowning slightly. She turned back to her laptop and carried on typing.

Beca sank back against the headboard, and closed out the music program. 

“Where would you go?” She asked after another period of silence, the only sounds coming from Chloe’s keyboard.

“Huh?” Chloe asked, rubbing her eyes, clearly exhausted.

“If you went on vacation, where would you go?”

“I dunno,” Chloe said. She thought for a minute. “I guess… I kinda miss the sea.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Chloe said. “The sea makes me feel… calm. When I was a teenager and I’d have a bad day, I’d just go for a walk on the beach and it always made me feel better.”

“Okay,” Beca said.

“Shame there’s no beach near here, huh?” Chloe asked before she carried on typing.

“Yeah,” Beca said, already pulling Google maps up on her laptop. 

Chloe finished her paper at 5:30, the sound of her closing her laptop lid in triumph waking Beca from her nap.

“You did it?” Beca asked, rubbing her eyes.

“I did it,” Chloe said, smiling. “Thank you for keeping me company.”

“No problem,” Beca said, laughing slightly as she realised she’d spent the last hour asleep. 

Chloe climbed into bed beside her, relieved she now had one less thing to worry about.

“Do you want me to go?” Beca asked.

“No,” Chloe said. “Do you want to go?”

“Not really,” Beca replied. “Do you want me to set an alarm?”

“I don’t have any classes tomorrow,” Chloe said.

“Me neither.”

As Chloe got comfortable, Beca began typing something into her laptop.

“What are you doing?”

Beca hit enter, and the soft sounds of the ocean started playing through the speakers.

“I can do some seagull impressions too if you want?”

Chloe laughed, and pulled Beca close to her, her arms wrapping around Beca’s waist. 

“Dork,” she said, smiling.

“Rude,” Beca replied, also smiling.

“Do you wanna talk about the creative block thing?” Chloe asked, trying not to let her eyes close.

“Not right now,” Beca said. “It’ll pass, don’t worry.”

“I can’t help but worry,” Chloe said, cuddling Beca tighter.

“I know,” Beca replied. “But you worry too much. You worry about everyone. Everything. You’re not allowed to worry about this too.”

“Bossy.”

Beca laughed, and felt Chloe’s breath tickle her neck as she laughed too.

“Go to sleep weirdo.”

——

A few days later, Beca knocked on Chloe’s bedroom door again.

“Come in.”

Beca entered, and saw Chloe sitting on her bed, still in her work-out gear, unlacing her running shoes.

Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was in a messy ponytail, strands sticking to her face.

Beca forgot for a moment why she had entered the room. 

Post-work-out Chloe always distracted her.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Beca asked.

“It’s Saturday, we have an all day rehearsal,” Chloe said, confused at how Beca could have forgotten this.

Beca bit her lip, trying not to grin too hard. “We had an all day rehearsal. Can you be up and ready for like 7 am tomorrow? And make sure you pack like warmish clothes. Enough for one day and night.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You wanna vacation or not?”

——

Beca was half asleep at the kitchen table when Chloe got downstairs at 6:45 the next morning. 

“Ready?” Beca asked with a yawn.

“Are you gonna tell me where we’re going?”

Beca smiled but shook her head.

“Come on,” Beca said, standing up. “Your chariot awaits.”

“My chariot?”

“My dad’s Toyota, same thing.”

——

They drove for almost five hours before Chloe spotted the sea, and the squeal of delight was like music to Beca’s very tired ears.

It was another hour before they reached their Airbnb for the night, and then, hand-in-hand, they walked to the beach.

It was mostly deserted and the beach itself seemed to be more pebbles and stones than the sand Chloe had grown up with, but she didn’t care.

She could feel the sea air making its way through her. Shaking out all the creases and blowing away all the cobwebs.

She felt like she could finally breathe for the first time in months. She didn't feel the crushing responsibility of school and the Bellas anymore.

The smell of the sea was like home, and the sound of it was more comforting than she could explain.

It wasn’t a rough sea, but the soft sound of the water being pulled back across the rocks, before rushing forward up and onto the beach seemed to empty her head of every negative thought.

“Thank you,” Chloe said, softly, squeezing Beca’s hand. “I needed this.”

“You know you can tell me when you’re struggling, right? I know you feel like you need to keep it together for the rest of the Bellas… Like you need to be strong and calm all the time, but you don’t. At least not with me. We’re co-captains, remember? Partners. We’re supposed to share the load, and I feel like you’ve been carrying mine this year.”

“I just… I don’t want to fail. I don’t want to let everyone down. If we don’t win… If the Bellas have to disband after this year… They’re my home, Beca. My family. I can’t lose that.”

“You won’t lose it,” Beca said. “No matter what happens, we’re still family. Nothing will change that.”

“Even if we lose? Even if this legacy that’s existed for years and years has to stop? Because of me?”

“Not because of you. This isn’t all on you,” Beca said, brushing away one of Chloe’s tears. “Chloe, we’re all still in this because we’re a family, you know that right? We’re not here to win trophies and titles, we’re here because we like being together. We like singing and hanging out and living together.”

Chloe laughed softly and another tear fell. “The girls are all working so hard and-”

“-for you,” Beca said. “They’re working hard because they can see how much it means to you. They don’t care about winning, not really, not deep down. They just don’t want to let you down. They love you. I… I love you, Chloe.”

Chloe swallowed and more tears fell. She turned to look back out to the sea, waiting for the sounds to calm her again, but her heart was pounding too hard for that to happen.

Beca didn’t know whether she should be freaking out or not, but Chloe’s hand was still in hers, so that hard to be a good sign. It grounded her enough to keep on talking.

“Whatever happens at the Worlds, it won’t change anything. We’ll still always be the Bellas. We’ll still be Beca and Chloe. I’ll still be in love with you,” Beca said. “And you don’t need to say that back, if you don’t feel the same. But I wanted you to know. To me, you’ll never be a failure, or a disappointment.”

There was a silence between them that, to Beca at least, felt like it lasted a lifetime.

She didn’t understand how Chloe didn’t know how much they all loved her.

How much she loved her.

The silence stretched on, punctuated by the sounds of seagulls and waves crashing. 

Beca might have found it relaxing, if her stomach wasn’t busy tying itself in knots.

She was sure of one thing though, and that was that she didn’t regret what she’d said.

She knew she’d never regret telling Chloe that she loves her.

“Beca,” Chloe’s voice broke slightly, and she coughed to clear it. “Beca, I never thought… I’d almost given up…”

“On what?”

“On us. On us being more than friends. And don’t get me wrong, Beca. I love being friends with you. Your friendship is everything to me. But… But I always wanted… I always hoped we would have more.”

“Me too,” Beca said. “It’s not too late for that, right?”

“No,” Chloe said, smiling and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Never.”

“Cool,” Beca said, grinning. “Can I kiss you?”

Chloe nodded, and closed her eyes at the feeling of Beca’s hands cupping her face. 

When their lips met, Chloe thought her heart was going to burst out of her chest.

“No more shouldering this alone, okay?” Beca said, their eyes closed, foreheads touching.

“Okay,” Chloe said.

“We’re a team.”

“Yeah,” Chloe said, not knowing if she wanted to laugh or cry. “God, I love you. I love you so much, Beca.”

“I love you too.”

[shadow-assassin-blix]

If I Can’t Have You

Will Miller x Reader/You

Song fic. Continuing the Shawn Mendes theme. Benny and Santi will come out this week hopefully. Uhh. This went a slightly different direction than what I had planned... Oh well. The song...sorta fits. It’s been an odd day writing this. Mentions of creepy stalkery dude. Shitty ex fiancé and terrible family. Mentions of nightmares/night terrors, nothing detailed just mentioned

Taglist: @mikeisthricedeceased​ (Let me know if ya wanna be tagged)

I'm in Toronto and I got this view

But I might as well be in a hotel room, yeah

Will Miller kept himself to a pretty precise schedule. He was not one to deviate from it. Numbers brought him comfort. The guys liked to tease him about it, but they also knew it was coping mechanism that Will developed while they were enlisted. It was an odd habit, true, but numbers were something he could always rely on.

Currently, it was 7:00pm on a Friday night, and he was at his usual bar, having his usual drink. He wasn’t usually one to stick around for more than one drink. But this night, something changed. He noticed you, when you took a seat near him. Usually, he doesn’t pay attention to the women who walk in, but something in your demeanor caught his eye.

He noticed your hands were shaky and you were glancing over your shoulder a lot.

His gaze slowly drifted toward where you were looking and he noticed a guy outside, looking around.

“Are you okay?” He quietly asked, trying not to startle you.

You glanced at him, slightly jumping, and whispered, “That guy has been following me for 10 minutes.”

He frowned at that, and slowly moved to the seat next to her. “Pretend you know me, or that we’re dating. I’ll wait with you until he’s gone. The name’s Will by the way.”

You tell him your name and felt strangely safe next to this stranger. Maybe it was the way that he spoke, his voice slightly gravelly. Or maybe it was the way that he positioned himself to hide you and keep you out of sight of the door.

He sat with you for well over an hour, just talking. He even walked you back to your car, which was a good 10 blocks over.

“You walked this far from your car to get away from that guy?” He asked concerned.

“Kinda. I was about 3 blocks away from it when I noticed him, and I diverted my path. Didn’t think I would get stalked, would’ve worn better shoes,” You lightly joked looking down at your high heels.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” He apologized as they stopped next to your car.

“Umm. I hope this isn’t inappropriate but uhh… can I get your number? Ya know… in case I need protection again?” You shyly asked with a small smile.

Will chuckled and nodded his head. They exchanged numbers and parted ways.

It doesn't matter 'cause I'm so consumed

Spending all my nights reading texts from you

It’s been well over 2 months since that time, and the two of you have texted each a lot. Flirting has been heavy, and you even had a couple of dates together. Will felt extremely content and he felt happy. His brother, who noticed just how much happier Will has been acting and has been trying to get Will to spill the beans for weeks. Benny even got Frankie and Santi in on the investigation.

Will was able to hold them off for a time. That is… until one night. You had gone a date and wound up back at his place for some… extracurricular activities. It was about 2am and the both of you were passed out when you heard a phone ringing.

You reached out blindly, to answer it, thinking it was your phone.

“Hello?” Your voice was hoarse from earlier.

“Umm. Hello sexy voice, where’s Will?” Came a teasing voice.

Your eyes widen in mild horror as you jerked the phone away to look at the caller ID: Pope.

But the horror washed away as you noticed the time.

“Pope? Is this a life-or-death situation?” You calmly asked once your put the phone back to your ear.

“Uhh. No?” He answered hesitantly.

“Then call back at normal hours,” You told him hanging up.

When you told Will about it in the morning he laughed. Especially when the guys asked about Sexy Voice and when they were going to meet you. He shook his head at them and told he’d introduced you when he was ready to.

I'm so sorry that my timing's off

But I can't move on if we're still gonna talk

It happened slowly. You’ve been together now almost 7 months. Will wasn’t talking to you as much. He honestly sounded exhausted every time you spoke. When you did see him, you could tell he hadn’t slept much. You tried to subtly ask what was wrong and he would simply wave it off.

Will wouldn’t admit it, but he was having nightmares. Nightmares about his tours. Nightmares about you. About not being to save you. He knew his nightmares often led to night terrors and he didn’t want you to see that. He didn’t want to risk hurting you fighting off invisible demons.

This led to arguments… over everything. One day, he went to go for a run to cool down after yet another argument. You looked at his phone, biting your lip. You had yet to meet his brother or his friends, but you needed to understand what was going on.

You looked for Benny in his contacts and gave him a call on your phone.

“Hi… is this… is this Benny Miller?” You asked hesitantly hoping this was the right number.

“Yeah. Who’s this?” Came a hyper voice.

You introduced yourself, mentioning you were Will’s girlfriend.

“Oh. OH! Sexy Voice. How you doin’? Why ya callin me sweetness?” He asked excitedly.

You quickly explain what’s been going on, and Benny listened intently.

“He.. he has nightmares… and sometimes they become night terrors. If he’s acting like that, then it’s because he’s scared he’s going to hurt you. So… he’s trying to push you away to protect you,” Benny slowly explained.

“…that idiot,” You muttered softly. “Excuse me. I have to go knock some sense into your brother when he gets back.”

“Good luck, maybe next time we can speak in person, yeah?” Benny offered with a laugh.

“Sounds good to me. Bye,” You hung up, and began to pace, trying to figure out what you were going to say.

Is it wrong for me to not want half?

I want all of you, all the strings attached

Will returned from his run 40 minutes later. He berated himself the entire time. The argument was so stupid he didn’t even know what it was over. He did know… he owed you an apology. As he walked inside, he noticed that you had bought Chinese food and had it set up on the coffee table. There was a glass of wine and a beer waiting as well.

He looked around for you and saw you standing in the kitchen, getting utensils out.

“Hi,” You greeted simply.

You set the utensils down before walking over to him. You stood in front of him, arms crossed.

“I’m tired of fighting. I… I talked to Benny. He told me you have nightmares. Night terrors even. Why… why didn’t you say anything?” You asked wanting to understand.

He looked down at the floor, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Because… you didn’t sign up to be with a man who has PTSD and could harm you while he slept,” He confessed quietly.

“Strange… cause.. I feel like I did. I want to be with you. The good, the bad. I’m with you cause I like all of you. Not… parts of you. You told me early on some of the issues you’ve had while back in civilian life. We’ve been together for seven months baby. If I wasn’t all in, I would have left quite some time ago,” You assured him as you stepped closer, placing your hands on his chest.

“I just don’t you to regret being with me,” Will admitted as his hands took hold of yours.

“I won’t. Let’s go eat, yeah? Also… may have promised to meet your brother soon,” You stated with a smile.

Oh, I'm good at keepin' my distance

I know that you're the feelin' I'm missing

You’ve been together a year now, and you finally met Benny, Santi, and Frankie. They are all such dorks, but you can tell they love each other. It made you a bit envious to see their makeshift family. You yourself, hadn’t spoken to your family in years. You had cut ties with them long ago. Will asked about it, but you could never bring yourself to explain it.

It was the holidays, and you were trying to grin and bear it. It didn’t help that your family was blowing up your phone left and right with 100 messages on facebook. Then there was the invitation to the family get together that came in the mail. Will watched as you stare at it blankly before ripping it to pieces. He didn’t ask about it as you then came over to him and curled up in his lap. He just held you close.

Later that night, as the two of you laid in bed, you told him what happened.

“I was engaged… and my sister… slept with my would-be husband… on the day of our wedding,” You began. “And… everyone was strangely surprised when I called off the wedding. Acting like I should’ve been okay with it??”

“Wow,” He said lowly, surprised.

“I threw the antique jewelry and rings he gave me into Boston Harbor, blocked everyone who gave me shit for it, and moved as far away as I could. That’s… that’s how I wound here. Was looking for a fresh start… well. Another fresh start. I moved several times trying to get away from my family. I figured here… no one would look for me. Got a job. Met you. I’m happy,” You further explained sighing a few times.

“I’m glad I make you happy especially cause you make me happy too. How about… we spend Christmas away from here? Go wherever you want?” Will offered turning on his side to look at you.

“Really? So… if I said Italy? We’d go?” You asked excitedly.

Will reaches over and grabs his phone. A few texts and phone calls later, he declared, “We leave the 20th, and we will be back by the 29th. Enough time to be back for New Years. Benny would never forgive us if we missed his annual party.”

You squealed happily and kissed him.

You know that I hate to admit it

But everything means nothin' if I can't have you

A few weeks later found the two of you in a hotel, in Italy. It was Christmas Eve, and you were watching Christmas movies, eating junk food. Halfway through White Christmas, your phone went off. You looked down to see it was your sister trying to video call you on facebook. You paused the movie, situating yourself so Will wasn’t in the frame just yet, before you answered.

“What do you want?” You asked not caring if you sounded rude.

“Wow. So testy. You’re not still mad about me sleeping with Derek, are you?” Your sister asked smugly.

“No. I’m not. But you’re ruining my Christmas Eve with your presence. What do you want?” You asked again unimpressed.

You could hear your parents ask who your sister was talking to and you hear one of them tell her to put you on the big screen. You rolled your eyes and plastered a fake smile as the screen switched to show you the entire family in the living room.

“Hey sweetie! We miss you, why didn’t you come down to see us?” Came your mom’s voice.

“I made other plans. Why does it matter? You haven’t asked me to a family get together in years. Why should I drop everything for this one event?” You questioned rolling your eyes.

You picked up a chocolate covered pretzel and was eating it when you heard a voice tell you, “Really shouldn’t be eating that. It’ll make you fat.”

Your eyes slowly looked at the screen and you spotted him.

“Derek. I see you haven’t crawled back into the sewer you came from. And I will eat whatever the hell I want,” You snarled at him, wishing he was in front of you so you could strangle him.

“Derek and Lydia are getting married. That’s why we wanted you to come. To get over this tiff between you guys,” Your mother chimed in.

You stared at them in disbelief. You looked at Will your eyebrow raised and mouthing ‘are they for real?’ Will was trying not to laugh.

“Can’t. I’m in Italy. So. Too bad. I hope you two are miserable together,” You wished with a bitter smile.

“Italy? Yeah right. I’d bet you are home, alone, pigging out on food to make yourself feel better,” Your sister, Lydia, assumed acting very conceited.

You then gently, turned the camera to show off your view to the right which had the Colosseum in the distance. Then turned it to the left to show off Will, who gave a small wave.

“Uh huh. Buh-bye,” You ended the call as soon as you saw the looks of shock.

The two of you looked at each other and began to laugh. You continued your evening without any more interruptions.

I'm trying to move on

Forget you, but I hold on

Everything means nothing

You two get home with very little issue. You got ready for Benny’s New Years Eve party and were stacking up presents and food in Will’s truck when someone tapped you on your shoulder. You turned around and were horrified to see Derek standing there.

“What the hell do you want? How did you even find me? Why are you here, you creep?” You fired off questions left and right as panic grew.

“Got the address from your parents when they mailed you the invite. Listen. I just want to talk. That’s it,” Derek tried to explain.

Will at that point, walked out with the last of the presents and such. He looked at Derek, then at you. He quietly put the items in the truck. Then stood in front of you.

“You have exactly 10 seconds, to get back into your car and drive away,” Will warned, arms crossed as he glared at Derek.

“This has nothing to do with you, move,” Derek demanded trying to push Will out of the way.

Will didn’t even budge. He stood there, quietly counting. When he reached zero, precisely at the exact moment Derek tried to throw a punch at him, he sighed. Will grabbed the fist that came at him, and quickly threw a right hook out. The punch knocked Derek to the ground. Police were called, and when Derek tried to claim he was assaulted, Will pointed out the security camera that he had installed. Followed by the video that showed Derek escalated the situation. Derek was arrested and you and Will continued to the party.

I can't write one song that's not about you

Can't drink without thinkin' about you

Will pulled up to Benny’s place and asked you if you were okay. You nodded your head, pressing a kiss to his lips, thanking him.

You made your way up to the party, and after explaining what happened, the boys began trying to distract you and make you laugh by telling stories. Frankie asked at one point if you would like to hold his daughter because “She can make anyone smile.”

You said sure and was currently talking gibberish with her.

Will kept an eye on you as he took a drink, while Santi checked to make sure he didn’t bust his hand.

“That prick really showed up at your house? He’s lucky you weren’t armed,” Santi noted with disgust.

“I didn’t mention this to her, but the cop told me he had warrants out on him for stalking and harassment. He won’t be bothering her again for a long time,” Will informed him as he took drained the last of his beer.

“Good. She’s a good one, don’t mess it up yeah?” Santi joked, hitting him on the chest.

“Think it’s too soon to ask her to marry me?” He murmured to him.

“If you don’t, I will,” Santi dared him.

Will shook his head at Santi, who was urging him forward.

Will quietly picked up Frankie’s baby girl and whispered to her, “You can come back to her in a moment. I gotta borrow her.”

Will takes you outside to the balcony.

“You..uh. You havin fun baby?” He asked awkwardly.

“Yeah… what’s up? You’re acting odd,” You noted staring at him confused.

“Listen. I know we’ve only been together a year… and I love you… a lot… You consume my thoughts. I’m crazy for you… So, I was wondering… will you marry me?” He asked stumbling over his words.

You stared at him surprised. Biting your lip, you give your answer, “Yes. On the condition that the engagement is a long one, and we don’t rush anything.”

“I can deal with that, beautiful,” Will accepted the condition with a relieved sigh. “I haven’t gotten a ring yet, but I wanted you to know… that I’m in this for the long haul. You mean everything to me.”

