#i really liked that blender and i almost cried when i saw how much a new one in the current model costs

[mittensmorgul]

Kitchen Nightmares

That's what Mr. Mittens has dubbed the day i have been having. And it's fitting.

Important to know before I begin this tale, though not actually part of the tale:

Our heat pump has been awaiting repairs for about a week now. The heat works, but not WELL. It's painful knowing we're paying like 3x what we should be to keep the house warm while waiting for the Very Expensive Part needed to fix the thing. The part has been received by the repairdude and he's coming out tomorrow to complete the Very Expensive Repair, but in the meantime, we're trying desperately not to run the heat as much as possible. It would kinda suck to break it even worse (and even More Expensively) right before it's scheduled to get fixed.

Okay, now back to the actual Kitchen Portion of this essay...

Last night, I thought it would be fun to make dutch babies as a late night snack. Wednesday is Mr. Mittens' night off every week, and we always have some sort of pastry or other sweet treat with our coffee and then watch bad tv together for a few hours. It's a tradition! So my sister gave us a recipe for dutch babies made in a muffin tin... tiny dutch babies! What a fun idea, right?!

Well I got the ingredients all measured out into the blender, go to turn it on, and... the motor whirs and it SOUNDS like something should be happening, but nothing is actually happening! the ingredients remain a congealed mass in the bottom of the blender.

When I lift the pitcher to make sure i got the blades in securely or whatever, a bunch of heavy plastic nubs go skittering across the counter. These are the nubs on the blender base that engage the blades inside the pitcher. And they are very clearly no longer attached to the blender.

Now, this is a fairly old blender. I've probably had it about 20 years. I don't use it very often, but when I do, it's because I specifically need a blender for that task. And it's a Good Quality Blender! It's a Kitchen Aid! It's not supposed to do this! But it did... with a cup of flour, a cup of milk, and four eggs rapidly turning into something resembling wet concrete in the bottom of the pitcher.

Well, luckily i also own an immersion blender, but I'm not dumb enough to jam it down into the big blender pitcher to engage in some sort of hand-held spinning blades duel, so I scrape all that pseudo-batter into a mixing bowl and have at it. All the while, the muffin tin has been pre-heating in the oven and is starting to smell a little strange.

I pull it out, drop a pat of butter into each well, and pour in the batter, which i'm already not sure retains the correct proportions of ingredients, since it was truly impossible to get everything out of the blender. I was doing my best! I WAS DOING MY BEST!

My best was truly sub-par...

So i get it in the oven, and toward the end of the bake time, it was getting a little smokey in there. Ah, crap, some of the batter overflowed and splatted on the bottom of the oven, but the dutch babies actually turned out pretty tasty! So at least there's that... Aside from being like three times as messy as they should've been, and requiring a lot more cleanup than it should've taken, and my now destroyed blender that I'm pretty sure can't be repaired... well... it was almost one in the morning, i was tired, the oven was still hot, I figured I'd just clean up the spilled mess in the oven in the morning.

That... was a mistake.

Because by morning, I'd totally forgotten about it.

Until Mr. Mittens decided he'd make himself a frozen pizza. So he turned on the oven.

The kiddo was in the kitchen toasting a bagel, I was in the living room typing on my laptop, and when he went in to put the pizza in the oven, the kid was like "uh i think something's smoking a little in there?"

And they opened the oven door only to find it was literally on fire!

so... they closed the oven door and called out to me to alert me to this fact.

"uh, hon... i think the oven's on fire..."

and since this is apparently an event beyond the comprehension of my spouse and my adult kid, I put down the laptop and drag my ass out of my chair and go in the kitchen.

Mr. Mittens and kiddo are just standing there, staring at the smoke now pouring out of the oven vent, like... okay what do we do now?

I was like "wait, you saw fire and just closed the oven door?"

they shrug

I began by turning off the oven, as you do in circumstances like these, then opened the door and started... trying to blow out the fire. as you do... ?

when that quite obviously failed, i grabbed the fire extinguisher and had the fire out in like half a second.

But then I had twice as much mess to clean up as I would've if I'd only remembered the stupid dutch baby spill before the oven got turned on again.

So... mr mittens dejectedly put his pizza back in the freezer and i waited for the oven to get cool enough to clean. I couldn't even air out the house, because it's below freezing outside, and my poor heat pump would've likely exploded trying to counteract having all the damn windows open. So we sat in our smoky house while I made us grilled cheese sandwiches and waited for the oven to cool off.

Then I cleaned out the entire damn oven, and it's fine, nothing truly damaged, just a little bit gross. Thank heck. If anything else breaks, I might start screaming and not be able to stop.

I also don't want to clean anything else. But unfortunately I need to do laundry next... At least I had a nice grilled cheese, and some dutch babies. And the oven's clean.

[epersonae]

You've made me mad with power. Director's Cut of "I Spit On Your Grave", please.