The two of you kissed and broke apart, laughing, as you hear the cheers coming from inside.

“I’m all in if you are?” Will asked in a whisper.

“My life was going nowhere fast, then I met you, and my life got significantly better. So, yeah. I’m all in,” You whispered back.

The two of you headed inside to enjoy the party. Neither of you expected your lives to lead to this but neither of you would change a thing. The two of you founded each other when you both needed it, and that’s all that matters now.

Is it too late to tell you that

Everything means nothing if I can't have you?

[into-the-stratosphere]

Sweeney Todd: Revisted

Lol I can’t post this on any of my other socials just yet because the official cast list hasn’t been posted, but my tumblr isn’t linked to my Instagram or Facebook or anything like that, so I felt I could safely post here without getting in trouble. Warning now that this is a LONG post because I overwrite a lot lol

If you’ve been following me a while, you might remember last spring I was supposed to be in a production of Sweeney Todd as a soloist/ensemble member. We got through about a month and a half of rehearsals before everything was shut down by Covid, but the company kept promising we would do the show once everything opened up again, just a little while longer and we’ll do it, we’re pushing for October instead of May, this is going to happen. Honestly, once we hit the school year and no updates had come, I thought this would have to be a show I shelved until an entirely new production came up- until April this year we got an email asking who was still interested in returning.

Somehow we had gotten approval to move forward with the show again after all, and we were being moved to a larger space to accommodate a larger audience to boot! But with the new dates and location, naturally some cast members had to step down from their roles due to conflicts. In fact, pretty much the entire main cast had to step down; our Sweeney had moved in October, our Beggar Woman wasn’t comfortable coming back to live theatre just yet, Mrs Lovett would be on her honeymoon during the new show dates, our main Johanna would be working a new job further away, a lot of our younger cast was going to college out of state, like our Anthony and I believe both Toby’s.

In the initial email we were told that if we were willing to return, we could keep our roles and not have to reaudition, but as roles opened up we were also given the option to audition for the new openings. Our understudy Johanna was returning, so I figured they would bump her up into the main role, and I hoped I could squeeze in and maybe get the understudy spot this year, since last year I hadn’t made the cut for Johanna at all. I picked my music (Soon from A Little Night Music if anyone was wondering) and my monologue (fairly certain they wanted monologues just to hear that we could do accents because the audition listing said they preferred we did our monologue in accent), and set to preparing again to hopefully have a shot at Johanna this year.

A friend I met doing virtual shows was also auditioning, and when she mentioned she heard the new director didn’t want to have any understudies for the main cast, I grew worried, remembering our understudy Johanna said she was returning. Since I didn’t know how the director would go about distributing promised roles regarding understudy positions, I continued to prepare to the best of my ability with the slim hope I might get Johanna, but that hope was fading with the knowledge of the former understudy’s return.

A few days before the audition however, she posted in our private group that she too would have to step down, as she had just gotten accepted into her dream school and would be out of state during the production’s run. Suddenly the grey area barring me from Johanna dissipated, and all I had to worry for now was the new auditioning pool- this was one of the first in person shows to open in our area since the lockdown, so there was bound to be a lot of new faces trying to get back into the game.

I went in on Sunday feeling far more prepared than I did last year (I almost didn’t audition last year because I had only just gotten my voice back from a horrible flu strain), and funnily enough, my friend I had met doing virtual shows had signed up for the same time bracket as me without either of us knowing. Entering the audition room, I immediately felt good; everyone had such a welcoming atmosphere, the director was friendly as could be, but I could also tell he was very professional. I performed the best I could, waited for my friend to finish her audition afterwards, then we went to go talk and catch up while desperately waiting to possibly get a callback.

We chatted for hours about theatre, our virtual theatre group, life, all while keeping a vigilant eye on the time for when that day’s auditions would end and calls would be made. Eventually we both decided to go home, wishing each other the best and hoping to see each other again at callbacks.

I was only halfway home when my phone rang; they loved my audition and wanted me to come in on Tuesday to read for Johanna at callbacks. I was so excited that I started crying behind the wheel, and from the way my phone was blowing up with messages from my friend, I knew she had gotten a callback as well.

Luckily they asked me to prepare Green Finch and Linnet Bird for the callback, because I have known the song for about two years now- I had put it in my audition book about a month before my Sydney trip in 2019, and the hope to perform it in the original production had been the reason I auditioned in 2020 in the first place. I found out there was two other girls they were looking at for Johanna, so I worried day and night that what if they already knew the song too, what if their resumes were better than mine, what if I cracked, what if, what if, what if…

Tuesday came and I could only hope I’d get another burst of energy after a long day at work. I showed up about forty five minutes early (the drive usually took about half an hour, but the traffic had been forgiving), hearing snippets of the Anthony’s and Beggar Woman’s upstairs, and then the first of the other two Johanna’s showed up. She was so nice, and with time the second Johanna showed up. We all chatted as the Sweeney’s, and Beggar Woman’s came down, and soon enough, they were calling the Johanna’s to head upstairs.

The Anthony’s were still upstairs when we got there, certainly so we could read our audition scenes together. The director explained we’d be singing our song first (ALL of Green Finch, since there’s no good natural spot to stop in the song), and then taking turns reading with both Anthony’s. Since I volunteered to go first, the director said he’d let me go a second time after the other two girls, that way I could adjust any slip ups since I was basically test running the sound and space for the other two girls. The speaker was as loud as it could go, but once I started singing I quickly realized that I drowned out the music and couldn’t hear my accompaniment anymore, so I relied on my muscle memory of the flow of the song and my internal meter to get me through to the end. I only messed up on the trill before the final verse, it was so much longer than I anticipated, but I knew I’d be able to fix that after hearing the other two girls. Turns out the other two had only started looking at the song once they got called back, so I had an edge on having it memorized, but once I heard their voices I grew worried because they both had such beautiful tones, trying to react quickly to when they missed something in the music. I went through my second time, correcting my mistake with the trill (which all three of us made the same mistake there) and tweaking a few small things to my blocking, and then we were given a scene to read with the Anthony’s.

We would all get a turn with both Anthony’s to get a sense of chemistry, as well so we could all make adjustments (the director reminded us the context of the scene we were reading after we all finished with the first Anthony, and guided us on a better direction to what Johanna would be feeling in that moment for our second time through). I felt I really connected well with both Anthony’s, familiar with the scene and story so I wouldn’t have to be buried in my lines. It was during our read-throughs that I realized the other two Johanna’s were likely a few years older than me based on how they played her; more mature, more sure of themselves. I finished my second read-through, hopefully keeping to the context of the scene better than my first run-through, and we were all told that we could head home, that we’d be hearing from them in a day or two regarding final casting. Before I hit the door, the director paused me, asking if I still had my original script from the prior production. Heart pounding at the implications his question could be loaded with, I told them I did, and in fact I had it with me. “It felt like good luck to bring it,” I said, and they all laughed with me at lugging around a four hundred page script for luck.

When we got downstairs, the Johanna I was particularly worried about asked me if I studied opera, which I admitted I did have an associates degree for music. We all talked a while longer before they all headed out, and I sought my friend in the lobby to confide in her; I think I’ve got Johanna.

After talking with her a bit about our auditions, explaining how I thought I had an edge, I headed home, hardly able to sleep as I picked my audition apart in my head and awaited some kind of phone call.

The next day at work I jumped every time my phone buzzed, waiting to see if it was a call. When I was upstairs heating up my lunch, my friend asked if I had heard anything yet, mentioning how she and our Judge thought the director would start making calls after work. I assented- it made sense, plus it’s so much better to actually be able to receive the call than to come back to a voicemail about your casting.

As I waited in the hall for someone, my phone started buzzing with a call, and my heart rate shot up. It was still so early in the afternoon, not quite 3:30, and with everything I had knew was good about my audition, I allowed myself a flicker of hope. I knew I had a few minutes, so I quickly answered- and there was our director on the other side.

“Hi, is this Shelby? This is (director), from Sweeney Todd.” I responded back, asking how he was, trying not to lose my nerve. “I’m great, thanks for asking. We’re just starting to call everyone about casting, and we were just so impressed with your auditions, your first and your callback; we were interested if you’d be willing to accept the role of Johanna?”

I was trying not to cry on the phone as I excitedly responded YES, I would LOVE to play Johanna- I had wanted to play Johanna for a year and a half at this point, and here was my moment at last. After a few more logistical questions, he bid me a good day and hung up to call the rest of the main cast. I was just bubbling over with excitement, the first thing I did was message my friend that I’d gotten Johanna- she had found out the night before that she was going to be the Beggar Woman since she stayed late at callbacks to discuss a miscommunication with the director (she was accidentally twenty minutes late because her email had the wrong callback time listed, and when the director was made aware, she asked if she could sing again, and he said “we don’t need you to, we saw all we needed your first time through- you ARE the Beggar Woman”), then I messaged our Judge Turpin, who was one of the other few returning cast members.

My coworkers were all so excited for me, asking me when the show was going to be, that they’d all make a group to go see it together. When I got home, I tricked my parents into thinking I was still nervous about casting, saying “I don’t know, I’m just nervous… I mean, my first kiss is going to be on stage.” And when it clicked that I had gotten the part, my mom screamed and my dad laughed at my mischievousness at tricking both of them, congratulating me.

I’m still waiting on the go-ahead so I can post about this on my main socials, but I’ve just been so excited that I had to find a way to post it secretly somewhere, just so I wouldn’t burst at the seams holding this in. Our first rehearsal is in August, so my rehearsal stories series will be returning once those start (I theorized there’s a gap between auditions and first rehearsals because the cast has to be vaccinated for legal reasons, so the handful that aren’t can have time to get their vaccines).

For now, I get to wonder who my other fellow cast mates are, who my Anthony will be. Until then, if I cannot fly, let me sing 🕊 -Johanna (Shelby)

[wann-der-lusst]

Survived in the darkness of the tunnel

by Chabelita Alvarado

I woke up in the morning with the alarm clock. I quickly made a way in the hall to the bathroom. I did my usual routine in the morning and got ready to go to school.

I walked downstairs to eat a quick breakfast with mom and dad. Smiling to myself and munching on the last piece of bacon. I made a way down the sidewalk, the cold air stinging my cheeks, and towards the subway.

I was halfway through my walk to the subway station when my phone started vibrating in my pocket. I pulled out my phone, I saw a chat on messenger that came from my annoying best friend.

My best friend, Jane, just told me through chat that Wade Rivas was single. I couldn't help but roll my eyes. That's what she had to tell me?! As if I care.

Well, if there was one thing Jane would wake up this early for, it would be Wade Rivas. Tunasan High School's very own stereotypical badass who just happened to have every female in the school drooling at his feet, and unfortunately that included my best friend. I pity for Jane, poor thing.

I just chatted that "let's see each other at school and spill me the tea".

I slipped my phone back into my pocket smiling at my idiotic excuse for a best friend and looked up to see that I was at the subway station.

Sighing I found myself a seat towards the back as far away from everyone else as possible. I hated when I went out in public and the public was actually there.

It was only after I had sat down and was about to pull out my pair of headphones ready to expertly ignore everyone, that I realized who was sitting right across from me looking like someone had definitely had a bad day.

Sitting there, arms crossed, and dressed in a black hoodie and jeans, was none other than Wade Rivas.

I didn't realize I was staring at him that long until a pair of green eyes met mine, followed by the harshest glare I've received.

Embarrassed, I quickly averted my eyes and turned back to my phone and headphones. My embarrassment turned into curiosity though. Why was he riding the subway? The last time I checked he had a car.

I put my headphones in and played a song of All About You by Taeyeon. I tried to feed my wandering thoughts, and prepare for the thirty-minute ride.

I once glanced over at Wade. He was still staring at me. Although this time that confused expression was no longer on his face. Instead, it was replaced by an amused one.

I didn't buy to talk to him. We've been going to the same school for just about four years, and in all that Wade and I had never crossed paths.

To kill and waste some time, I approached him. "Why are you staring at me?"

"Weren't you just staring at me?" he said. Hmm. His voice, it made sense that many girls admire him.

"I'm not staring, I'm… just… not blinking." I protested.

He shook his head and fixed those eyes on me again.

"Then why were you 'not blinking' at me?

"Why do you care? You used to be girls staring at you." I said. Okay, I admitted that I am quite attractive to him.

"Of course I'm used to girls staring at me. I'm asking why you're staring at me. You don't even throw me a glance at school." Wade said.

That caught me off guard. I was an average girl in the school. So, he knew who I was? I had to remind myself that I didn't care whether he noticed me or not.

"I was just curious." I said bringing myself from my thoughts.

"About?" he prompted.

"Why are you here? Riding the subway I mean. Don't you have a car?"

"That's none of your business." He snapped as he turned to look in the other direction. Woah, a sudden change of his mood. I can't bear him, god.

Aha! He wasn't in a good mood because of his ex. Now I know. I decided to take pity on him. "I'm sorry, I just heard about your, uhm, break up?" I said with sympathy.

"What are you doing Chayo? Why are you trying to be nice?" he said.

Now that really shocked me. I wasn't pretending! It wasn't like I was a mean person. I was nice all the time. Or at least I thought I was. Second thing, I'm shocked he knew my name. We were not uttering a single word to each other through high school and this our first time to casually talk.

"What do you mean, why am I trying to be nice?" I asked, a little offended.

"I mean we haven't said so much as one word to each other throughout high school. Why are you talking to me now? Let alone trying to be nice to me? If I'm not wrong, I was under the impression that you couldn't stand me. If it's just cause you feel for me, don't." he said while completely facing me.

My mouth actually dropped open. What kind of reputation was going around about me?

"It's not that I can't stand you. It's just that I wasn't about to drool at your feet just so I could get a chance to talk to you". I said.

Wade was silent for a moment as he seemed to think this over.

"I don't know why I'm even telling you this, but as crazy as it sounds Amber was the first girl I was really serious about. I mean there was a girl before that but that had about a snowball's chance in hell of happening."

"What? There was a girl that The Wade Rivas didn't have a chance with? I need to meet her and shake her hand." I said, teasing him about that.

First time, we talked like a friend. We'd finally talked and on a subway of all places, kinda strange. However, we were comfortable with each other.

Our conversation interrupted when the subway train suddenly came to stop. The awkward and embarrassing filling caused my body sway to the left and body bumped into Wade's and seeing as my hands were currently shoved into my pockets, I couldn't brace myself for it. So, instead Wade ended up with his hands placed on my arms to keep me from toppling over face first into his lap.

My face heated up. It looked like a tomato.

My moment of embarrassment was changed in fear. Our light mood ended abruptly when the subway doors suddenly slid open and instead of passengers boarding, five masked and hooded figures made their way inside.

They were all wearing dark jeans and hoodies that concealed their faces. Each one carried a black duffle bag. Flirt out of the five figures silently made their way into the other cars leaving just one behind. The lone figure stood in the middle of the subway car and dropped the duffle bag with a loud thud, gaining the attention of all the other passengers.

Silently, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a black handgun.

Screams erupted all around me as everyone laid their eyes on the weapon. I sighed in fear, I couldn't believe that this was happening.

I felt the train begin to move again and I let my eyes wander to the left, trying to see through the window into the next car.

I observed all the passengers, they were all afraid. Screams were still ringing out around me and I had to suppress the urge to yell for everybody to shut up.

A gunshot rang throughout the small space causing me to almost jump out of my seat. My ears were ringing and when I looked up to the figure holding the gun in the air with their index finger wrapped around the trigger.

Everyone was silent now.

"Now that I have your attention I'd like to properly introduce myself." The figure pulled off the hood that had been covering their head and face, revealing a creepy flesh colored mask with holes cut out for the eyes and mouth and a shaggy mess of short greasy black hair on top of his head. When he spoke his voice was muffled by the mask but nonetheless I could still hear that it was deep and rough, like a smoker's voice.

"You can call me Rad." He continued.

I frowned at that. What kind of a criminal introduces themselves to their victims? I mean I doubted that if I made it out of this alive and went to the police that they'd have someone named Rad in the system, but still.

"Now first thing first, we need to get a few things straight. Any of you scream again, you die. Simple as that, understand?" He warned.

When no one answered, he shot the gun into the air again causing everyone to jump but no one screamed.

"I guess you all understand. This ride will go by a lot more smoothly if you all just cooperate." He added.

No one dared move suspicious. Wade and I kept our mouth to not say anything for our safety. Rad walked back and forth in the small confined space of the train car, switching the gun from his right hand, to his left, and then back again.

I wondered what he was doing exactly. If he was here to blow people's heads off then why wasn't he? I hated the fact that we were waiting here not knowing what would happen next. As if he could sense my impatience with him, Rad spun around and glared at me through his mask. Or at least I thought he was glaring at me, but I couldn't really tell with the mask on.

"You." Rad said pointing the gun at me.

I froze and clenched my hands into tight fists as I stared wide eyed, not at Rad, but at the barrel of the gun.

"What's your name?" Rad asked.

"Chayo." I said quietly.

"Chayo...Why don't you go ahead and stand up Chayo." Rad said kindly. I hated it when he say my name. I gave an involuntary shudder.

I was about to force myself to stand, even if it was against my better judgement, when I felt Wade grip my left hand, keeping me in my seat.

I glanced at Wade and gave him a questioning look.

"Why do you want her to stand?" Wade asked while narrowing his eyes.

I wanted to slap my hand over Wade's big mouth.

"I thought we already went through this. You don't speak… Unless. You're. Spoken. To." Rad ground out the last words slowly, and I doubted he would remind Wade.

"Wade please…" I begged quietly. I stood up even though I highly doubted it. "Obviously your girlfriend has more sense than you." Rad said while tilting his head to the side.

I almost opened my mouth to tell him that Wade was not my boyfriend, but I kept it shut. I wanted to live.

I slowly walked up to Rad and stood there, waiting.

Then I waited for more than two minutes. He said nothing, did nothing, just stood there staring at me. I couldn't keep my mouth shut anymore. He was making me anxious and when I became anxious I also got a really bad case of word vomit.

"Are we just going to stand here and stare at each other?"

After I regretted what I just said, my eyes instantly darted down to Rad's clenched fits and before I could look back at his masked face, I felt his hand connect with my jaw, hard.

The force of his punch made me bite down on my tongue as I stumbled back from the impact, my hand covering my jaw. The train car seemed like it was suddenly bathed in bright white lights, and I reached my free hand out to try and find something to steady myself. I could taste something metallic and salty which I knew had to be my own hold.

Wade approached me and gave an angered face to Rad.

"Well, aren't you two sweet? Trying to protect each other like that." Rad gave a dark chuckle before he jerked his head to the door leading into the next car.

"Move it, both of you, Now!" He ordered.

Still clutching the left side of my face I stumbled my way toward the door with Wade right behind me, one hand on my lower back and other on my arm, whether it was to keep me from falling flat on my face or just there to comfort me, I didn't know. All I was focused on was the pain which seemed to be everywhere in my face.

As Rad pushed us forward I wondered exactly what we'd gotten ourselves into. We'd continue to walk through the next two train cars.

Wade and I got shocked from what we witnessed in the next train car. The image of the knife swiping across the old man's neck and the gushing blood, was imprinted in my brain.

"Grandpa!" the little girl wailed and a chorus of horrified screams followed. She hopped out of her seat and ran to her grandpa before she sank to her knees next to him, his blood seeping into her white tights.

I stared, unable to move or breathe. I pressed the back of my hand to my mouth hard and bit down, trying to keep myself from throwing up.

I heard Rad chuckle darkly behind me before he began shoving at our backs again. When we had reached the front of the train where it was operated. Rad opened the door and I had to bite back a scream.

There on the floor was the conductor with a bullet bole i. the center of his head. I couldn't take much more of this.

Rad lifted the man up like he was nothing more than a rag doll and threw him out of the compartment where he landed with a loud thud, pointing the gun back at me and Wade.

"Get in." Rad ordered.

I walked inside slowly and my nose instantly wrinkled at the smell of blood. I looked ahead, out the front window of the train, as we sped past flickering light bulbs in the tunnel. I wondered where we were headed now.

Wade walked in behind me and I saw his face scrunch up as the smell of blood invaded his nose too.

"I'll be back to deal with you two later."

That was all Rad said before he closed us in and made his way back towards the back of the train.

As soon as the door closed, I pressed my back against the wall before I slid to the ground and pulled my knees to my chest.

This couldn't be happening.

Wade knelt down in front of me with his arms on his knees, and he stared at me intently.

"He just killed him." I whispered, shaking my head. "He didn't even flinch. He just slit his throat. Right in front of his granddaughter!" My voice rose and I think I was starting to hyperventilate. I was taking in quick shallow breaths and I started rocking back and front.

"Oh God, we're going to die. We're going to die." I was seriously starting to panic now. What would my parents do once they found out that I had been chopped up into a thousand little bite sized Chayo pieces? Then there was Jane. She'd probably take it worse.

Wade snapped his fingers in front of my face and broke me from my horrid thoughts.

He placed both of his hands on my knees and spoke very slowly, "We're not going to die. Okay?"

I looked back up at Wade and nodded slowly.

"Promise me then. Promise me that we won't die down here. Not like this." I said as I felt unexpected tears fill my eyes.

I didn't want to die. Not here. Not like this.

I watched him with a frown as he reached out and wiped a strat tear from my cheek before letting his warm hand rest there.

I didn't push his hand away like I told myself to. Instead, I welcome it, enjoying the brief comfort his touch brought me. I could use it right now.

"I promise." he said quietly.

I could only hope that he kept his promise.

I'm not sure how long I sat there. My imagination was running wild the longer we sat there. I imagined it might happen but my horrible thoughts scattered when the subway lurched and rumbled against the tracks.

"We're slowing down." Wade said.

The sound of the door sliding open behind us made me tear my gaze from the window and Rad who was standing in the doorway, his flesh colored mask and gaping black eye holes staring at me. A shiver ran down my spine.

Rad ordered us to follow him.

As we made our way through the subway cars I noticed that they were now all empty. I wanted to ask where everybody was but I was afraid of the answer I might get. So, I kept my mouth shut this time and kept moving.

We were on the last train car, Rad pushed us toward the exit doors which were already open.

We stepped out onto the old platform and my earlier question was instantly answered. All the people who had occupied the subway cars were now on the platform, all on their knees with their hands tied behind their backs with zip ties, set up in a line.

The one wearing a Jason Vorhees hockey mask stepped forward and tied our hands in our back. Jason Mask pushes us forward at the end of the line of subway passengers, where we got down on our knees and joined them.

"Now that you're all here, the real fun can!" Rad began with a clap.

A whimper and a sniffle came from my right and I glanced down the line of people and my eyes landed down on the same little girl from before. The little girl whose grandpa had been murdered right in front of her.

She was crying. I made myself a promise that I'll protect her.

I watched in silence as Rad and his band of masked began untying people and ushering them down onto the tracks of the

subway.

"Now this is how this is going to go," Rad began as he paced back and forth in front of the abandoned tracks. "The tracks from here on out are abandoned and farther down they break off into a bunch of unused subway tunnels. That's where you all are headed." He added.

"We're going to be playing a little game of hide and seek if you'd like to think of it that way. There's only one exit in one of these tunnels that leads up and out of the subway station but finding it will be like finding a needle in a haystack. If by some miracle though, you do happen to find this exit then you're home free... but if you don't," I could practically hear the smile in his voice. "And we get to you first then... well I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise now would I?"

Wade and I joined the group of passengers after the mask man untied the knots.

"You get two minutes, Two minutes and then the chase begins and you better hope like hell that we don't catch you" Rad warned everybody

"Why are you doing this?' A male voice demanded and that was Wade.

"I'm doing this to prove a point." Rad stated simply.

"What point?" Skater boy demanded.

"That I'm free to do whatever I please. You all live in this world thinking that you're safe, that you're protected. Well, you're not. Do you see anybody down here that'll give you as second glance if it means risking themselves?" Rad shook his head when the skater boy didn't respond.

"So, whoever is gonna survive through this game. Deliver the message to your pathetic police When they find all your dead bodies they'll see what a complete failure this entire system is." Rad added.

Rad glanced down at a watch that sat perched on his wrist.

"You have one minute and fifty-nine seconds" Rad said

As a cue, all the passengers started to run. I tried to scan the crowd for the little girl but people bumped into me and elbowed their way past trying to sprint ahead.

We kept running.

My legs were arching, my lungs were burning, and my head was spinning, all while I was running for my life.

As we continued running, my heart hammered furiously in my chest, and it felt like I was going to puke acid really soon.

I started slowing down and eventually I just stopped. I bent over with my hands on my knees trying to catch my breath.

Wade approached me and tried to motivate me to keep going. However, we heard an ear splitting scream echo down the tunnel. I turned to our back. I'm sure the group of masked men started to sue us.

Wade gently helped to keep half-running. I ignored the pain. We've reached the end of the track, we came to the tunnels that Rad had mentioned earlier. It was seven that all led off into different directions.

Wade and I agreed to pick the seventh tunnel. When we were inside, there were no lightbulbs, we couldn't see anything other than a pitch black.

We walked faster and carefully felt our tracks. My hands touched the wall of the tunnel and continued to walk.

Leading the track, Wade checked his phone but no signal to call police. However, we could use that as a flashlight.

Unluckily, the ground seemed to change, and I found myself free falling into the darkness. Wade yelled my name. My body smacked against the concrete. I cried out as bolts of searing hot pain jolted through every inch of my body. Tears filled my eyes instantly and spilled over as the pain took over. There was a horrible throbbing pain in the back of my head and an awful burning and ripping sensation in my side.

I heard the faint shuffling of footsteps and suddenly a bright light was shining in my water filled eyes.

"Shit!" I heard Wade's horrified whisper.

I couldn't even speak cause everything was hurt. Wade knelt down next to me. He sat his phone next to him letting the light create a small pool of illumination around us.

Wade said that he was going to help me. He began to lift the hem of my shirt. He slowly moved his hand upward until it rested just below my rib cage. And I felt an extreme amount of pressure on my ribs. There was an audible pop but I could barely hear it over the ear piercing scream that

was coming from my mouth. That was a great help, it had lessened considerably the pain before. A sheen of sweat covered my forehead as I breathed in and out rapidly.

Wade called my name with a worried and concerned face.

"I'm… still.. okay" I said through pants of breath. I blacked out.

I woke up cuddling with Wade. I'm literally surprised because I thought it was one of the psycho mask man. I could still feel the pain in my side. Wade told me that I was fell in manhole. One of my rib was dislocated.

"I'm grateful that you stuck around and helped me. It means a lot that you'd do that for me… and… and I'm sorry."

I jerked back a little when Wade whipped his head back so he could look at me, his eyes shining in the dim light of his cellphone.

I swallowed nervously and stared back at him, waiting for some kind of response. I froze when he reached up and pushed a damp piece of my hair behind my ear. My heart just about exploded when he let his hand linger on my face.

Didn't he know that there were people after us? Shouldn't we be running for our lives now?

I was ready to raise to slap his face when he got close enough to kiss me, but an ear splitting scream rang through the tunnel.

That scream scared me half to death in a panic, I jumped and slammed my head against Wade's.

I groaned in pain while rubbing my forehead and said to Wade that he had a hard head. Wade said that my head was exactly soft, teasing me.

"Did you hear that scream? Somebody could be in trouble." I said.

Wade just coughed and sounded like he was struggling to contain his laughter.

"Have you lost your mind? Those masked freaks could get to whoever that was and they could be headed this way right now." Wade explained.

I ignored his statement and tried to get up from sitting into his lap but he pushed me back to his.

"Please, Wade, I want to know who it was. Because it could be that little girl. She can't make it down here by herself. Hell, we can barely make it, so just imagine how she's doing. I have to find her Wade, so please don't try to stop me" I said.

Wade stared at me for seconds and stood up and then gently helped me to my feet. He grabbed my hand, shooking his head before he said "Let's go then, Wonder Woman."

Along our way, Wade and I talked nonsense. I've just realized that it was a mistake to find this little girl or who it was that did the screaming.

We've reached the end of the tunnel, but there was a large cavernous room. It was made of the same gray stone as the rest of the tunnels down here and jagged pieces of rock and pipe jutted up from the floor and hung from the ceiling. There were a few pale yellow flickering lanterns that cast an eerie glow across the large room, which meant someone had been here recently. Looking around, the room was empty.

"There's nobody here Chayo, we should head back and try and find our way out of here while we still can." Wade's voice rang out in an echo arout the vast room.

When I was to turn back to face Wade, the same shrill scream from earlier ran out behind me.

A black boots began to step forward, revealing black jeans and then a black hoodie before finally revealing a sheep masked figure.

"You two are just too easy." Sheep Mask drawled out, his voice slightly muffled by the mask.

I couldn't believe that we were fooled by this man. The scream that we heard was just recorded. The sheep mask currently holds the device where the scream came from and he pressed the button again to play the scream sound.

The Sheep Mask reached into the waistband of his dark jeans and pulled out a black handgun. The Sheep Mask pointed the gun to Wade but to my suprise, Wade was on top of him. Both of them struggled to gain control of the gun.

When the Sheep Mask started angling the gun towards Wade's chest, I rushed forward and brought my foot down as hard as I could on Sheep Mask's face.

Wade didn't wait for any second as the gun was on his hand. The Sheep Mask tried to scare them that we were going to die soon when Rad reached them. I faintly heard a loud crack and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Wade ram the butt of the gun into the side of Sheep Mask's face, then he shot the gun toward the head of the masked man.

Wade came to me and brought my head to his chest.

"We're not going to die here, Chayo. Do you understand? We're getting out of here," he promised. I hold on that promise.

I can't believe that we just killed the Sheep Mask man. I'm so mad to myself that we had to do that.

We've continued to search the exit. Wade leads the way, but his navigating skills sucks. When I led our way, it turns out that any navigating skills sucked a lot more than Wade's did. I ended up leading us right back to the spot where we started.

Apparently, Wade and I saw the same flurry of pink darts across the tunnel and into another one. I'm sure that was the little girl with the pink shirt that we tried to look for before.

We were not really sure but we decided to follow the girl from where the tunnel she ran through.

In turn of the event, someone grabbed me from the right. I saw Wade also dragged by another mask man. The piggy mask figure man that was covering my mouth by his hand, led me from somewhere. I was parted away from Wade. The last scene of him was fighting with the other mask man.

The Piggy Mask lifted his left foot and kicked open an old door that read "Employees Only".

The room looked like a place where electricians or repairmen would frequent with all the machinery inside.

The Piggy Mark man removed his mask as soon as he closed the door. It was Rad, the leader of the psycho mask group.

He grabbed my hair to go to another destination. There was a series of many lefts and rights before we finally came to his destination.

We went to another room. It was large and full of pipes in the ceiling. In the center of the room stood four, large, curved, gray pipes that jutted out from the floor and were pointed to the right wall.

There were three people handcuffed for those pipes. The strange man was handcuffed to the first one. The second one was the skater boy. The third one was the little girl that we've been looking for.

And for the fourth pipe, Rad cuffed me from the last pipe.

"W-why are you doing this?" I asked between my sobs.

"I already told you. The system already failed me once and now they're going to fail you. This is all to prove a point." Rad simply said. With that, he disappeared back down from the tunnel.

As soon as Rad was out of sight I slumped against the pipe before sliding to the ground. Anything I did was a failure to escape. I just dropped my head and think that this was how I'm going to die.

The first man in the pipe turned into red, burned, bloody and raw. The skin skin looked like it had been seared completely off and I could see the white of their bones poking out.

The skater boy started to scream, asking for help. The little girl started to cry and I had no idea what to do to comfort her.

I've heard a voice. "Chayo?!" Wade yelled out from somewhere. My head whipped up at the sound of his voice and directly look at his eyes.

He ran forward and bent down to hug her.

"How did you-,"

"You don't know how I fight that masked man but I'm relieved that I found you." Wade said.

"But I'm going to die here. The pipes. They shoot out hot steam and the man just got a face full of it." I explained.

Wade looked at the first pipe, his eyes widened and urged to fight to not throw up something.

Wade immediately pulled a trigger of his gum that pointed to her handcuffs but nothing happened.

Wade found two bobby pins into the hair of the little girl. He borrowed it from the girl and promised to help her.

I suggested to Wade to help first the skater boy and the little girl before me. Wade argued about it but he still did it. When Wade successfully unlocked the handcuffs to the skater boy, the skater boy moved forward to also help unlock the handcuffs on the little girl. Wade finished to get rid of the handcuffs to me before the steam of the pipes burned her.

We were successfully all safe, as of now.

The four of us continued to find the exit of this tunnel. Upon walking, we've talked in some conversations but stay alert. The skater boy named Dylan and the little girl named Rose.

Our conversation was long. Until Rose pointed ahead of her. She was pointing at the end of the tunnel and my blood ran cold.

Standing at the end of the tunnel, completely silent and staring at us, was the man in the Jason Mask.

Jason Mask aggressively started running towards us. As an instinct, Wade held my hands and we started to run to the tunnel on our right. Dylan and Rose followed us. There were a bunch of lefts and rights before we reached the two tunnels.

We agreed to part away in two groups. Dylan and Rose went to the left tunnel and Me and Wade ran through the right tunnel.

Me and Wade never stopped to run even though I've being clumsy for how many times I fall on my feet.

Wade stopped, he pushed me against the wall of the tunnel that didn't reach the dim light of the tunnel. I wondered what's going on in his mind but it made sense when I heard booming footsteps and a few seconds later I watched with wide eyes as Jason Mask went thundering past us and continued down the tunnel.

When I'm sure he was gone, I released a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

For a minute, we stayed there and had some rest. But I saw Rose had just come into view and even from here I could see red stained in her pink shirt.

Wade and I hurriedly approached Rose. I asked if she was hurt. But she said with tears that the blood stain came from Dylan.

Rose led the way where Dylan was. There was no way Rose should have been able to know the way back. She made way too many turns for her to have memorized it only going through it once. I stopped walking, Wade and I shared a look and thought the same thing.

With that, Rad suddenly came into view and Rose ran to him.

"Did I do good Daddy?" Rose asked.

"You did great sweetheart. Daddy is so proud of you." Rad said. Rose smiled proudly.

Rad pointed a gun on me. He ordered me to walk. We were now on one of the train car. Rad demanded Wade to hold out his hands. Rad handcuffed Wade's hands in one of the metal standing poles. Rad got the gun from Wade's pocket.

And by that, Rad left us after he locked the door of the train car.

I went to Rad's place.

"I'm sorry, I broke my promise to you," Wade said.

"You don't have to say sorry, maybe this is our fate." I said in my tears.

Wade asked to come closer with him. I went closer enough but he demanded to stand between his arms and the pole. I just didn't argue with that with the small place he was asking me to stand.

I stepped forward before ducking under one of his arms and I was now officially enclosed to him. I looked at him when he called my name with an intense expression.

"It was you. Even before Amber. I know this is not the right timing because we're almost likely dead anyway but I needed you to know."

I didn't know what response I should do, but I passionately kissed him. He kissed me back.

We stopped kissing when all of the sudden the doors that connected opened, I can see on the front train that the subway train was on fire. And the flames were quickly making their way towards us.

I could already smell the smoke. I ran back to the exit door and began pushing, pulling, and even banging on the door. Nothing worked.

Wade suggested kicking on the exit window. We kicked the window twice and it cracked. For the fifth time we kicked the window, it finally broke.

Wade told me that there was a left pin in his pocket. I get it used to get rid of the handcuff to his hands. It took more time and the smoke was already burning our lungs. Finally, the handcuff was unlocked. Wade took off his hoodie jacket and placed it around his left hand. He broke some left pieces of glass in the window.

He was the first one to climb out in the window before me. Wade helped me up. When I was on my feet I looked up at the burning subway train and watched as the flames of the fire completely engulfed it.

We saw Rad and his little girl at the top of the platform looking on the subway train to burn into ashes. Rad didn't see from where we were, I'm sure he thought that we were dead on that train.

So I made a plan to eliminate that freaking psycho.

__

I appeared from where Rad was standing.

"You bastard! You killed him!' I screamed as I slammed my body into Rad's and forced me to cry.

Rad was shocked that I was still alive. But he grabbed me roughly by my wrists and squeezed them tightly.

Okay, this was not part of my plan, I hope he didn't think to kill me now.

Turning back to my acting, I yelled to him like he really killed Wade. He just darkly chuckled about it.

As part of the plan, Rad never got to finish what he was about to say because a shard of glass was pushed straight into the center of his back.

Rad let me go. Rad was about again to speak but Wade stabbed again into his chest.

Rad had died. I hugged Wade as finally we are safe now. Wade took the kicking Rose and threw her into his shoulder. Wade and I slowly move forward to find the exit.

With the help of the light in Wade's cellphone, it was enough to see our way. As I was the one who's holding the cellphone, I saw in the darkness a set of stairs and swallowed hard before turning back to face Wade and nodded slowly.

We saw a light on the wood that was blocking our way. We kicked the light wood on how many times before we succeeded to pull off the wood.

Through the small hole, I could see the city lights that brought me into tears. The stars in the sky let me know that it was night.

We've carefully made a way through the hole. When I stood up and took a deep breath, it felt like it had been forever since I had breathed in fresh air.

There were a lot of old and abandoned buildings around that were boarded up just like the subway entrance had been.

We had planned to surrender and tell the police about Rose's case. She could still be changed with the help of DSWD.

Wade called an emergency call to 911. Wade and I shared a smile. I slowly kissed him.

We sat on the abandoned street and waited for the police to come and rescue us.

[pregnant-piggy]

Sweet dreams

Remus Lupin x reader

Words: 5700

Warnings: nightmares 

A/N: Here it finally is! I got asked to do a Remus fic a while ago and I had already started this, but I was struggling with the end. It’s a non-wizard story, so not canon at all. I hope you like it, my loves!

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A night out with the lads. Nothing special, it is a monthly event. Every month, the boys would go out for the night, just the four of them. That leaves you with the house to yourself. You usually take a bath, do a face-mask and watch some Netflix. Most of the time a romantic comedy, that the boys never want to watch.

So there is nothing different this night. You said goodbye to the boys, took a bath and now you are sitting in the living room about to start your film when your phone starts to ring. You look around; you hear your phone, but you don’t know where you left it. You walk around in the room, picking up pillows. The phone keeps on ringing.

‘I’m coming, I’m coming…’ you mutter. With the last pillow on the couch that you lift up, you find your phone. ‘Hello?’

‘(Y/N)? IS THAT YOU?’ James screams through the phone. He is drunk. Already. Though, honestly, it doesn’t surprise you. You have gone out with the boys too. James and Peter are always the first ones to get drunk. You and Sirius follow and on a rare occasion Remus gets drunk too. But that almost never happens.

‘Yes, James, it is me. You called me, who else did you expect?’ you ask sarcastically. In the background you hear music playing. ‘Where are you?’

‘PETER FOUND A CLUB SOMEWHERE NEAR OUR USUAL BAR!’

‘HEY (Y/N)!’ Peter yells. You laugh out loud. You cannot imagine them in a club, dancing. Or actually you can, but it just looks very weird in your mind.

‘Hi Peter. So are you guys having a good time?’

‘(Y/N), it is AMAZING! Even Remus is drunk!’

‘Remus?’ You are shocked, it is not like Remus to get drunk. Especially when there is not really something to celebrate. ‘Well, have fun. Don’t stay out too late!’

‘Can’t promise anything!’ Sirius says and you roll your eyes.

‘Alright, love you,’ you say and hang up the phone.

- -- -

Remus is standing on one side of the space, watching his friends dance with people they have never met before. He smiles to himself as he sees Peter shaking his hips. The music is thumping in Remus’ ears. It’s a song he has never heard before. He finishes his drink and places his glass on a table nearby. He sits down on a chair and nods at James, who is waving at him. At that the boys walk up to Remus and sit on the other chairs around the table. Peter is panting and sweating.

‘Another round?’ he asks and walks to the bar.

After a few minutes Peter returns with four beers and eight shots. Remus starts to laugh.

‘Are you trying to get us drunk, Pete?’ he asks, but takes a sip of the beer nevertheless. Remus knows he is already drunk. His sight is blurry and his head is pounding.

‘So Remus, how are things with (Y/N)?’ James asks. Remus stares at him. It takes a while for he realises what James has said.

‘What do you mean?’ Remus asks, but he knows what James means. Ever since Remus has told his friends about his crush on you, James has been asking twice a day if Remus has done anything about it.

‘Oh, come on! What about earlier this night? The way she was looking at you?’ Sirius says and he knocks back his shot.

Remus blushes and thinks back. When he and the boys left you were standing at the door waving goodbye. Peter and James were already at the sidewalk in front of the house, Sirius was still inside and Remus was halfway between the sidewalk and the front door. As he was nervously playing with his keys, his gaze fell over your face. You were watching him with a small smile. Remus smiled back and felt he was getting red, but he kept looking at you. And you were staring back at him. The contact broke when Sirius showed up and pulled Remus along with him.