Obviously I wanted -- no, needed -- to write a fic where Stede finds out what actually happened with Izzy while he was gone.

It is a key aspect of my Bad Ending fic in case I never make it through to where you are that Stede does NOT know, because I think otherwise he would have actually killed Izzy in that fic. I had a lovely long conversation with my therapist about that, both that fic generally and this question of knowing what was done to someone you love who is gone. Because HOOBOY did s2 kick up all my feelings about Ryn's parents, especially their mother; there was a piece of information that I found out after Ryn died that made me so angry I did seriously have a full-blown panic attack about it.

So yeah, I was always going to write something, but part of my writing process especially with shorter works is that I need a hook, something to get me into it -- an image or a sentence, something concrete to pull together whatever messy ideas have been spinning around in the blender.

And of course, I might have written it sooner (and it would have been a different fic) but I did break my leg right before Christmas, and that basically took me out not just physically but also mentally for about two months. I actually started making some notes in late January but I didn't have any stamina to do the writing until late February.

I knew the hook was going to be a bit back from the actual harm -- I've been fascinated by this question of how Izzy never says that "his captain" is actually Blackbeard since way back in my first watches of the show, and then there's kind of a running joke around here about how Stede always leads describing the meet-cute with "so I'd been gut-stabbed" like babygirl what. And the phrase "just happened upon our ship" or whatever that is, when MY DUDE HE'S BEEN FOLLOWING YOU THIS WHOLE TIME. The whole thing has this mix of Izzy having been lying through his teeth and Stede being hilariously oblivious that cries out for something to dig into.

And then I saw this post by @iamadequate1, and OH OKAY. Because weaponized therapy language and isolation in emotional abuse is something that, well. Yeah. Plus it had all the relevant bits of dialogue in one post! Plus I'd been thinking about Izzy as an unreliable narrator for almost two years, and I'd been thinking specifically about people with uhhhhhh a "flexible relationship with the truth" (to use a line from the fic), and a tendency to say different things to different people in order to evade responsibility.

So I made some notes, according to the document history at the end of January, and then probably either went back to sleep or back to watching Perry Mason. Came back to it in late February, and the first two-thirds or so came together pretty quickly and then I got stuck. I knew I wanted something with Stede yelling at the grave, but I'd sort of written myself into a corner where that didn't seem to be happening. (Basically, got to the point where he holds Ed while Ed is crying.)

And then I saw THIS post by @celluloidbroomcloset, and something clicked together about "doggie heaven" and the parallel with Ned Low, and somehow that was the rug that tied the room together. Probably because also they're both dead, Izzy and Ned, and that leads to this question of the impossibility of revenge, and that so much of the time there's just nothing you can do, really, and that also hurts. Even if they're not dead; there's just no point, like what the fuck are you gonna do, exactly? Which is sort of where the Mary parallel comes in, I think, and also not giving Izzy credit for bringing them together, because that's all them.

All in all this is a really special fic for me, trying to find this balancing point where things are pretty good for them, actually, but they still need to work through their respective hurts and be properly seen -- fill in all the blanks so they can move forward.

[violet-yimlat]

This one is a little longer and darker than the other. Tw for the word “Suicide” and actual murder (he’ll be fine).

And if I may quote our king, Neil Gaiman:

“Lucifer was an idiot!”

Neil Gaiman, Neverwhere.

Featuring:

A Nightvale reference!

Violence!

Temptation!

The Archangel fucking Michael!

No sho- no wait I talk about the boots the angels are wearing.

Fuck.

The part I almost cried while writing because “This is home” was playing!

Enjoy! Unless it makes you sad!

Then you won’t.

Chapter four

Well, shit.

All Lucifer could do was fight, buy time, and hope that someone would show up before Michael got there.

He hadn’t fought these two angels before, or at least didn’t remember it, but he could make some guesses. Identical uniform, identical weapons, probably foot soldiers. Coordinated, but without the same bond or camaraderie as Ithuriel and Zephon. Standard training probably, maybe a little bit of specialist training to deal with him, but that wasn’t guaranteed. Little individuality and personality, probably not much fun to annoy.

But he was going to try.

He greeted the angels with a two-finger mock salute.

“‘Sup?”

Neither of the angels batted an eye, but one, taller, paler, mentally nicknamed “Erika”, did bat him into a wall with their powerful raven wings.

A swan’s wing can break your arm, an angel’s can shatter your very soul.

“Rude. Is that any way to greet an old enemy?”

The other angel, darker and stockier than the first, mentally nicknamed “Bitchiel”, kicked him in the ribs with the metal toe of their armoured boot.

Even on the ground, Lucifer wouldn’t give in. Or shut up.

“Hey! This waistcoat is new!”

Neither of the angels cared at all about his waistcoat. They just cared that he stayed on the ground, and was still there when Michael arrived.

It’s not like he hadn’t been in this situation before. He just had to make sure they didn’t-

Nope.