‘That was nothing,’ Remus mumbles and takes a shot. He feels it burning in his throat.

‘You should do something about it! She into you, man!’ James says. Remus shakes his head. You don’t like him, why would you? You are way too perfect for him and he would just give you problems you never asked for.

- -- -

The front door opens and you hear the boys come in. Lying in bed you look at your phone. They stayed out longer than usual; normally they come home around two o’clock, but now it is half past three. They stumble up the stairs and you hear soft laughter. Doors open and close, you hear water running and the toilet flushing. You’re pretty sure Peter walks into a closed door and James laughs. After a while all the doors shut and it gets silent in the house. You close your eyes again and drift off.

A loud thump wakes you up. You open your eyes and listen where the sound came from. You hear a soft sound coming from Remus’ bedroom next to yours. You sigh and try to relax again. Remus probably dropped his book. It’s not a rare sound, Remus likes to read when he can’t sleep. You close your eyes and try to fall back asleep. But you are awake now. Sighing you get up and walk in the dark to your door. You open it and cautious not to wake anyone up, you walk to the bathroom.

When you walk back to your room, there is still noise coming from Remus’ room. Instead of going back to bed you open Remus’ door. You hear Remus moving in his bed. It is hot in the room. Not the someone-left-the-heater-on-warm, but a damp warm. You walk over to Remus and sit down on his bed. He keeps moving and squirming. Soft, moaning sounds are coming from his mouth and you understand what is going on. Remus is having a nightmare. He has them often, so you know what to do.

You carefully place your hand on Remus’ forehead. His head is warm and sweaty. With your other hand you lift the sheets of him and place them lower, at his hips. You take both your hands and try to take Remus’ sweater off. It works and you let your hands slide over Remus’ bare chest. You feel his heartbeat lowering.

Fresh air fills the room when you open the window. You take a deep breath and leave the curtains half open. When you turn back to Remus, expecting him to sleep peacefully, you notice that even now, with the window open and his sweater off, he is still sweating and moving restless. You sit back down on the side of his bed and try to take his hands. But he pulls them back with such great power you fall off the bed. You feel you’re getting desperate. Normally you are able to calm Remus down but nothing seems to work now.

Desperately you try to wake Remus up by talking to him. ‘Remus, it’s me, (Y/N). Can you hear me? Calm down honey, you’re home.’ But no matter what you say, Remus doesn’t wake up. ‘Remus, please, wake up. I’m here, you are safe, nobody is trying to hurt you.’

Hopelessly you run your hand through Remus’ hair. You hate seeing him like this. The boy you love in pain and there is nothing you can do about it. You wish you could hold him forever, tell him you love him every second of the day. You want to be his, but you know Remus doesn’t think of you that way, he sees you as a sister, at best.

You drop your head and stare at Remus’ naked chest. Your eyes have gotten used to the dark and you can see the scars on his skin. You get tears in your eyes when you see them. He got them at a terrible accident when he was younger. He never told you the full story about what happened, but you know it involved a drunken uncle and a glass door. James has told you about it. Remus was younger when he run into a glass door getting away from his uncle. But even James could not explain how that would lead to so much scars.

Remus hates it when someone looks at his scars. That’s why he always wears sweaters and long-sleeved shirts. But you have seen the scars countless times. You know the pattern they make on his body. You know Remus thinks no one will ever love him because of them, because he is messed up. A million times you have stood on the edge of telling him you do love him. Him and his scars. You don’t care what other people think of him. You know you love him and that is enough. For you, not for him.

You are losing more hope every second. Remus moans in pain and the tears are on your cheeks. You want to help him, but you don’t know how. Never you have seen Remus having a nightmare this bad. Once again you try to grab his hands. Now Remus lets you, but his hands soon take your wrists and you are stuck. You feel Remus’ strong fingers around your wrists, but they keep squeezing. You pull your hands away.

There is an option, you think. But you’re not sure if it will help. Carefully you get up and climb over Remus. You lie down at the empty, left side of his bed. You shift closer to Remus and slowly put your arm around him. You stroke his lower arm with your thumb. Remus’ body calms down but the moaning gets louder and he starts to mumble.

‘No… don’t… take me… leave her… no…’

You lift your upper body and start to stroke Remus’ cheek. His eyes are moving under his closed eyelids. It is a funny sight, but you are not in the mood to laugh. The tears are still in your eyes.

‘Don’t hurt her… somebody help… take me instead…’

Your arms fail to keep you up any longer and you rest your head on Remus’ pillow. Again you start to talk to him.

‘Remus, calm down. You’re here, in your bedroom. Nobody is hurting you. Nobody is taking…’ you hesitate. You want to know who Remus is dreaming about. Did he meet someone tonight? Or is it going on longer and hasn’t he told you? ‘…her from you. Remus, you are safe here. I am with you.’ Remus moves at your whispering. He turns his body to you and buries his head in your neck. His hands firmly wrap around your waist and his fingers push in your skin. You can feel Remus’ heart beating through your shirt.

Soon your shirt is wet from Remus’ sweaty chest. But you don’t let go of him. He has stopped moaning and is calmer. Finally it is quiet in the room. The wind from the window is blowing in your face and you calm down too. You stroke Remus’ hair out of his face and place a soft kiss on his forehead.

‘Goodnight, honey. I love you.’

- -- -

Chirping of birds. People talking while they walk by. Cars driving by. Remus wakes up to those sounds. He feels terrible. Last night he had a nightmare. A bad one. He dreamt someone was taking you from him and torturing you. He gets chills when he thinks of it.

Remus’ attention gets caught by the open window. He doesn’t remember opening it. Sitting up straight Remus also notices he is not wearing a sweater. That is strange because he always wears a sweater. He strokes his bare chest and looks around the room. Then when he looks at his left he sees a girl. A girl with (y/h/c) hair. She is sleeping with her face towards the wall.

Pacing around the room Remus tries to remember what happened last night. He was not that drunk, was he? He does have a rather unpleasant headache. Remus has so gone up in his mind that he hasn’t noticed the girl moved. But when he sits down back on his bed, debating whether or not to wake her up, he notices that the girl turned her head. Her head is now facing Remus, but hidden behind her hair. Remus puts out his hands and removes the hair from the girl’s face. Swiftly Remus pulls his hand back. It’s you. The strange girl in his bed is you. Remus freaks out. What happened?

Someone knocks on the door. James walks in. His eyes are sleepy and he is wearing his pyjama’s. With his eyes half-closed he falls down on Remus bed. Right on top of you.

‘Bloody hell. What’s this?’ James mutters with his face in the covers.

Remus immediately pulls James up and shushes him. James’ eyes widen when he sees there is someone else in Remus’ bed.

‘Who’s that? You didn’t take anyone home last night, did you?’ Remus shakes his head and puts James’ head closer to you with a smooth movement of his arm. ‘No way! Nice job man!’

Remus pushes James back. ‘No, not “nice job!” James, I don’t know what happened last night! I went to sleep and when I woke up, (Y/N) was here,’ Remus whispers in panic. ‘And I had a nightmare,’ he adds softly.

Your hands move and James gets up.

‘I don’t know what happened either, but I do know that you should tell her. There is a reason she is in your bed Rem, not every girl does that,’ James says and he disappears. Probably to tell Peter and Sirius, Remus guesses.

But before Remus can worry about that you have opened your eyes. You look up to Remus. He suddenly feels very naked; he hasn’t put on clothes and he is very aware of that now. He pulls up his legs and puts his arms around them. You sit up and push Remus’ knees down.

‘Don’t hide from me,’ you say and Remus blushes. He tries not to stare at you, but he is failing miserably. Remus’ eyes glide over your body. Your legs, your feet hidden under the covers, your hips, your breasts, your shoulders, your arms. Remus takes in every single piece of your body. He thinks you’re beautiful and he knows you don’t agree with that.

‘Stop that.’ Your voice breaks Remus’ thoughts. He feels a bit guilty.

You climb over Remus and walk to his closet. ‘Do you feel better?’ you ask while putting on one of his sweaters. Remus stares at you.

‘What- What do you mean?’ he asks with a hoarse voice. You turn around to him.

‘Well, with the nightmare…’ you reply and your voice gets softer with every word.

Remus melts under your caring look. He wants to ask how you know, but all he can manage to do is nod. You sit down at Remus legs and place your hands on them. Remus feels the cold from your hands spreading through his legs, but he doesn’t move.

‘Last night, or actually this morning, I heard you in your room. I tried everything I normally do but you just wouldn’t calm down. So I climbed in bed next to you and you finally fell asleep. I know it’s inconvenient, but I was desperate! I’m sorry if I scared you when you woke up.’

Remus shakes his head. So that is why you were in his bed. He is relieved but also a little disappointed. A little piece of Remus had hoped that something had happened. But something did happen, Remus thinks. You could have just sat at his bed, but you didn’t.

‘No, no, it’s fine. Thank you.’

‘I know you usually don’t want to talk about your nightmares,’ you start hesitatingly. ‘But this one seemed so bad…’

Remus thinks and remember what James had said. Should he tell you? He could always just play it off as caring for a friend.

‘Yeah, I uh…’ Remus says. ‘I dreamt that he was taking… you. He said he would hurt you and kill you. And there was nothing I could do. All I did was cry and scream… I thought I was gonna lose you, (Y/N) and I can’t… I can’t stand that thought…’

-

The girl he was dreaming about is you? You stare at Remus with your mouth open. Remus smiles a bit uncomfortable and closes your mouth by putting his finger under it. He wants to take his hand back but you take it. You look from Remus’ hand to his face and back to his hand. A single tear rolls over your face. You squeeze the hand in your hand.

‘You’ll never lose me, Remus. I promise.’

You let go of Remus hand and hug him. Remus falls back on his bed and you can feel his chest going up and down from laughing. You giggle and lay next to him, your head still on his chest.

‘Try to get rid of me, you’ll see.’ You pop your head up on your hands and stare into Remus’ amber eyes. Remus has stopped laughing and is avoiding your look. ‘Remus?’ you ask and his head turns to you, but his eyes rest on a spot near your shoulder. ‘Who was taking me?’

Something changes in Remus’ eyes. They get darker. The hand on your back turns into a fist and when Remus speaks, his voice is trembling. ‘It’s no one. Don’t worry about it,’ Remus says and his hand relaxes again, but his eyes don’t.

‘Remus, I want to help you. And I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what is bothering you.’

‘I said don’t worry!’ Remus snaps. He pushes you off him and gets up. Angrily he puts on his sweater and pants. You stare in disbelief at him. What just happened? All you wanted to do is talk and now he is mad? You sit up straight and cover your body with your arms.

‘So this is how it is gonna go? You have terrible nightmares, I help you and you won’t even let me help you?’ you ask defensive. You are getting pissed; you did not just spend your whole night worrying about Remus only to now not even hear why.

‘I don’t need help,’ Remus mutters and you snort. Remus looks up angry at you.

‘Oh, get bent,’ you say and walk out of the room, very aware of Remus staring at you, but ignoring him.

- -- -

The whole day you have ignored Remus and he feels terrible. But he just didn’t want to talk about it. He responded to the questions of his friends with brief answers and tried not to think about his nightmare or you. But he is failing. You are all that is on Remus’ mind. The way you looked when you were asleep, how much you seemed to care about him, the way you looked at his scars without the slightest judgement.

‘Just go talk to her! You’re driving me crazy!’

‘I can’t just go talk to her, Sirius! I don’t know what to say or do!’

Sirius turns to Remus and hits him on his shoulder. ‘Just say you are sorry and that you shouldn’t have acted the way you did!’

‘Like it is that easy,’ Remus snorts and rolls his eyes.

‘But it is! Oh never mind, but at least can you be nervous somewhere else? I’m trying to concentrate, I have to kill James or I will never hear the end of this,’ Sirius says and he turns back to his game.

Remus gets up and walks to the kitchen. He doesn’t see you until he has sat down at the table, dropping his head in his hands. Through his fingers Remus can see you staring at him. After a few seconds your expression changes and you turn away. Remus sighs, maybe Sirius is right and he should just go and talk to you.

But when he lifts his head up, you’re already gone.

You’re not at dinner either and it is killing Remus. He really wants to talk to you. His food tastes bland and after a few bites Remus gives up and pushes his plate away.

‘Why won’t you talk to her?’ Peter asks. Remus looks up to him and shrugs.

‘I don’t know what to say. I hurt her and I don’t know how to make it up to her.’

‘But all you have to do is say you’re sorry. She’ll forgive you,’ James says with his mouth full of food. Remus shakes his head. No, it’s not that simple. If it only was.

- -- -

Two hours after the boys had dinner, you walk down to the kitchen. You don’t want to talk to anyone right now. You hear sounds from the living room and you hope no one sees you. In the kitchen you quickly grab some food and then you run back to your room again.

You feel alone. You don’t understand why Remus will just not tell you about his dream. Doesn’t he understand that you only want to help him? You know he knows you would do anything for him.

A soft knock on your door interrupts your thoughts. You say nothing. You don’t care who it is; you’re not in the mood for company. The person behind the door walks away after a minute and you are left all alone again.

Absent-minded you spent the rest of the night going through your phone, reading a book and listening to music. You do hear the sounds from the hallway but they don’t reach you. Nothing does. You don’t even realise how late it is until you close your book and look at the time. It is 1 o’clock already. The house is already silent and the boys have gone to bed. You want too, but just like last night the sounds from Remus’ bedroom keep you awake. With your eyes open you lay in bed. You don’t want to help him, but you know he needs you.

While you’re contemplating whether to help Remus or not, the sounds get worse. Remus is moaning and mumbling again. Sighing you get up and walk to Remus’ room. In the door opening you stand still. It is the exact setting as last night. You open the window and sit at the edge of the bed.

‘Remus, calm down,’ you start with a soothing voice. But it’s like he doesn’t hear you. You get more comfortable and take the sheets. You sigh when you see that Remus is wearing his sweater again. His arms are limp along his body and taking the sweater off is not hard.

‘Remus, I’m here. Can you hear me? No one is hurting you. You’re safe here.’

You really don’t want to sleep in his bed again. He obviously didn’t like it. But you don’t see any other option. No matter how many times you brush your hands on his cheek, Remus keeps squirming and moaning. A bit sad you climb over Remus and lie next to him. His body follows your movements and as soon as your body touches the mattress Remus’ strong hands grasp your waist and pull you closer. You feel his unsteady breath on your cheek and his heartbeat on your chest.

‘(Y/N)…’ he mumbles and you freeze. ‘(Y/N)… ‘m sorry…’

‘I know you are,’ you whisper back and stroke back Remus’ curls that have fallen in his face. His forehead is sweaty and warm.

‘‘m sorry… (Y/N)…’ Tears are welling up in your eyes and you stare at a corner of the room. ‘(Y/N)… hurt you… sorry… dream…’

Remus’ mumbling gets unintelligible and he relaxes more. His mouth is still moving and you giggle at the soft lips that keep opening and closing. He looks adorable so calm and you have to resist the urge to kiss him. Instead you let your hands wander up and down Remus’ back, tracing the scars with your fingers.

‘I love you, (Y/N).’

Remus speaks the words clearly like he is awake. In shock you look at him. His eyes are still closed and now his mouth is closed too. Suddenly you get very aware about every touch on your body. You hear all the sounds in the house and yet you hear nothing.

Remus has never told you he loves you. He always says he likes you and that you are the best, but he never says that he loves you. You have asked your friends about it and they answered that Remus had never told anyone that he loves them. Not even his friends. Not even when he is drunk. You all know he loves you, Remus has his own ways of showing how much he loves his friends. Most of the ways he doesn’t even know about. He always knows exactly what to say when someone is upset, he will help you with anything if you ask him and sometimes you don’t even have to ask. He knows when you are feeling down and how to make you happy. It all shows Remus loves his friends, but he never tells them. Until now.

Did your crush just declared his love for you? In front of you? Directly to you? But he was asleep. Maybe it was a unconscious thing. But still, Remus never says that and he just did it. He just said it. To you.

You sit up and Remus’ hands slide from your waist to your hips. He doesn’t move at all. He finally is asleep. But now you want him to wake up. You want to talk to him, kiss him, tell him you love him too. You do nothing and let him sleep. He looks so peaceful and perfect with his pouting lips and his eyes a little squeezed.

But as you look at Remus, his words echo through your head. ‘I don't need help.’ The tone, his face and the words. They all tell you Remus doesn't want your help. You don't know what will happen if Remus wakes up next to you again.

Careful not to wake him up, you leave his bed. Remus is far off in dreamland. On your toes you walk back to your room. You fall in your bed and close your eyes. Despite being back in your room, alone, you can't help but smile.

- -- -

Remus had a weird dream last night. He dreamt he told you he loved you and that he fell asleep in your arms. However, when he wakes up he is alone in his bed. But someone must have been in his room because the window is open again. And there is only one person Remus can think of; you.

Groaning he falls back in his bed. Your smell is vaguely on his pillow and Remus takes a deep breath. Suddenly he gets remembered of last night. He can swear you were close to him. But why did he wake up alone then?

Remus enters the kitchen and encounters you, standing with your back to him. His friends are at the dining table and he joins them. Apparently his face shows worries because Sirius asks him:

‘What's the matter?’

‘I think (Y/N) was in my room again last night. But she wasn't there this morning,’ Remus answers, glancing at your back. It is then he recognizes his jumper. He turns back to his friends and shakes his head. ‘I don't know what to do.’

‘Just tell her the truth!’ James whispers. ‘Say that you love her! Worst case scenario she doesn't like you back and it will be so awkward she'll move out.’

‘Thanks, man. Now I really want to tell her.’

Remus’ attention is taken by movement in the kitchen. You have turned around and are looking at Remus. If you are mad at him, you are good at hiding it; as soon as you lock eyes with Remus a smile breaks on your face.

You place a plate of pancakes on the table. Remus is surprised; you only make pancakes on special days. James, Sirius and Peter are not as surprised as Remus. They dive into the pancakes. Remus hesitantly takes a pancake and while he pours syrup over it he looks at you from the corner of his eye. You are laughing at Peter, who is stuffing his face with the sweetness. Nothing seems like it's wrong, but yet there is something off about the whole situation.

But Remus says nothing, he is too glad seeing you're happy again to comment on the weirdness. In silence he eats his breakfast and almost chokes on his orange juice when you bend over and he can see most of your naked chest.

- -- -

‘Did you see him look, James?’

‘(Y/N), I told you. This guy is smitten for you!’

You and James are sitting in the garden, hidden under the big tree. Remus is sitting inside the house, reading and you can see him through the window. He has a frown on his forehead and is so concentrated on his book, he is not even bothered by Peter and his videogame.

This morning, when Remus was still asleep, you told your other three friends what happened. When they didn't react as surprised as you, James admitted to you that Remus does indeed have a crush on you. You didn't need to say anything to them to give away your crush; your red face said it all.

Then quick came the plan. You would flirt with Remus to the point where he cannot take it anymore. And so far the plan is working good. The orange juice incident just made you more confident.

‘So you're ready for part two?’ James asks.

You take off Remus' sweater and are left in thin shorts, a tank top and no bra. All part of the plan. ‘Bring it on,’ you say confident.

James walks to the back of the house and fills a bucket with water. You walk to the middle of the backyard and keep still at a point Remus can see you the best. James and the bucket approach you and you start to yell.

‘No, James! Please no! James!’

From the corner of your eye you check if Remus looking at you. He is and you nod at James. This one takes one big step towards you and empties the bucket over your head. The cold water falls over your shoulders and wets your whole body.

‘Ahhh! JAMES!’

Remus immediately gets up and runs to the backyard. While he hurries over to you, you quickly shoot James a smile before turning to Remus.

‘(Y/N), what happened?’

You shiver, though you are not really cold. The sun is shining and warms up your skin.

‘James threw that bucket with ice cold water at me! Now I'm all wet!’ you say and spin in front of Remus. You can feel his piercing eyes on your body. And that's what you wanted. The tank top has lowered and exposes a lot of skin and your thin shorts are soaked and your dark blue panties show through the wet fabric. All part of the plan.

‘Why did he do that?’ Remus asks James but his eyes are still on you.

‘I don't know. Just felt like it,’ James answers.

‘I'm cold,’ you say and try to make your voice sound as sweet as you can.

‘Yes, yes of course you are...’ Remus says with a raspy voice and tears his eyes away from your chest. ‘Let's get you inside.’

Remus puts his arms around you and takes you back into the house. However, when he wants to open the door of the bathroom it is locked.

‘Sorry!’ Sirius yells through the closed door.

Remus sighs and takes you to your room. He sits down on the armchair but you keep standing in the middle of your room. You turn to your closet to pick some clean clothes. Remus’ eyes you practically feel on your bum and you turn red. When you turn around and catch him looking at you, you suddenly can't hold it in any longer.

‘You had a nightmare again,’ you blurt out. Remus looks up to you with a shock on his face. ‘I uhh- you wouldn't fall asleep so I lied down next to you again. I'm sorry, I know that yesterday you were angry so I thought it would be better if I was not in your bed...’ You can't stop and Remus also does nothing to stop you. ‘I know you don't want to talk about it and you don't have to, but you did hurt me yesterday. You know I would do anything to help you, right?’

Remus is staring at you and nods. ‘Yeah, I know. But I don't remember having a nightmare,’ Remus says. ‘I only remember dreaming of telling...’ He stops talking and looks at his feet.

You walk up to him and when you are in front of him you stand between his legs. His head is a little lower than yours. Remus looks confused at you but you look down at him and kiss him.

At first Remus freezes, but when he realises what is happening his hands find your thighs and he returns the kiss. You place your knees at each side of Remus' legs and sit on them, leaving a wet stain on his trousers right where your shorts are.

Kissing Remus is even better than you imagined. His soft lips make yours ache for more. His hands are at the exact right place. You are a little surprised that the sweet and innocent boy can be so passionate and lustful.

You break the kiss and watch Remus’ smile grow. He looks happier than you have ever seen him.

‘I love you too,’ you whisper. ‘You’ll never lose me.’

[platypanthewriter]

Breeze

Harringrove April Prompt 20: Breeze Billy doesn't know what's the most nightmarish about Hawkins--the stuff he can see, or the stuff he can't.

Billy’d been just gonna drop Max off at the Sinclair place, but then the sky turned green with the sounds of screaming, and somebody—who turned out to be Lucas—ran towards them from the house, and banged on the window.  “Tornado!  Get in the storm cellar!” he yelled, through the noise and the dust, and waved them to park in the barn.  

Billy didn’t wanna admit he was spooked, but he definitely walked a little faster than a saunter to that door in the ground.  It was pitch black inside, and he kept bumping into Max, who swore at him.  “I can’t see where I’m going!” she hissed, and Billy growled, “I can’t stand up,” from where he was still wedged against the door.  

“Come down heeeeeere,” came the voice of one of Max’s little shithead friends, the curly one.  “We have a ouija board.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Max said, and Billy heartily agreed, biting his lips together.  

“It’s traditional!” said Curly, lighting a candle, and Max groaned.  He lit five candles in a circle, which looked creepy as shit, because they were all blowing in the same direction—into the darkest part of the cellar, not even something logical, towards or away from the door.  Billy tried not to wonder what was in the darkest corner, sucking up the light.  

Nobody wanted to sit there, he noticed, all the kids gathering around the other side, so Billy had to man up and sit with his back facing the sucking darkness, a soft breeze bringing up goose pimples all along his shirtless spine.  “Where the hell are your parents,” he growled, half wondering, half wishing there was an actual adult around so he could ask how likely he was to find a cow halfway through his Camaro after the tornado went through.

“They got sucked up in the last tornado,” said Lucas’ little sister, and Billy stared at her for a long second, until Max and Curly started snickering. 

“Ask for Great-grandma,” Little Shithead Sinclair said, elbowing her brother.  “She died in the kitchen,” she told Billy, who glared back at her.  

“Fuck off,” he said.

“No, that’s actually true,” Curly said, grinning over.  “It might have been murder.”

Billy hated them all.

“Our old dog used to stare at her, wandering around the spot where she died,” Lucas said, his mouth twitching.

“Where she was murdered,” his sister whispered, like a ghoul.

“It gets really cold in their kitchen,” Max reported, and Billy glared at her, wondering why the fuck everyone in Hawkins was weird as shit, and why he was in their creepy fucking house, when suddenly the whole cellar lit up, and filled with the sound of screaming wind like a passing freight train.  

“Hey!  Everybody’s down here, huh?” came Steve Harrington’s voice, and Billy wished he was dead.  Harrington yanked the cellar door shut again, humming like a lunatic as he walked from death into the basement of a haunted house.  

Lucas shifted closer to Tiny Evil Sinclair to make room, Max, the traitor, shifted close to Lucas, and all the space was left around Billy.  

Harrington stopped when he saw him.  “Oh,” he said, then, “—uh.”  He grimaced, and then sat down between Billy and Curls, and Billy just set his jaw, keeping his eye on the ouija board.

“Oh!” Harrington said again, like a genius.  “Ghosts, huh?”

“Just my great-grandma,” said Lucas, and Max nodded, like oh, yeah, the Sinclair fuckin’ murdered grandma ghost, of course.

“Can she check for…” and here Harrington honest-to-god side-eyed Billy, like he wasn’t supposed to know about their freaky Hawkins bullshit.  “You know,” Harrington whispered.  “Other things?”

“Ohhhh,” said Lucas, like that made sense, and Billy wanted to shake both of them and yell “What fucking other things, Harrington?!” but he just glared at Max, biting his lips.  

The little coward avoided his gaze.

“How far can she look?” Harrington asked, like they were doing got-damn military reconnaissance, and Billy leaned over and punched Max’s leg, so she’d look up.  She didn’t.

Steve reached out and put his hands on the ouija board thing, with Max and Curly and Smallest Sinclair, and it sped over to ‘no’.  The house rattled around them.

“Wait,” Lucas said.  “Does that mean they’re not out there, or she can’t?” and Billy was left to hope they were all united in fucking with him, because he did not want to know what was creepy enough to send a ghost to surveil.  

They got super into it, even drawing a map of Hawkins in the dirt on the floor, while Billy noticed the shelves and shelves of lumpy reddish substances in jars, and peered closer, wondering whether he was about to become an organ donor.  The wind was so strong the weighted door was slamming in a regular rhythm, like a heartbeat.  

“It’s jam,” Max hissed, and he nodded, like he hadn’t jumped at her voice.

“Out by the Steelworks,” Steve said.  “Better all stay away from there.  Hopper and his deputies can check it out, okay.”  He glared around, and Curly and Lucas rolled their eyes and nodded, Max glowered back, crossing her arms, and Tiny Ghoul Sinclair snorted a laugh.  “I mean it,” Steve said, glaring even at Billy, who raised his eyebrows.  “We might not get so lucky next time.”

Billy just raised his eyebrows back, thinking he was damned if he was going anywhere these freaks thought was creepy.  “What,” he said.

“Don’t go out there,” Harrington repeated.

“Gee, I really wanted to,” Billy sneered.  “Steelworks.  Sounds rad.”

“No, don’t,” Max said, sounding shaken.  “Billy.”

“What the fuck is out there,” Billy blurted, and they all kinda...glanced at each other.  

“Guys,” Harrington hissed.

“....ummmmm,” said Tiny Sinclair, kinda sing-songing it, and Billy ignored her to glare at Max.  

“Uh,” she said, wincing.

“Clayface?” Curly said, and Lucas screwed his face up in thought, slowly nodding.

“What?” Steve asked, frowning at them.

“I don’t read comics,” Billy said, which was a dumb thing to say, because they both stared at him.

“How’d you know he was from a comic, then?” Curly asked, raising his eyebrows, and Billy groaned.  “It looks like somebody you know, right, but it’s not,” Curls told Max, who groaned.

“Bullshit,” Billy growled, but looked over to see Harrington biting his lips together, his eyebrows raised.  

“Nobody can hear us in this,” Max said, suddenly.  “Nobody.  Nobody is listening.  We can just—tell him.”

“Who the fuck would be listening to you,” Billy bit out, but everyone scooted closer to the candles.  

“You know Will Byers,” Max said, glancing over her shoulder.  “He disappeared last year.”

If they hadn’t all looked so shaken, and if Harrington hadn’t gone along, his knuckles whitening as he flexed his fists, Billy wouldn’t even have listened—but he had nowhere to be, and even if Max was insane, her version of the last few months in Hawkins answered some questions.  

When they got to the day Billy’d chased Max all over hell and gone when she knew he’d get in trouble, he gritted his teeth, but kept listening.  

“You know this sounds crazy, right,” he said, and Max sighed.  

“I’ve got a picture of one in my wallet,” Curls said, whipping it out, and handing over a bent photo of something huge and slippery-looking wedged in a fridge.  

“...what the fuck is that,” Billy breathed, and they all leaned in around the candles, pointing out stuff in the photo, and talking about Steve Harrington like he was a superhero.  

“So you can’t go out to the Steelworks,” Max said, glaring over, and Billy held back a laugh.

“I didn’t want to!” he told her.  “I’m not going near anything you all think is creepy,” he snorted, gesturing at the whole world around them, and Steve cocked his head, then nodded, like Billy had a point.

The wind outside sounded even louder—they were all shouting to be heard—and the breeze towards the darkest corner hadn’t stopped.  The breeze licked up Billy’s neck, and he full-body shuddered.  It was really cold, back there, and Billy scooted back over next to Harrington, who gave him kind of a weird look, but then went back to their creepy map with big X’s on it.  They kept saying things like “How many,” and “—that’s not good, that could be infecting…”

“Stop fucking with me,” Billy muttered.  “You’re just moving that thing yourself.”

“What?!” Max said, and Lucas opened his mouth, and then closed it, setting his jaw.  

“Let him do it,��� said Curly, and Tiny Shitstirrer Sinclair grinned evilly.  

“Why the fuck would I want to,” Billy asked, but Max grabbed his hand and smacked it down.  

“Close your eyes,” she said.  

It did feel like it was tugging, and he did hold it in fucking place, because all he had left was denial.  “See?” he said.  “It didn’t move.”

The candles blew out at the same time, into the direction of the fucking haunted breeze from behind Billy, and everyone yelled, Billy the loudest, half falling into Harrington.  

Harrington started laughing, silently, Billy could tell, but it was pitch black and the wind was still screaming outside, and as Lucas lit the candles again, the plastic pointer thing in Billy’s hand moved to I—A-M—H-E-R-E.  He yanked his hand back, wanting to punch Harrington, just as the cellar door blew open, rain blew in, pelting around them, and the candles blew out again.  Billy grabbed for the nearest anything, and found Harrington’s arm.

“It’s okay, Hargrove, I’ll protect you,” Harrington said, laughing, and Billy was ready to shove him away and stumble off into the freezing cold basement, when Curly’s voice laughed shakily.  

“Yeah, you better.”

“S’what I’m here for, right?  You okay, Erica?  Max?  Lucas?” Harrington asked, and they said they were, but they sounded rattled.  Billy didn’t lean into Harrington, but he didn’t move away, either, and then he thought of the candles, patting towards them as Harrington stood up.  The door clattered shut again, and it didn’t bang.

“I put the board across this time,” Harrington said, as Billy lit a candle.  

There was movement behind the Shittiest Sinclair.  Billy squinted, as his stomach dropped.  “Everybody behind me,” he said hoarsely, trying to make something different out of what his eyes were telling him about the dark shape on the floor in the flickering candlelight.  

“What?!” she asked, glaring at him, and he said it louder, trying to keep his voice even.  

“Everybody get behind me right now.”  

Harrington glanced at his face and then grabbed Curly and tiny Sinclair, shoving them at Billy, and Billy took a shaky breath of relief, pulling them closer as the coiled snake in the corner raised its head.  Steve swore and grabbed Lucas, as Max yelped, seeing it finally, and scrambled towards Billy.

“Cottonmouth,” said Curly.  “Water moccasin.  Should leave us alone, over here.”

“Shit,” Harrington breathed, stepping close to Billy, so the raised hairs on the back of their arms brushed.  

“Are they poisonous,” Max hissed at Lucas, who was pushing her behind Billy, while glaring at his little sister.  The snake eased back down, shutting its mouth instead of the eerie white gape.  In the light of only two candles, it was nearly invisible again.

“They’re in the viper family,” Curly breathed, staring.  “So it will just rot your flesh.”

“What,” Steve said, which was what Billy was thinking.  

“It’s called necrosis, it’s like gangrene,” Curly said cheerfully, and Billy kinda wanted to feed him to the snake.  “It’s way better than anything that causes nervous system damage!”

“Probably down here to get away from the tornado,” Lucas sighed, and they stayed there, because every time one of them ventured forward, the snake raised its head.  Smallest Sinclair kept trying to wedge her way out, and Billy shoved her back.  

The portal to the nether realms or whatever the fuck was still behind them—probably the Upside-Down, Billy thought, shivering from actual cold the way he never thought he would in the summer in Hawkins Indiana.  Harrington kept shooting him glances, like there was something weird about standing as far as possible from a huge poisonous snake when you couldn’t leave a basement the size of a bathroom.  They finally slid back down to sit against the ground and the wall, pressed up against each other in the darkness.

“...there’s some kind of...wind back here,” Max muttered, used to such things, probably, in Hawkins Indiana.  Billy’s little fucking sister would probably be one of those old ladies in zombie movies that ran into a zombie and hit it with her purse, he thought, biting back a grin.  He kept his mouth shut, for once, because he’d been sweating in his car on the drive over, and now the fucking graveyard breeze had him shuddering with cold.  

When the tornado outside finally slowed, Harrington tapped Lucas’ shoulder.  “Go unbar the door,” he said, watching the snake.  Lucas slid out and did so, and then Small Evil Sinclair, and Billy realized he was going to be alone in the basement with Harrington, and Harrington’s grudge.

Curls and Max went last, and then it was just Billy and Harrington—and Billy couldn’t stop shivering, in no shirt, with the soft, freezing cold breeze wafting against his arms, back, and neck.  Everybody would believe Harrington, Billy realized, if he said Billy’d tried to fight a snake, and Billy grimaced, not liking what that said about his image.

“Close your eyes,” Harrington said, and Billy jerked his head up to squint at him through the darkness.  He could just make out a concerned frown, in the light from the open cellar door

“What?!” he hissed back.

“It’s fine, I’ll get you out of here,” Harrington told him, putting both hands on Billy’s biceps, like that made sense.  His hands felt like heaters in the haunted breeze, and Billy set his jaw and didn’t lean in.

“The hell are you t-talking about,” Billy tried to growl back, but he full-body shivered in the middle of his sentence, and Harrington gripped him tighter.  

“Shut your eyes, I’ll get you past the snake,” Harrington said against his ear, and Billy realized between his shuddering, and his reaction earlier...Harrington thought he was terrified of snakes.  “Come on,” Harrington said, “—I won’t tell anybody, just don’t look at it.  I’ll get you out.”

Billy stared back at him.  “...what,” he said, blankly.

“You can’t stay in this corner forever,” Harrington told him, frowning at the snake.  “They’re pretty chill, but I’m not just—leaving you down here.”  Billy shivered again, and Harrington’s frown deepened.  “Trust me.”

It was not how Billy’d thought the day would go—the fucking tornado, or the snake, but certainly not Steve Harrington trying to help him save face.  He nodded, finally, and Harrington insisted he close his eyes, and walked him over to the stairs, telling him every bump in the floor, and when to lift his feet for the stairs.  “You’re okay, it can’t reach you, it’d hit me first, even,” he kept saying, and stuff like it.  

“That was cool of you, putting yourself between it and Erica,” he said, off-handedly, and Billy wondered what the hell kind of person Harrington thought he was, that he’d hide behind a little girl, and then shivered again at Harrington’s breath on his neck and shoulder.  “Shit, if you hadn’t been down there, somebody coulda died,” he said, laughing shakily.  “I’ll get you away from snakes anytime, man.”

At the top of the stairs, he let go, and Billy stopped automatically, so Harrington walked into him.  “You can open your eyes now,” he laughed.  “...you okay?  You need anything?  Want something to drink?” Harrington asked, drawing him away from the storm cellar by the wrist, like Billy was having some kinda breakdown, just because he was a shivering mess.  He kinda wanted to keep playing it up, keep Harrington watching Billy like he needed protecting.  Billy rubbed his arms, but he didn’t pull his wrist out of Harrington’s grasp.

The yard was a mess of blown branches and trash, and Billy wondered, sinkingly, about his Camaro.  “...I owe you one,” he told Harrington, sighing.  “Two, I guess.  Hit me up.”

Harrington was silent for a long second, and then he nodded.  “...yeah,” he said, trailing off awkwardly, before changing the subject.  “Jesus, it was freezing down there next to that storm window,” he said, and Billy said, “...what?”

Steve pointed to a cracked chunk of plywood screwed just above the ground, and Billy realized it was right over his haunted devil’s corner.  “Didn’t you notice?” Harrington said, shivering.  “Kept letting in a breeze.”

"God fucking damn it," Billy breathed, his face heating as he started to laugh.

The other Harringrove April prompts I’ve done! 

[blueeyedgeorgie]

Dry Humor-W.L

“can you write some fluff for Will where the reader (his gf), helps Will with some eboys content, and has very dry humour, so ends up completely roasting the others (and maybe some other friends like sidemen and the Cals), and like the fans find it really funny?“

Pairing: WillNE x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k+

_______________

"Hey, love can you come help me with something?" It was normal for Will to call Y/n in to help him film something, usually it'd be just another Reddit video, sometimes it'd be for his main channel. It had surprised Y/n when she found out she was needed for an Eboys video. "You're not gonna make fun of me, are you?" Y/n glanced at the camera that was flashing a red dot. He was filming. "Not at all, I actually need your help picking out some of the boys' YouTube videos to review in an Eboys video," Will explained, pulling YouTube up on his monitor. "Then why are you filming?" Y/n kept her eyes on the camera. "Oh, in case there're any golden moments that we can put into the video," Will smiled to the camera. Y/n gave him a look, only causing Will to let out a small laugh. "Anyways, let's look at some of Alex's videos." Will had scrolled down through Alex's videos, finally spotting a good video from around 2 years ago. "Alex's old thumbnails make me anxious to look at," the h/c girl had a look on her face Will couldn't really read. "Why's that?" "I don't know, they look like something a teenage tik toker would make when trying to start a YouTube channel," Y/n had begun to bite on her nails. A smile spread across Will's face, he looked into the camera with a small nod. "What?" "Nothing," Will gave a shrug as he looked back to his computer. There were a few moments of silence before Y/n spoke up again. "It's crazy," Y/n had spoken up as Alex's video began to play. "What?" "Alex has gone through more hairstyle changes than I've changed my clothes," Y/n replied, keeping her eyes on the monitor, watching Alex talk as his purple hair was clearly visible. Will let out another laugh. "Oh, this is great," Will smiled, grasping onto his girlfriend's hand. Alex's video had finished up, leaving Will to start scrolling through his next friend's videos. He had chosen James Marriott to react to next. He had soon enough clicked on a video from James's series 'Can't Actually Sing.' Y/n hadn't said much throughout the video, but it only had taken so long before she finally spoke up. "I'm sorry, but if James keeps talking about Wonderwall, I'm going to lose my mind," Y/n let out a sigh, shaking her head. James had just started to talk about the song again on the video he filmed. "Wonderwall is really that annoying to you, isn't it?" Will looked over to his girlfriend. "I use to not care about the song. it's cool that James likes the song, but he talks about it so often. It's gotten so annoying," Y/n gave a shrug. Will only gave a nod as the couple continued to watch through James's video. "Okay, since you judged Alex's thumbnails, what do you think about James's?" Will had asked as soon as James's video had ended. "He literally makes the same face in every thumbnail he puts his face in. The only difference is that he moves it around. Wannabe Sniperwolf, 3/10," Y/n glanced over to the camera for a moment. There wasn't much emotion to her voice, Will couldn't tell if she was being serious or not. "Wannabe Sniperwolf, that's what I'm calling James now," Will grinned. Finally, it was George's turn to be judged by Y/n. Will had chosen a video that didn't involve George playing a gameplay. Halfway through the video, George had gotten up and began to walk around. "Listen, I know I'm short but at least I'm not George," Y/n shook her head. "Isn't George taller than you?" Will looked over to his girlfriend. "Yeah, but George is also a 22-year-old and is 5'7," Y/n smiled. "George and Alex are like the same height," Will chuckled. "Yeah, well I wouldn't want to be Alex either," Y/n gave another shrug. "Okay, what do you think about George's thumbnails?" Will had closed out of the video, going back to George's posted videos. "Some of them remind me of Alex's thumbnails," Y/n cringed. "I just don't like them." "Do you like any of the boys?" Will let out a laugh. "Oh, of course. They're amazing. They're like family, I just don't watch their YouTube videos," Y/n quickly explained herself, glancing from her boyfriend to the camera. "Okay, but what do you think of the sidemen?" Will had cocked his head to the side. "Why Sidemen? That's literally the weirdest name for a group," Y/n did a playful eye roll. "I've never thought to myself, 'you know, if I had to name a group channel name, I'd name it Sidemen.' Like, are they the side hoes or something?" "You're amazing," Will laughed. "What are your thoughts on Inabber?" "I literally love Fraser, but his YouTube videos are just too long. I really don't want to watch a 20-minute video on Onision or Jake Paul," Y/n shook her head. Will let out another laugh. "This is why I love you." "Only because of my humor? Wow, you have low standards," Y/n rolled her eyes once more. "No, I didn't mean it like that," Will shook his head. "I know, babe. I'm messing with you," Y/n let out a laugh. "Are we done yet?" "Yeah, I'll text the boys and ask if they're ready to film,"  Will smiled, leaning in to give Y/n a kiss.

"Alright lads, I brought Y/n in for a bit," Will had grinned at his camera. He and the boys had just started filming a new video for the Eboys channel. "I had her react to a few of you lads." "Oh god..." James sighed. "I already know I'm gonna get it worst," Alex shook his head. "I think I'm gonna have to agree with that," Will grinned, followed by him letting out another laugh. "Anyways, let's start the video, don't we?" Will had shared his screen with his friends, hitting the play button. 'I don't know, they look like something a teenage tik toker would make when trying to start a YouTube channel,' Y/n finally spoke up on the video. Alex threw his hands up, "They're old videos!" Laughter could be heard coming from the boys. The video continued on, having Y/n to continue talking about Alex. 'Alex has gone through more hairstyle changes than I've changed my clothes.' "Now this is a low blow!" Alex shouted. "I think she's right," Will wiped a tear from his face. He had been laughing so hard tears had been brought to his eyes. "Of course you think she's right, Will. She's your girlfriend," Alex shook his head. "Is my turn done yet? Is she done roasting me?" "Yeah, yeah. I think so," Will nodded, unpausing the video on his monitor. 'I'm sorry, but if James keeps talking about Wonderwall, I'm going to lose my mind.' "Wonderwall's a good song!" James spoke in a defensive tone. "It's an easy song to play on the guitar!" 'I use to not care about the song. it's cool that James likes the song, but he talks about it so often. It's gotten so annoying.' "Oh, I'm sorry! I'll shut up about it when you come around, Y/n," James shook his head. "She's right, mate," George laughed. "You constantly talk about that song." "She's gonna roast you next, yet you're defending her?" James raised a brow. "Alright, I see how things are, George." "Oh wow, James got defensive quickly," Will grinned. 'He literally makes the same face in every thumbnail he puts his face in. The only difference is that he moves it around. Wannabe Sniperwolf, 3/10.' "Oh, c'mon! 3/10? At least I don't put the stupid red square behind me," James let out a laugh. "He gets defensive over a song, but his thumbnails he can laugh about," Alex laughed, throwing his head back. "Let's keep going, I think it'll be my turn next," George ushered Will to unpause the video once again. Will, obliged, and it hadn't taken long for George to pop up next. 'Listen, I know I'm short but at least I'm not George.' "Low blow, Y/n!" George practically shouted, shaking his head. The boys exploded into laughter like dynamite. 'George and Alex are like the same height,' Will had spoken over the video. 'Yeah, well I wouldn't want to be Alex either.' "Hey! It's not my turn anymore!" Alex threw his hands into the air for another time. 'Okay, what do you think about George's thumbnails?' Will continued to speak in the video. 'Some of them remind me of Alex's thumbnails,' Y/n cringed on the screen. 'I just don't like them.' "What do you like, Y/n?!" George snapped at his camera. "It doesn't seem to be any of us!" "Hold on, lads," Will grinned, standing up from his desk. "Where's Will going now?" Alex sighed. Will disappeared out of the room for a moment, only to come back in with his dear girlfriend, Y/n. "Hi boys!" Y/n laughed, coming closer to the video call. "Y/n, how could you say those things about us!" George shouted. "I'm sorry, I was trying to be funny for Will's video," Y/n sighed. "I love you guys, I really do!" "She just has dry as fuck humor," Alex sighed, rubbing his face. Y/n let out a laugh, "I'm sorry, guys. Yeah, I'm pretty dry I guess." "I genuinely think this was one of my favorite Eboys moments to film," Will kept a stupid grin on his face. "Of course it is for you, Will. Your girlfriend didn't roast your videos," James smiled. "I live with her, she roasts me on every little thing I do," Will chuckled, pulling Y/n into his lap. "I can confirm this is true," Y/n smiled with a nod. "You two are something else," Alex shook his head. "We know," Y/n continued to nod. "Anyways, Y/n you mind leaving us be so we can continue the video, love?" Will gave a peck to Y/n's cheek. Y/n gave a nod as she waved to the boys, beginning her exit. The boys had yelled obnoxious goodbyes behind her, only receiving another wave. Dry humor or not, Will adored his girlfriend.

The Eboys's new video had finally been posted, Will sat in his living room, scrolling through the comments of the video, looking for feedback. 'Y/n is iconic.' 'We want more Y/n! Her humor is awesome!' 'Y/n cult>Louis cult' "Hey love," Will called out, continuing to scroll through comments. "What's up?" Y/n replied, walking over to the couch Will sat on. "The fans love you," Will smiled. "Well, of course they do. I don't know how someone couldn't. They really love your humor though." "That's great," Y/n smiled, sitting down next to her boyfriend. Y/n read the comments as Will scrolled. "I can't believe how many people think I'm funny," Y/n giggled. "Oh, they don't think you're funny, they think how the boys are reacting is funny," Will smirked. "Oh, shut up," Y/n slapped a hand against Will's chest. "I'm sorry," Will laughed. "They think you're funny, I promise." "That's good," Y/n smiled, leaning her head against Will's shoulder. "You're truly funny, Y/n," Will looked down at his girlfriend. "I love your humor." "I know," Y/n looked up at her boyfriend. "I love your humor too."' "We're just two funny peas in a pod, aren't we?" "We really are," Y/n nodded. "Love you, Will." "Love you, Y/n."

Taglist:

@daddydobrock​

@anyasthoughts​

@multifandom-but​

[ericsonclan]

How to Trick a Ghost

Summary: Sophie and Minnie work to set up a surprise birthday party for Tenn but how do you hide a party from a ghost?

Word Count: 1819

Read on AO3:

Minnie looked at all the party supplies, her talons clicking impatiently against the floor. She wanted to start decorating already but Sophie told her to wait. With a small huff Minnie sat on the floor and started to build a nest out of some party streamers. It was actually pretty comfy. She burrowed into the copious amount of party streamers, happy chirps and tweets leaving her lips as she closed her eyes.

Suddenly the sound of fluttering wings appeared along with Sophie carrying a tower of party hats on her head and a mannequin with her talons. “Mission successful,” Sophie grinned as she dove down and did a clumsy landing. The harpy quickly redirected her course though and fell to the ground with a bit more grace.

“Tenn is distracted?” Minnie poked her head out of her nest, a blue streamer draped over her head.

“Yep! He sure does love my art box!” Sophie fluffed up her feathers with pride then glanced over at Minnie. “Uh, Minnie, those are supposed to be draped on the walls, not your face,”

“I know that!” Minnie gave an embarrassed chirp. “I was just trying to guard and hide them in case Tenn showed up. Y’know ghosts, they can just zoom through walls like it’s no big deal,”

“True, true. Well he’s gonna be busy for a while. As soon as I let him use my art box his eyes got all big and shiny,” Sophie smiled, picking up some streamers and flying up to place them with her talons. “He possessed a colored pencil right away and I swear I’ve never seen a pencil race that fast across a piece of paper,” Sophie gave a pleased tweet and a twitter at the recent memory when she paused, her head tilted slightly to the side. What was she forgetting?

After a moment her eyes grew large. “I forgot the tape! I’ll be right back!” Not waiting a second the harpy was off, zipping through the house like it was nothing. She searched all around the front living room, then the dining room table. Nope, not there. Sophie tapped her talon against the floor, unsure where to look when she recalled that there was some tape in her room. The harpy was off like a shot once more and it wasn’t until she had already opened the door that she remembered that Tenn was in there. The loud sound startled the ghost who slipped out of the pencil, his form turning a bit fuzzy due to being spooked.

“Oops, sorry,” Sophie gave a small series of apologetic chirps and walked forward. “Just gotta grab some tape to-” She paused, catching herself before spilling the beans on the surprise birthday party her and Minnie were throwing for Tenn. “Fix my backpack?”

“Your backpack?” Tenn quirked an eyebrow, unsure what his sister even meant.

“Yep! It’s a harpy thing!” Sophie snatched up the roll of tape. “Anyways, whatcha drawing?”

Her question was answered by Tenn possessing the piece of paper and moving away. After a moment he poked his form out of the object.

“Sorry, it's just...” The ghost couldn’t think of an excuse that wouldn’t give away what he was drawing.

“It’s okay, I don’t have to see it if you don’t want me to,”

“You can see it, just not yet,” Tenn fidgeted with his fingers, the edges of his ghostly form twirling in the air.

“Okay!” Sophie grinned then reached forward and tried to ruffle her brother’s hair but her hand phased through. “Damn it, keep forgetting. Alright, I’ll leave you to it then!” Sophie gave one more smile then flew out of the room. Tenn waited a few moments then quickly returned to possessing the colored pencils; immediately the red pencil went to work.

Minnie was in the middle of blowing up a balloon when her twin reappeared.

“I’m back!”

Sophie’s voice caused the harpy to inhale sharply, choking on air. Minnie made a weird face, little odd twitters and chirps leaving her lips as she tried to clear her throat. Sophie zoomed forward and whacked Minnie’s back with a hearty hit, helping her catch her breath. Minnie gave her sister an annoyed look and Sophie gave a nervous laugh.

“Oops, sorry about that. So, whatcha working on?” Sophie poked her head over her twin’s shoulder and noticed the ghost-shaped balloons.

“I thought Tenn would like it,” Minnie looked down shyly.

“He totally will! Alright, I got the tape so we can get started!” Sophie flew a few circles in the air to burn off some of her excitement then got to work putting up streamers. The twins worked hard on the decorations as they spoke about the party, both of them buzzing on the anticipation of their brother’s face when he saw the party. After a little while though Sophie paused. “Wait, what if he sees this early?”

Those words worried Minnie, her mind spiraling for a moment. “Salt!”

“Right! Genius move, salt repels ghosts,” Sophie disappeared and returned moments later, a happy, proud smile on her lips as she showed the container of salt. “Let's get this circle made!”

“Sophie?”

“Yes, Minnie?” Sophie smiled over at her twin.

“Why the hell did you make the circle so small?” Minnie gestured to the tiny circle that barely encircled her.

“We didn’t have enough salt for the room so I thought I’d focus on just us...”

“The salt doesn’t make us invisible though and Tenn would still see all the decorations,”

Minnie’s words made Sophie realize her mistake.

“Oh shit. Well, ummm,” Sophie shrugged. “Oh well, he definitely can’t reach you now. Anyways, can I get on your shoulders? My arms hurt but I still need to put up the banner,” Minnie sighed “Fine,”

Sophie beamed at those words. Soon the twins were back at it with decorating until the next question popped up in Sophie’s mind.

“Minnie, what did we buy for party food?”

“Ghost peppers,”

Sophie blinked at that answer. “Those are super hot. They’re gonna burn our mouths off.”

“Yeah, but I don't know, I thought maybe ghosts could eat them because, y’know, the name,”

Sophie stifled a laugh. The action made a frown appear on Minnie’s lips as her feathers ruffled in embarrassment.

“Maybe we should’ve made some boo-loney sandwiches too. Oh! Oh! Or maybe we can bake some boo-berry pie,” Sophie devolved into a fit of laughter and fell onto the floor, tears in her eyes as wheezy chirps left her lips.

Minnie’s frown remained; her feathers were extremely ruffled. “Whatever, I know you’re a dumbass too.”

Sophie kept laughing for another few seconds then got up to her feet. “Okay, okay, yes, I am a dumbass but at least it wasn’t about ghost peppers,” Sophie smiled and felt Minnie nudge her side. “Anyways, back to decorating,” Sophie strolled over to get the mannequin but soon paused. “But first, one more joke. What does a ghost order at an Italian restaurant?” “I don’t know, what?” Minnie asked but then immediately figured it out and answered at the same time her twin did.

“Spook-ghetti!”

The sisters smiled, sharing a quick laugh and in that moment all was forgiven and they worked to get the mannequin to look snazzy so that Tenn would look great at his party. Sophie threw on a feather boa and Minnie tossed on a pair of birthday sunglasses. After that was done the twins looked around at their great decorating skills then shared a fist bump. It was time to get Tenn.

“Just close your eyes and hover over this way,” Minnie guided her younger brother who was absolutely confused. He was currently floating about inside his artwork since he wanted to show it to his sisters. After a while though he slipped out of the item when Minnie said to open his eyes. Slowly opening them, his mouth went ajar as he took in the sight of the room. Streamers of blue and purple covered the walls and cute cartoon ghost balloons floated nearby. On a table there were ghost peppers, some bottles with flavored mist labeled ghost water and a cake with beautiful unicorns on it. Next to the cake was way too many presents for two harpies to afford or for a ghost to own. Beside the table was a mannequin with a pink feather boa and birthday sunglasses with a name tag that said: Hi, my name is Tenn, a 10/10 brother.

“So, like it?” Sophie leaned forward, her talons anxiously scratching on the floor. Minnie seemed just as nervous; her eyes had taken a more panicked anticipation.

“Like it?” Tenn managed, his voice soft. “I love it! This is amazing!” He gave one of the biggest smiles that the twins had ever seen. The two of them crowed with joy and fist bumped again as Tenn started to float up higher in the air without meaning to. He was always this way whenever his happiness was too much for his small ghost form to contain.

Tenn was so caught up in his happiness that he was halfway through the ceiling when he snapped out of it at the sound of Sophie’s curious chirping. Glancing down, he noticed that she had found the art. In an instant he flew through the air and hovered over it.

“I wanted to surprise you two with a drawing,” Tenn fidgeted with his fingers as his sister studied the art. It was all three of them standing in front of their house. Sophie had a paint brush and easel and was flying in the air while Minnie was busy playing a song on her guitar while Tenn hovered in the air above them with a smile.

Minnie and Sophie were silent for a few seconds.

“Holy shit, this is...” Minnie looked up at her brother with the happiest smile, “Fucking amazing!”

“Yeah! It's so cool and cute! I love it!” Sophie tried to tackle her brother with a hug but phased through. “Oh shit,” The harpy whispered as she realized her mistake too late before crashing on the floor.

“Soph, you okay?” Tenn’s ghost form flew over his sister.

“Yep!” Sophie gave a thumbs up.

Tenn gave a relieved smile at that. “Oh, I can possess the mannequin, then you get your hug,”

Sophie and Minnie both gave happy twitters at that and soon Tenn dove down, possessing the mannequin. The twins instantly flew forward and wrapped their arms around it, the closest form of Tenn they could touch.

“Happy birthday, Tenn,” Minnie gave a soft smile at her brother.

“Yeah! Happy birthday! You’re thirty three!”

Tenn gave a small sigh. Even if the fire happened around twenty years ago he felt closer to the age he had become as a ghost. “Thanks,” Tenn felt an overwhelming warmth take over his heart. He couldn’t wait to celebrate his first birthday as a ghost.

[writethehousedown]

Things Are Really Cool (In Nazareth) (Ninex)- Ortega

a/n: wow hi, welcome to whatever the hell this is? this is a sort of a kind of a n19f verse/masp verse crossover set some years after the originals take place (but you don’t need to have read either to read this), borne out of the semi-autobiographical experience of my last few weeks at work trying to teach five year olds mid-pandemic. basically Nina’s a stressed primary teacher and Monet is her primary teacher girlfriend. this is fulfilling the prompt “Nice” only ten days late and also probably has one million and one typos in my haste to get it out in time for at least Christmas xo regardless, i hope u all enjoy and in the words of boyband JLS, “mewwy cwistmas”.

disclaimer: there are a couple of lines i’ve yoinked out of tv shows here- “lesbian having a panic attack” is adapted from Kimmy Schmidt and the “what are you, forty?” ones are from Always Sunny. leave me alone i’m too tired to be funny at this time of year xo

fic summary: When Nina’s headteacher asks her to pull a Nativity play out of thin air with only a week to organise it, Nina is simply too nice to say no. As a consequence, she is blindly oblivious to what her girlfriend Monet is planning, with useless lesbian results.

Nina knew she was a people pleaser. Always had been, always would be. She was simply too nice to say no to anyone. She had never been one to say no to anything.

She’d never taken the last remaining teabag for herself way back at uni; she’d always elected to leave it for Brooke or Yvie, knowing that Brooke would be grumpy all day if she didn’t have her morning cup of tea and not wanting to deal with the caffeine crash Yvie would experience if she made coffee as a substitute.

It had even started way further back in her life than her twenties. The most rebellious thing she’d ever done in high school was to pull out one of the cables of her German teacher’s computer at the back so she’d spend the whole lesson fixing it instead of teaching their class. In Primary, she was the stereotypical, insufferable goody-two-shoes: didn’t ever lose a minute of Golden Time, finished both her set tasks and the extension work that accompanied them perfectly, and was the worst kind of tell-tale.

(At the time, she thought her teachers loved that- the fact that she acted as their five-year-old corporate spy, ready to report any wrongdoings to headquarters. Contrarily, now that she was a teacher to five year olds, Nina thought that if she heard one more story about who skipped who in the line she would climb very slowly and very carefully into the staffroom microwave and blow herself into fifty million partially-heated bits.)

So when her headteacher ducked her head into her classroom on a cold, wet, rainy Wednesday after all the kids had been dispatched home, Nina panicked. Her eyes darted up to the displays on her walls. Fuck, there were still Halloween pumpkins blu-tacked up there. There was, so far, nothing on her December learning journey wall. And there were still Very Hungry Caterpillars made from bottle tops pushed into dollops of paint stuck to bright green backing paper which had been there since the kids’ first week at school back in August.

Well. Red and green were Christmassy colours. Right?

But Mrs Del Rio didn’t seem all that interested in the state of her wall displays. She’d come to ask Nina if she could film a Nativity play with her class.

“It’s for the parents really,” Bianca had rolled her eyes, folding her arms in her usual no-nonsense way. “Just something they can watch and share with the families since we can’t do a real Nativity. It doesn’t need to be anything big- just a few songs…one, two…say four. And then just have the kids in their costumes with a couple of lines. With a backdrop, y’know, there doesn’t need to be props. Just the baby Jesus…the gifts for the three Kings….maybe a couple of no vacancy signs for the innkeepers…that sort of thing. Just for before we finish up term. Maybe if it could be done by next Friday. That okay?”

And Nina, because she was a people pleaser, had nodded and said yes! and of course! and Bianca had nodded curtly at her in the frostiest thank-you the world had ever seen before leaving.

It had only taken the time in which Bianca’s heels had slowly disappeared from hearing distance for the reality of the situation to sink in for Nina. She’d just agreed to do a whole Nativity play, with songs, and costumes, and props, in the space of eight days.

She was going to be sick like little Jack had done that day he’d come into class and projectile-vomited halfway onto the carpet and halfway into Nina’s outstretched hands.

Nina was so consumed by the all-encompassing panic that she didn’t even flinch when there was a loud, jaunty knock at her classroom door.

“High Court Enforcement,” came a loud, brash voice, Nina finally turning to see who was there with glazed eyes. Willam leant against the doorframe, her messy blonde waves falling over the shoulders of her dark blue jumper like curly vines. She was the only teacher who could match the sass levels of the Year 6s and was a colleague that Nina both loved and feared. Loved because she was straight-talking and blunt and altogether hilarious, but feared because her girlfriend was the deputy head of the school and anything Nina said to her would definitely be reported back as gossip.

Also because she was, for all intents and purposes, a pint-pot riot.

“Nina. Nina. Nina,” Willam said repeatedly, her voice monotone and her persistence irritating. Nina mumbled something out.

“What?”

Nina raked her hands through her shock of frizzy blonde curls and sighed, her stress levels already rising. “I said I’m a lesbian having a panic attack.”

“Oh, that’s a mood. I was sent round to do the collection for the support staff but I’ve already spent forty minutes chatting to Alyssa instead of doing what I was asked. Got a grand total of a fiver so far,” Willam shrugged blithely, coming into Nina’s classroom and perching on one of the tiny munchkin-sized tables. “What’s up?”

The pressure-cooker that her mind was rapidly becoming told Nina to throw caution to the wind and vent, so she told Willam everything in a series of babbles barely comprehensible in the English language.

“So you’ve just agreed to doing a full Nativity video in the space of a week?” Willam cocked her head, pulling a confused face. “Why didn’t you just tell Bianca to fuck off?”

Nina paused, feeling all her panic momentarily leave her body as she fixed Willam with a glare. “Are you expecting me to answer that?”

“No, no. Shit, wouldn’t it have been amazing if you had, though? What d’you think would’ve happened? Maybe she’d’ve shouted so loud at you her lungs would’ve just exploded.”

Nina couldn’t help but blurt out a small laugh. “That’s way too dramatic. She wouldn’t even fire me on the spot because that would mean management having to go in and cover my class tomorrow while they tried to find my replacement.”

Nina regretted the small barb at their management team as soon as it was out, but Willam seemed nonplussed.

“Yeah. Court’s way too impatient to deal with your lil’ rugrats.”

“I’m too impatient to deal with them. I’m too impatient to deal with them on a day to day basis. How I’m going to teach them four Christmas songs in the space of a week, fuck knows.”

Willam cocked her head again, her smile becoming patient. “Well if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

Willam’s words were a small source of comfort to Nina. Suddenly everything seemed doable. She matched her colleague’s smile, glad she’d arrived in that moment. “Thanks, Willam.”

As soon as her words were out, she saw the small, playful twinkle in Willam’s eye. “Because nobody else would’ve been mad enough to agree to the damn thing.”

***

Getting her class sorted and organised for the day couldn’t really be likened to herding cats. No, this process was far more chaotic than that. At half past nine each day what could only be described as a minor tsunami of children hit Nina’s classroom: throwing their jackets into the designated tubs with wild abandon and subsequently knocking anything and everything off her adjacent desk, unloading every possible snack in their lunchboxes into their trays and Nina’s pleas for them to only take one snack out falling on deaf ears, spilling their water bottles and getting the zips on their jackets stuck and wanting to tell Nina a billion and one things that seemed to have happened in the 18 hours they had spent outwith her care.

During the month of December this chaos only intensified. Hats, scarves and gloves littered the classroom floor as they fell off the kids like baubles off a dead Christmas tree, shrieks filled the air as they discovered a new chocolate in the advent calendar, and at least half the class surrounded Nina like festive zombies as they all battled to win the competition of “Who can tell Miss West about what their elf on the shelf had got up to overnight the loudest”.  

Nina hammered the little bell she kept on her desk with the palm of her hand, stress levels already rising. “Okay, Reception! Jackets in tubs, snacks in trays and bums on carpet!”

As her class giggled about their teacher’s use of the word “bum”, Nina sat down in her wheely chair and waited for them all to join her on the little strip of carpet in front of her smartboard. It was moments like these where she’d be hit with a sort of out of body experience; she was someone’s teacher, she was this class’ first teacher. She was sitting in front of her class waiting to take the register and start their day. It was slightly overwhelming, even though she’d been doing the job for a number of years now.

Eventually her kids were all organised and she’d taken the register and made sure they all had a lunch to eat that day. Nina made sure to put on her best excited face as she prepared to tell them about the Nativity.

“Right, Reception!” she said, injecting lots of mystery into her voice like a storyteller. “I have got some very exciting news for you all today!”

Their little faces all grew equally excited as they were expectant, and Nina’s heart almost popped. Just then, Harry, a boy with enough gel in his hair to single-handedly keep Brylcreem in business for a year and huge bottle-top glasses’ hand went up.

“Yes, Harry?”

The boy bounced on the carpet, incredibly eager. “Can I tell you what my elf did last night?”

Ten more hands immediately shot up, and Nina’s heart sank. Great.

But she was still teaching four and five year olds and this was truly the most important thing in their little lives, so she fixed a bright smile on her face and tilted her head inquisitively. “What did your elf do?”

Harry was now sitting on his knees, towering over the other children and threatening to knock himself over with every passing second as he swayed in the nonexistent breeze. “He did a poop in my Dad’s shoes!”

The rest of the class shrieked with laughter in response. Internally, Nina was rapidly reaching her wit’s end. Love it. A bit of toilet humour to start off the Nativity rehearsals. Great. Exactly what’s needed. “Oh my goodness! What a cheeky elf!”

“He did three poops! And you know what else? They were cola jellybeans! I ate them!”

Sophie, a girl with long ginger hair in a low ponytail and a gap in her smile where two baby teeth once lived, gasped in horror. “You ate the elf’s poop?!”

The rest of the class fell about laughing. Nina had to get control back of the situation.

“Well thank you very much for sharing, Harry! Okay everyone, let’s pop our hands down.”

There were still ten hands waving proudly in the air like rebellious flags.

“We can do more elf stories at the end of the day if there’s time!” Nina lied. There would not be time. There was never time. But it placated most of her class enough for them to follow the instruction. There was, however, one remaining hand up which belonged to Jason, a boy with hair so platinum blonde it seemed otherworldly.

“It’s not an elf story! I’ve got a question,” he insisted, shouting out despite the fact his hand was already up. Nina relented, just in case he did have something important to ask. Maybe he was about to pee himself. Highly likely with the Reception kids.

Jason, pleased as punch that Nina was allowing him to speak, put his hand down. “Can I tell you a rhyming word I’ve just thought of?”

Nina’s smile grew all the more gritted, and the muscles in her face all the more tense. This was going to be the longest week she had experienced in living memory.

***

Nina would never get tired of living with Monet. The sound of her singing as the shower provided a backing track, the unholy racket she seemed to make when she cooked (a symphony of swearing, the banging of kitchen utensils, and the clattering of saucepans and baking trays). The smell of the Dior Sauvage she used instead of perfume and the Cantu hair custard she combed through her hair after she washed it. The fact that Nina could get a cuddle from her any time she wanted and the soft squash of her arms around her.

But living with Monet was best at Christmastime. The endless arguments they got into about their Christmas decorations and what looked best where, both stemming from a fierce loyalty to their own family traditions. The way they’d write their Christmas cards to their friends with a Christmas film playing in the background, and the way Monet would tease her about having such picture-perfect, font-like, primary-teacher handwriting. The way Monet would get too excited in the supermarket and load party food into Nina’s shopping basket like a child trying to sneak chocolate.

Even though Nina was completely exhausted, she still felt herself smile as she turned her key in the lock and heard her girlfriend loudly singing along with Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree, paired with the blast of the extractor fan.

“Hello?” Nina sing-songed as she closed the door shut, shedding her heavy jacket and her scuffed trainers and her backpack full of jotters that had been haphazardly stuffed in as she left work.

“Hello!” Monet chirped back, in what had become their tradition since moving in together all those years ago. “Your timing’s perfect, I just finished dinner.”

“Ooh. What is for dinner?”

Monet gestured to the pile of grated cheese, pan of bubbling baked beans, and loaf of white bread. “Beans on toast.”

Nina snorted and leaned against the counter. “Wow, don’t I have the most perfect domestic housewife! That must’ve taken, what…two hours?”

Monet reached over and squeezed her side, eliciting a yelp that would probably give their downstairs neighbours the wrong idea. “Shady bitch. It’s this or two rice cakes that’ve been in the cupboard for so long I swear they’re turning fossilised.”

“No, I’m kidding. Of course I’m hungry, thanks hun. I’ll make dinner tomorrow,” Nina promised, sliding into one of their second-hand wooden dining chairs as Monet plated up.

“No you won’t,” Monet frowned. “You look dead. What’re your kids doing to you, beating you with their tiny little chairs?”

“The fucking Nativity,” Nina sighed, pausing to thank Monet as she placed two slices of golden toast covered with beans and flakes of grated cheese down in front of her. Admittedly it did look like absolute heaven.

“Have you told Bianca to piss off yet?” Monet scowled, stabbing her toast so hard she threatened to break the plate in two.

“What kind of fantasy-land school do you work at where you can tell your headteacher to piss off and she actually listens?” Nina cocked an eyebrow at her, and Monet shrugged in agreement as she chewed a mouthful. “No, of course not. I’m going to make it happen, though, even if it kills me. We started learning the songs today, which you would think was a simple enough endeavour. Except my class, who usually can’t shut up if their lives depend on it, have all the singing volume and skill of one of Yvie and Scarlet’s cat’s chew toys. They don’t even sound like cats being strangled, that’d probably be louder. It’s like trying to have a sing-song with a room full of laryngitis patients. Except it’s not a room, because apparently we’re not allowed to sing inside because of covid. But I can teach Phonics and the kids can all make the ‘p’ sound at me until their hearts’ content and shower me with their spit like the world’s shittiest production of Singin’ In The Rain? Anyway, we have to rehearse outside. In December. I think my feet actually fell off.”

As Nina finally finished what had unintentionally become a fully-fledged rant, Monet attempted to compose herself as she wiped away a small tear of laughter from her eye and clutched at her belly. Nina watched as her girlfriend took a few deep breaths, then fixed her with a humoured grin. “But apart from all that, how was your day?”

Nina stuck her tongue out at her in response. “Shut up. How was yours?”

Monet rolled her eyes as she speared a bean. “Awful. Tried to assess time with my class today. God I love them, Neens, but they’re so bad, how can they be that bad?”

“If anyone can help them progress, it’s you,” Nina smiled encouragingly, only getting a shaken head in reply.

“No, I can’t. Nobody can. They’re beyond help. Some of the answers I got today wouldn’t even be believable if they were part of some TV comedy show. What month is Christmas in? ‘Santa’. The kid answered Santa. How many months are there in a year? ‘Sixty six’. How many days are there in a week? ‘Two’. TWO!” Monet cried, outraged. Nina couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up in her throat, and Monet pointed warningly at her in response. “Don’t you dare laugh. This is my reality.”

“Hey, you laughed at my Nativity nightmare!” Nina giggled, to which Monet chuckled guiltily. Nina paused to swipe a bit of toast around the plate with her fork, mopping up any stray tomato sauce. When she looked up from her plate, she saw Monet tapping at her phone. Nina frowned disapprovingly. “Hey. No phones at the table.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Monet apologised quickly, though didn’t put her phone down yet. “Monique’s just sent me a screenshot of her friend that’s getting engaged. Look at the damn size of this ring.”

Monet turned her phone to show Nina. Pictured was a diamond the size of a small Pacific nation and a band encrusted with tiny gems on the finger of somebody she’d never met. Nina couldn’t help the way she screwed her face up, which made Monet blurt a laugh in response. “Not a fan, then?”

Nina pulled a face in thought. She was sure that kind of ring made some girls happy, but to her it just seemed tacky and over-the-top, not to mention heavy. “I’m sure she likes it, but I wouldn’t want something that huge. Imagine working in a Reception class with that?! Play-dough stuck in all the little crevices. And Jesus, what if you lost it? Nah, it would stress me out owning that. I would just want one simple little gold band and one singular tiny diamond. Much less of a burden.”

Monet snorted a laugh as she finished her last mouthful of dinner. “You are the only girl I’ve ever met that would consider an engagement ring a burden. Christ on a crucifix.”

“Well!” Nina protested, before realising she didn’t really have anything else to defend herself with. Then, she narrowed her eyes at her girlfriend playfully, kicking her under the table. “Why’re you so interested in my engagement ring opinions, anyway? You asking?”

Monet chuckled as she put her phone face-down on the table. “Bold of you to assume I can afford council tax, never mind a diamond.”

Nina smiled, shrugging in agreement. “Yeah, fair. What should we do tonight? I have Maths jotters to mark but then that’s me done.”

Monet tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “I would say fucking our shit days out but I don’t even have the energy to operate a vibrator.”

Nina almost choked on her food as she laughed. “Christ, that’s a mood. Finish dinner, pyjamas, rewatch The Office for the ninety billionth time then bed at 7pm?”

“Sounds good, babe,” Monet smiled, lifting her glass of water up to cheers with as if it was sparkling wine.

***

“Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way! Oh McFun it is to ride in a waffle sofen sleigh, HEY! Jingle bells, Jin-”

“Woah, woah, woah, woah, woah,” Nina cut in, waving her hands frantically and stopping the twenty-three five and four year olds that had previously been singing their little kidney bean-sized lungs out. “What are the words?”

Her class stared back at her as if she’d just asked her what twenty-eight times thirteen was. Although Jeremiah, who was already working at Year 5 level, could probably have worked that out given enough time.

“Oh what fun it is to ride in a one horse open sleigh,” Nina said, rhythmically and clearly. “You try.”

The children all parroted it back to her in their little voices, word-perfect. Thank God, thought Nina. Jingle Bells seemed to be the only song they recognised, so if they turned out to not know it after all then Nina would very probably need an inhaler despite the fact she wasn’t at all asthmatic.

“Let’s try it with the music!” Nina said cheerfully, making sure the bluetooth speaker she’d brought outside was still on.

“Miss West,” a small voice piped up belonging to Amber, the human embodiment of a whine. “I’m cold!”

“We’ll get inside soon!” Nina replied patiently. “Just let’s practise it one more time!”

“I’m cold too,” piped up Joshua, Amber’s male counterpart.

“I’m freezing,” Amber offered again.

“I know, it’s very cold outside!” Nina smiled sympathetically, even though her teeth were gritted. “But we can’t do our singing inside because of the virus!”

“Why not?” Amber pouted.

Nina didn’t really know. The answer was because of the care inspectorate guidelines, but that was incredibly far beyond the realms of a five-year-old’s comprehension. Just then, an idea struck her.

“Well we need to sing our songs outside so that Santa can hear them when he’s taking his sleigh out for a test drive!” she said animatedly. The wide eyes and ohhhh-s she received in reply made her feel like a genius. Move over, Steven Hawking. “Okay, one more time with Jingle Bells. Nice and loud for Santa!”

“Miss West?”

Nina blinked slowly and heavily, taking a small breath before answering the newest child that demanded her attention. “Yes, Sophie?”

“I’m cold.”

“I’m cold!! We’re all cold!!” Nina replied quickly, just that shade away from snapping so that her class knew she meant business. “We’re doing the song one more time and then we’re going inside! So nice big smiles, nice loud voices, and here…we…go!”

Nina pressed play on the song before any more children could regale her with tales of how their body temperatures had dropped to that of a snowman’s.

“Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way!” they all enthusiastically sang. “Oh McFun it is to ride in a waffle sofen sleigh!”

Nina rubbed so hard at her tired eyes that she thought they might disappear into her skull. She was momentarily glad of the fact that she didn’t have a teaching assistant to help her, as to have any other adult witness this would be embarrassing in the extreme.

Just then she noticed around five parents queued up at the nursery adjacent to the playground, watching with wry smiles on their faces as they waited for their children.

“One more time!” Nina cried, as she stopped the music with freezing cold hands.

***

“So Nina, when you gonna wife your girlfriend?”

Nina very nearly spat out her tea, a horrifying milky brown hurricane only just avoided. She hadn’t been expecting to answer deep, meaningful life questions in the staffroom during a lunch hour, but Willam was the human incarnation of petrol on a campfire and with her around things were always in danger of going from zero to a hundred very quickly. To Nina’s relief Courtney was also in the staffroom, and she whipped around from the countertop and gave her girlfriend daggers.

“Willam!” Courtney chastised her in a hiss that Nina wasn’t quite sure was meant to be audible. Willam only gave her an incredulous glare, affronted that she seemed to be the voice of reason in the conversational chaos.

“What?! Just askin’. I mean you’re what…twenty-nine? Twenty eight?”

“Twenty-six,” Nina replied. She was now at the age where being assumed she was older than she was was a curse, not a blessing. (If she’d told seventeen-year-old Nina that one day she would be disappointed at no longer being ID’d for wine at Sainsburys she’d have laughed in her face.)

“Exactly. That’s wifeing age. Mid to late twenties.”

“Hey, I passed that stage long ago, where the hell’s my ring?“ Courtney asked Willam, stirring the coffee she’d poured into one of the many, many “World’s Best Teacher!” mugs that littered the staffroom cupboards. Willam responded by turning around in her chair and positioning her pencil skirt-clad ass in the air.

“Right here, bitch!”

“Christ Almighty,” Courtney turned away from her, rolling her eyes so hard they looked like little spheric dice. As Willam gave her best impression of a seal on laughing gas, Nina cast her eyes over to Sasha who was sitting at the other end of the staffroom. As they caught each others’ eyes they shared a long-suffering smile that mourned the death of peace and quiet.

Nina was glad the conversation had been diverted from the subject of her perceived lack of marriage plans. Until Sasha opened her mouth, that is.

“I wouldn’t worry, Nina. Me and Shea haven’t had that conversation either. I mean we’d both love to, but there’s more important stuff for us right now, you know? We’re saving for a house and I think we’d rather live in a place we’ve chosen for the foreseeable future than just having one singular big lavish day.”

“It’s all about what you want to do with the person you love the most, isn’t it? Not just doing what society wants you to do,” Courtney chipped in, her voice warm and kind. “Like me and Willam used to be total party girls before we got our shit together. And now, like…there’s nothing I’d rather do of a weekend than curl up with her on the sofa and get all cosy with a film and a blanket and a cup of tea.”

Willam scoffed affectionately. “That’s your ideal weekend plan? What are you, forty?”

“Yes? As are you?” Courtney replied incredulously. Nina heard Sasha snort in her chair. As she turned her gaze back to the other two girls she realised that Willam was still looking at her expectantly. Nina sank back into her seat, a little reserved.

“It’s not really something we’ve spoken about? Well…no, we have spoken about it, obviously,” she babbled, watching as Willam took on the look of someone witnessing a victim of cardiac arrest. “Like we both want to get married. To each other, of course. But teaching is just such a busy job all the time and…you know, we only bought our flat last Summer and…I don’t know, it’s nice not to have everything happen all at once, right?”

Courtney nodded emphatically in agreement. “Of course! And I mean, if she asked, you’d say yes, right?”

Nina had to stop herself from pulling a face. How am I having this conversation with my boss? “Well, yeah. God, I couldn’t imagine life without her at all.”

Willam pretended to gag, which Nina thought was pretty rich from the woman who had begun the entire conversation. Courtney seemed to pick up on her girlfriend’s distaste.

“I don’t think Willam has ever said anything that cute about me!”

Willam turned around to look at her girlfriend, disbelief on her face. “Yeah, I only left my damn husband for you. Fuck me, right?”

Nina’s eyes widened as Sasha gave a yelp from across the staffroom. That was a small piece of workplace gossip she hadn’t expected to learn today. As Courtney’s face turned red and she shot Willam a warning glare, she turned to Nina once more.

“Nina, how’s the Nativity going?” Courtney beamed artificially at her, moving the conversation along with all the grace and decorum of a one-wheeled snow plow.

Considering the question, Nina thought that she’d rather be discussing marriage plans with her boss and colleagues again. “It’s going.”

“That’s a ringing endorsement. I’m sure that was on the poster of Titanic too,” Willam chipped in.

“It wouldn’t be any less disastrous than the actual fate of the Titanic, at least the passengers could’ve probably remembered the words to fucking Jingle Bells,” Nina deadpanned, causing Willam to break into fits of clubbed seal laughter.

Sasha pouted sympathetically from the other side of the room. “It’s those cute bits that the parents love, though, isn’t it? They won’t mind if they get the words wrong.”

“I’m sure there needs to be a foundation of at least an audible tune though, Sash,” Nina smiled resignedly back at her.

“If Bianca wants a Nativity so bad, just tell her to come teach your class,” Willam half-suggested, half-yelled. “Or get Court to teach them! They prolly don’t need to be in tune anyway!”

Courtney’s expression appeared to be the same as Nina’s after her morning’s rehearsal. “Do you ever stop talking shit?”

“You think I’m bad? That bell is going to go for the Comp’s lunch break in five minutes, Bob is gonna arrive, an’ then it’s RIP our eardrums,” Willam said, pointing to the staffroom door for dramatic effect.

“At least Bob has never presented his clothed arsehole to his partner in front of his colleagues,” Courtney cut in at once, her tone deadpan and making Nina splutter a laugh.

“Aw, c’mon Court! That’s just banter. These girls don’t mind.”

“It’s unprofessional!” Courtney clutched her chest. Willam only snorted in response.

“Unprofessional? What are you, forty?”

“We’re the same age!!” Courtney cried in response, her incredulous tone only setting Nina off in a further fit of laughter.

It was only later on that night once she had driven back home, parked, and approached her and Monet’s flat that Nina remembered the staffroom conversation. She cast her gaze up to their first-floor window in their red brick building, almost being able to feel the way her heart gave a swell at the sight of their Christmas tree framed proudly within the glass. And as she got in through the front door, Monet greeted her with a hug and a takeaway leaflet.

“We’ve got nothing in the fridge, so I thought we could get noodles? This came through the door today and I think-” Monet raises her eyebrows, slapped the leaflet into the palm of her hand decisively. “- it’s a sign from God.”

“Well, when you put it like that,” Nina laughed, shrugging off her coat and feeling grateful for not having to cook.

It was only when they were both curled up on the couch, empty pad thai containers in front of them, that Nina turned to Monet and saw the lights on the tree reflected in her eyes. She turned to her girlfriend, threw an arm round her and snuggled in to her side.

“What’s up?” Monet asked, her voice soft and sleepy and a little concerned.

“Nothing,” Nina sighed. It was true. There wasn’t really anything up, and she was the happiest she’d ever been. But she still turned to Monet, tilting her head up inquisitively. “You don’t feel under any pressure at all, do you?”

Monet snorted. “I feel under pressure to get fifteen children who can’t write the word cat on their own to magically be able to write a sentence by the end of the year, yeah.”

Nina rolled her eyes. “No! I mean, like…in life. You didn’t just…buy this flat with me because you felt you had to, right? You wouldn’t do anything because you felt obliged to?”

Monet raised a single eyebrow back at her. “Yeah, I decided to piss my life savings away on a deposit for a flat because I felt I had to. Jesus Christ, Neens.”

“No, no, I know,” Nina chuckled, realising how silly the whole thing now sounded. “But I just mean…in life, like milestones and stuff. You’d never do stuff because you felt you had to keep up, in some way? Reach some goal by a certain age?”

Monet brought an arm around Nina and cuddled her closer, kissing her hair and resting her chin on top of her head. “Everything I do in life, I do because I want to. Especially when it comes to you. Promise.”

Nina gave her girlfriend a squeeze, happy. She took a deep breath, smelt the fabric softener on Monet’s jumper that they both used but just seemed to smell better and feel softer on everything Monet wore.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

***

Nina sat in a child-sized chair with her knees practically up to her chest, a crumpled, printed-out script on her lap that she’d hastily typed up on her work iPad’s notes app the following evening. Her class sat behind her in costumes pulled on over their school uniforms, with books and pens and pieces of paper with botched photocopying on the back under strict instructions not to talk until the whole thing was filmed.

“Okay, Amber!” she smiled breezily at the small girl whose school blouse was sticking out under her angel costume. “You’re kicking off the video. So your line is two thousand years ago, an angel came to a woman called Mary. Practise it for me?”

Amber gripped the hem of her taffeta skirt in two tiny white-knucked fists. “I don’t want to.”

Nina bit her lip. Great start. Fantastic. “We can give it a try together?”

Reluctantly, Amber parroted the words in tandem with her. So far so good.

“Okay. Now do you want to go up against the backdrop and I can film you doing it?”

Amber’s ponytail full of flyaways swung wildly as she shook her head. Nina thought for a moment. Then her eyes came to rest on Hazel- the class’ Mary and, coincidentally, Amber’s best friend.

“What about if Hazel stands with you?”

That seemed to change things and, only slightly hesitantly, both girls got up in front of the hastily staple-gunned silver tinsel.

“Okay Amber. Two thousand years ago, an angel came to a woman called Mary. Ready?”

A nod in reply.

“Go!”

Amber took a deep, shaky breath in. “Two thousand years ago….a woman called Mary.”

Nina stopped filming, fixed the girl with a kind smile. “An angel came to a woman called Mary. Try again?”

The iPad was back in filming mode, and Amber went again. “Two thousand years ago, a…a…a little cute angel came to Mary.”

Nina stopped filming, fixed Amber with two thumbs up. That’ll do.

Things seemed to be going well as Hazel and Oliver (or, Mary and Angel Gabriel) got through their lines without too many bumps in the road. Then, it was time for Amber to take to the stage (or blue curtain with a tinsel border) once more.

“Okay Amber, so your line this time is…Mary told her husband Joseph. Want to practise?”

“Mary told her husband Joseph,” Amber repeated, with all the enthusiasm of a patient about to undergo a colonoscopy. With two days til the deadline, this would have to suffice.

“Perfect! Ready? Three…two…one…go!” Nina smiled encouragingly, as she hit record.

Amber stood beside Mary and Joseph, a little grin on her own face. “Mary told her husband Joyce.”

“…Joseph,” Nina reminded her. Where the fuck had Joyce come from? She hit record again.

“Three…two…one…go!”

“Mary told her husband Joyce.”

Nina couldn’t stop herself from bursting out laughing. “Joseph, Amber!”

The little girl nodded earnestly. “Joseph Amber.”

Nina spluttered. “No…Amber is your name. Joseph is Mary’s husband.”

“Ohhhhhh.”

Nina shook her head, amused. This was what she loved about teaching. None of the other girls working from home could say that they got to spend their day feeling like they were stuck in an episode of You’ve Been Framed.

“Go again. Mary told her husband Joseph. Three…two…one…”

“Mary told…em…um…I can’t remember,” Amber giggled. Nina could feel her own giggles bubbling up inside herself, but she had to stop otherwise it would set her whole class off.

“Mary told her husband Joseph,” Nina repeated, both Amber and Hazel now giggling to each other. “Shh shh! Okay…three…two…one…”

Amber composed herself, took a deep breath. “Mary told her husband Joyce.”

Christ Alive. Nina gasped incredulously, unable to help herself from laughing now. The whole class, Amber herself, and Nina was pretty sure God, were all doing the same. She put her head in her hands, her whole body now shaking with laughter. “Joseph!!”

She already couldn’t wait to tell everybody she knew this story. Not least so she could cement in her mind that it was something that actually happened to her, and not just simply the script of a comedy show she’d dreamed up. Miraculously, mercifully, she managed to get the rest of her class settled down and for Amber to say the correct line on film, even if Nina could be faintly heard frantically mouthing “Joseph!” in the background.

Eventually they reached the innkeepers. Easy enough, in theory.

“Okay, Carter,” Nina smiled encouragingly at the first innkeeper. “When Mary and Joseph ask for a room, you say ‘no, sorry!’. Okay?”

Carter nodded, half a finger stuck up his nose. Nina gestured to him to put his hands down, then began filming. As directed, Mary and Joseph asked if there was any room at the inn.

“YES,” the little boy shouted. The whole class burst out laughing. Nina did not.

Just then, Willam walked past the open door with her class. She gave her a look of inquisition, shooting her a tentative, questioning thumbs up.

Nina put her head in her hands in reply.

***

By some miracle of nature (although it could also have been Nina giving up on work that afternoon) Nina had made it back to the flat before five o’clock. This never happened- five pm was usually the time she left work, but a day full of recording Nativity clips and then putting them together on iMovie while her class played (read; caused havoc) had been tiring and she needed Monet, chocolate, and Merlot.

Only the first thing she heard when she opened the door to her flat wasn’t Monet singing, or the hum of the extractor fan. It was the grainy crackle of a Zoom call and an incredibly distinctive voice.

“So when you doin’ it? Do it tonight. Do it when she gets home from work.”

Monet’s voice- humoured, long-suffering. “I’m not doing it then, Vanj, she’ll be exhausted.”

“That was honestly your best suggestion? When she gets home from work?” Brooke’s voice. “Aren’t you the pinnacle of romance!”

Nina had realised that Monet was on a Zoom call with all the girls, from the way Vanessa had obviously kissed Brooke on camera was being met with half a dozen cries in protest from the others. She excitedly shrugged off her coat and unwrapped herself from her scarf, eager to see her friends again. Part of her was intrigued, though. Why were they all calling each other without her?

“My question is how you’re going to do it,” Akeria’s voice came, as questioning as always. “It needs to be good but it better not be too damn cheesy.”

“An’ you better make sure she got her nails done, she might say no if she ain’t got her nails done!” Silky came shouting through Monet’s Macbook speakers.

“Yeah, you better make it as romantic as you can, Mo,” Scarlet added, making Nina wonder what the hell it was they were all talking about. Before she could wonder any further, she heard Yvie’s distinctive snort of a laugh.

“You are in no position to speak about romance, I mean, need I remind you how you asked me?”

“Shut up,” Scarlet replied, her tone a little bashful as the other girls laughed.

“Monet I could hire you a plane if you really wanted,” Plastique offered, making Nina snort despite the fact she had no idea what the conversation was about.

“Shut up, bitch,” Nina could practically hear the roll of Akeria’s eyes.

Nina toed her shoes off and finally padded through to the kitchen, where Monet’s eyes grew wide when she saw her, her body visibly flinching.

“Hey, babe!” she smiled, looking a little startled. “You’re home earlier than usual!”

“Oh sorry, am I interrupting your Zoom call with all your side chicks?” Nina deadpanned, forcing her way onto Monet’s lap to see her friends on the screen.

“Ninaaa!!!” Vanessa’s face popped up first, her friend waving excitedly as she sat on her sofa in Brooke’s arms. “How are you, girl?”

“Shattered,” Nina sighed, rubbing her eyes harshly. “Just filmed the whole Nativity with the rugrats today. Think it took ten years off my lifespan. How’re you?”

“Good,” Brooke smiled back through the screen. “We ordered our Christmas food today. Trying to convince this one that we don’t need twelve pigs in blankets between two people.”

Vanessa scowled back at her from their position on the sofa. “Uh, yes the hell we do!”

“Twelve pigs in blankets as well as the turkey, stuffing, and all the veg? Y’all are gonna explode,” Akeria said disapprovingly.

“Kiki! How are you?” Nina cried with delight, seeing her friend’s tired but smiling face appear on screen.

“Good. Don’t stop work for a while yet, but it’s fine. Still flat hunting.”

“How’s Pri?” Nina asked, heartened by the way Akeria looked down, trying and failing to suppress a smile.

“Yeah, she’s good. Still batshit crazy. Horny all the time.”

“The ideal girlfriend, really,” Yvie said, a wry smile on her face.

“Nina!” Silky suddenly cut in, yelling. “Did you hear any of what we were talkin’ about before?”

Nina frowned, shook her head. “Something about planes and nails. And cheese. I’m too exhausted to have paid enough attention. Why, were you having a mad bitchfest about me?”

“Trying to ask the girls how best to dump you,” Monet deadpanned. Nina shot Monet a look and squeezed her leg, resulting in her girlfriend yelping and cracking her knee off the table.

Whatever the previous conversation was was soon forgotten about as excited catchups took over. Silky was excited as she was interviewing some singer that Nina had never heard of and wanted the girls to help her work out what questions she was going to ask her. Yvie and Scarlet were lamenting the fact they had to host both of their families for Christmas and had bought a turkey so big Scarlet wasn’t sure it would fit in their oven, and Plastique was telling them the weirdest things she’d been gifted by companies desperate for her to endorse them on Instagram.

“I got a box of sex toys from LoveHoney. That was probably the most random. Me and Naomi had a wild fucking night that night.”

“STOP BEIN’ GROSS,” Silky had yelled down the line, causing Nina to hammer Monet’s volume down button.

Eventually the call came to an end, but not before lots of promises to catch up soon once the situation across the world was better than the shitshow it was currently. As Monet closed her laptop, Nina threw her arms around her neck and nuzzled into her side.

“I miss them,” she sighed, and Monet patter her back comfortingly.

“I know, babe. I miss them too.”

There was a moment of pensive silence, and then Nina spoke again, the Nativity never too far away from her mind.

“I can’t export this video.”

“What?”

“The Nativity video. I can’t export it,” Nina muttered pitifully against her girlfriend’s shoulder.

Monet kissed her hair, making to stand up. “You get a cup of tea. I’ll fix your video.”

“You’re the best,” Nina sighed gratefully, walking over to the kettle.

It was only after she’d sat down with a cup of tea and Monet had promised she’d sorted her video that Nina thought about the conversation she’d walked in on earlier.

She had a strange feeling that it had something to do with her.

***

When Nina arrived at work that morning, she could tell something was…a little different. She couldn’t really tell what it was. It started with the slightly knowing smile Tatianna shot her from across the corridor.

“Congrats, Nina!” she shouted down to her before she ducked into her own classroom.  

“Uh…thanks,” she replied a little too late. Okay, the Nativity process had been stressful, but did she really need congratulated?

She supposed she appreciated it. It had been a whirlwind of a process, after all.

Only the odd thing was, it continued. The congratulations came pouring in; Alaska, Ivy from the Nursery school, Alyssa had cooed and gushed for ages about how exciting it was and how happy she was for her.

Nina had only blinked in reply, a little bewildered. “Thanks, Alyssa. It was a stress, but they managed to pull it off in the end.”

Alyssa gave her a funny look, then realisation seemed to dawn on her. “Oh…they’re non-binary! You know I never knew that, sorry sugar. Well congratulations to you both.”

With that, Alyssa hurried away only leaving Nina more confused than ever.

What in the fuck?

When the bell rang and Nina went to collect her class from the line, things only got weirder. Before she could hurry her class inside, Harry’s Mum waved at her from behind the school gate, beckoning her over. Nina’s heart began to sink- she was going to ask her why Harry was only a shepherd, wasn’t she, or why he didn’t get a solo during Little Donkey, or some-other-bullshit-like-that.

To Nina’s surprise, she held up a sparkly gift bag.

“Hi, sorry for bothering you!” she beamed at her. This was already unheard of- a parent apologising for taking up her time? Nina was beginning to question if she had slipped through a crack in the fabric of reality while she’d been sleeping when Harry’s Mum spoke again. “Me and the other parents had a quick whipround and got you a couple of things and a little card to say congratulations! We thought it was the least we could do given your lovely news.”

It was only after Nina had thanked her profusely, taken the bag and led her children into class that her words sank in. What lovely news was she on about?

Nina taught that morning in a daze. Well, ‘taught’ was pushing it; the last few days of term were always movie days or games days, and today was the former. Nina had decided to inject a bit of an educational element to it by showing her class Nativity and then asking them if they thought the film’s play was better than the one they’d put on. Despite it being one of her favourite Christmas films, though, she still wondered why everyone had been congratulating her today. Maybe her Nativity video had really been so amazingly good that people just had to comment on it. Nina decided that this was the only plausible explanation, and so was feeling particularly spirited as it reached breaktime and she sent the kids out to play.

She was sitting in her classroom reading all the messages she’d missed on her group chat when Willam practically crashed through her door.

“Oh my God!” she yelled, practically vibrating with excitement. “Congratulations, you lucky fucker! That’s gotta be the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen. I mean Bianca probably wants your head on a plate for keeping it in, but still! How’re you celebrating? Should we go to the shop at lunchtime and get prosecco? I mean it’s the last few days of term, I’m sure drinking on the job’s allowed. Court wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Willam was talking with such speed that it took a few seconds for Nina to register everything she’d said. “Why…would Bianca want my head on a plate?”

Willam snorted. “I mean it’s kinda obvious. You don’t think she’s gonna be pissed about it? Then again, maybe she won’t. I don’t know, I can’t get inside her head. I’m not on that Honey I Shrunk The Kids kinda bullshit.”

Nina felt her head was so clouded that even if she possessed the brightest fog lights in the world she still couldn’t see what Willam was trying to say.

“Willam,” she asked, slowly and carefully as she rested her head in her hands. “What the hell are you talking about?”

There was a pause as Willam froze, then as her eyes became huge and wide as she slowly raised a finger to point at Nina. “Jesus Harvey Christ. You…you don’t know, do you?”

Nina frowned, bewildered. “Know what?”

“Oh my God. You don’t know. This is the best thing ever. You don’t even know!” Willam howled with laughter, then, before Nina could ask what she was meant to not know, Willam had dashed out of her classroom and had begun yelling into the hall. “Courtney! Court! She doesn’t know!”

Nina began to feel her heart beat in heavy thuds as the bell went to signal the end of playtime. What didn’t she know?

Eventually Nina managed to reach the end of the day. How, she didn’t know. She was so confused by all the different odd events of the day that she felt she didn’t properly make sense at any point to her class, but that probably didn’t matter as they were all so wrapped up in Christmas nonsense that Nina could’ve left the classroom and they wouldn’t have given a shit.

She was just getting ready to leave work for the weekend when Bianca stuck her head into her classroom and made her almost jump fifty feet in the air.

“Nina,” she began, in her own blunt, abrasive way. She didn’t wait for Nina to greet her as she continued. “I know you must be wandering around with your head in the clouds at the moment, but next time do you think you could maybe just run the video by me first? I mean you’re very lucky that the parents took that well. I mean it’s really about the kids, y’know?”

Nina could only blink at her wide-eyed like a deer in the headlights, getting into trouble but not entirely sure what for. Loath to say anything in response, she simply nodded.

“I mean you should’ve really kept it out,” Bianca frowned. She let the awkward, tense silence hang in the air for a few moments before a humoured smile appeared on her face. “But congratulations. I’m very happy for you.”

Without stopping for Nina to reply, Bianca had turned on her heel and left her classroom. Nina could only look at the space she’d previously been standing in. Maybe all of this was a dream. A fever dream. She’d probably contracted some sort of illness and was experiencing some hallucinogenic vision.

She didn’t know how she made it home without causing a crash, but she managed, and as soon as she was through the door she began to vent to the person she loved most.  

“Monet!” she called through to the kitchen, hanging her belongings up. “I’ve had the weirdest fucking day in living memory. So first all the teachers were congratulating me…then I got a present from the parents…then Willam was screaming about me not knowing something…and then Bianca gave me a row at the end of the day…but I still don’t know exactly why…but then she said congratulations to me too?”

It was only when Nina stopped and walked through to the kitchen that she saw the kitchen table all done up with candles and laid beautifully, Nina’s favourite meal (slow cooker beef and buttery mash) on two plates, and Monet sitting at the table with her makeup done, dressed in a backless blue bodycon that Nina had once very nearly broke the zip of trying to rip it off her one weekend away.

“Uh…” Nina frowned, more confused than ever. Slowly, as a smile spread across Monet’s face, she began to connect all the dots of weird and the picture it presented illustrated that somehow her girlfriend had to be behind it all. “Okay, what’s going on?”

Monet got up and leant against the kitchen counter. She very gently took both of Nina’s hands in hers. “You didn’t watch the whole video once I exported it, did you?”

Something like dread crossed with excitement began to pool in Nina’s gut. She narrowed her eyes. “Monet…what did you do?”

Wordlessly, Monet reached back across to the table where she picked up her phone and loaded up the Nativity video. Skipping to the end, she got past the end of Jingle Bells and showed the video to Nina. The screen faded to black, and then, Nina watched as another little title card faded into view.

To the teacher that always gives so much of herself to others, I now want to give all of myself to you.

Miss West, will you marry me?

Love, Monet x

And suddenly everything in Nina felt as if it was made of fire, adrenaline and jet fuel. Her eyes flew open, her hand smacked against her shocked, gaping mouth. Her pulse raced and her heart hammered and all of her limbs turned to jelly to the extent she wasn’t sure she was able to stand any more. When she took her eyes off her phone screen and looked at Monet, her girlfriend was down on their kitchen floor, down on one knee like in every princess movie Nina had ever seen, her hair soft and curled and loose on her shoulders and a bright smile on her painted taupe lips. Gemstone tears brimmed in her dark eyes and hung from her lashes like icicles, and there, in her outstretched hands, was an open navy box.

Inside was a ring - gold band, one small diamond - and it was when Nina saw it that she gave a sob, her own tears springing from her eyes like a broken fountain, uncontrollable and erratic.

“Oh, baby, c’mere,” Monet gave a small laugh, shaking her head and immediately rising from the floor to wrap her arms around her in a hug. Nina took a few shaky, shallow breaths, pawing at Monet’s chest to release herself from her grip and look her in the eyes.

“You! You knew…all this time, and you…you put it in the video, oh my GOD, Monet, I could’ve got in so much trouble…I did get in so much trouble, oh my God…and you didn’t even tell me-”

“I thought you’d at least watch the damn thing through before you uploaded it!” Monet burst out laughing through her tears, and Nina joined in in a lightheaded, giddy way.

“I can’t believe this is real. Fuck. My whole body feels like that time we did poppers in Crete. Oh my God. Is this happening? You want to marry me?”

“Well, I would love to marry you, but I’m waiting on an answer,” Monet smiled bashfully, bringing her arm out from around Nina’s waist and holding the ring up so Nina could see it.

The diamond only seemed to glisten more when she saw it through the tears in her own eyes, and the gold shone warm like the brightest star. It was an engagement ring- her engagement ring- and it was real, and it was surreal, but Monet was in front of her waiting for an answer with tears in her eyes and hope in her heart that matched her own.

And Nina had never been one to say no to anything.