Too late. Bitchiel rolled him onto his front and pinned him with his foot.

So it was going to be like this. It was likely that he wasn’t going to make it out of there unscathed.

Oh well. Worst case scenario he was dead for a couple of days. A week, tops. He might miss the weekend, but he’d be alright after a fashion.

And if he wasn’t…

There were plans in place to deal with his extended absence. They had been necessary a few times, the most notable of which was the time when he had been hacked into pieces and cremated. It had taken him almost a month to pull himself back together. Half of Hell had assumed that he was dead and never coming back. His return had come as quite a shock to a quite a few people.

“Do you mind if I call someone?” Enquired Lucifer. “Only I have a feeling that I’m going to be dead for a week or two and I don’t want anyone to worry.”

“Actually, If all goes to plan,” corrected Erika, “you’ll be dead for much longer than two weeks.”

“All the more reason to keep them informed, then. How long’re we talking here?”

“Eternally.”

“Oh.”

Lucifer had never really been forced to grapple with his own mortality before, mostly because he was pretty sure that he didn’t have any. He hoped that the angels were bluffing, but most weren’t really the sort.

Angels almost never lied.

“So how am I going to die? Drowned in holy water and burned by holy fire? Won’t work. Exorcised to death? Won’t work. Beaten to a pulp, shoved in a blender and drank? Won’t work. Also drinking me would probably have some seriously nasty side effects.”

The angels glared at him with utter loathing.

“Have you ever seen what happens when humans drink demon blood? I saw it happen a few times in the old days.”He grimaced. “It wasn’t pretty. They were like, turning into demons but also melting. I think there was also a time when an angel forced to do it. That was worse. So much worse.” He half shuddered and half chuckled. “So Lucifer smoothie is not a valid option.”

He heard human footsteps approaching.

He spoke louder. The louder he was, the more attention he would get, the likelier someone would come down the alley and save his ass.

“What you theoretically could do is not kill me, but permanently bind me to, like, the sun or something. I’d be in pain, I couldn’t escape, but I’m alive and could maybe get an occasional visitor. Everyone wins! Especially when I eventually escape.”

The last part was a desperate attempt to influence the person who was walking past the alley opening.

The sound of footsteps faded away.

Erika bent down to look him in the eye. They smirked smugly.

“Ironically, they were listening to extremely loud black metal and they couldn’t hear anything.”

“Darn them and their incredible taste in music! Say, angel, if it were up to you, how would you have dealt with me?”

The angel pondered the question for a few moments.

“I would have left you an angel, but powerless and subservient to all. A slave to Heaven with no ability to cause trouble or pain to anyone.”

“So your opinion differs from the will of the lord?” He asked with mock horror, deliberately dropping the capital letter, “I was fairly sure that was a big ‘angel no-no’!”

“You’re the one who asked the question!” Protested the slightly flustered angel.

“Don’t listen to him, Camael. He’s trying to get you riled up and trick you into making a mistake.” Huffed Bitchiel.

“And how would you deal with me?”

The angel shifted their weight slightly, pressing their heel against his back. If he had a spine, it would have been broken.

“Silence, adversary. Your tricks won’t work on me.”

“Oh that’s a good one. Condemn me to silence. Can’t talk, can’t tempt. Although you’d have to remove my hands because sign language. And then you’d have to take my arms because I could probably use semaphore. And I could tap out morse code with my feet, so you’d have to get rid of those too. I could also do morse with my eyes, or even by opening and closing my mouth or shrugging my shoulders. So you couldn’t truly silence me unless you destroyed my physical form! Even then I could still possess someone so that isn’t really an all encompassing solution. You might as well kill me, to tell the truth, but I’ll give that idea a ‘C’ for imagination. Keep up the good work.”

“I meant that you should shut up. Ponder what you want your last words to be. Quietly.”

“But that would be boring.” He moaned. “And besides, it’s always fun to argue against someone less intelligent than yourself.”

“So you never have fun? I almost pity you.” Mocked Erika.

Lucifer grinned. This was going to be highly enjoyable.

“Fighting words from an angel with more wings than brain cells.”

“I’ll have you know that, on occasion, I have assumed a form with fifty wings and one hundred eyes.”

“That’s still only forty nine brain cells though.”

“Angels are all brain, all heart, all soul. We do not have ‘brain cells’ or any cells at all.”

“Is that why you’re such a worthless nobody? Haha. No-body.”

The angel bared their white, film star teeth in a snarl.

Oh good, thought Lucifer. They’re losing their temper. This is when they make mistakes. Mistakes like challenging him to a duel or attempting to kill him without the blessing of their superiors. There had been at least a dozen times when Lucifer had found his way back to Hell only to find the angel that has just killed him waiting there, having themself been condemned. It was really funny.

“What did I just say about not listening to him?” Chided Bitchiel. “Come on. You’re better than this.”

“You think you are above emotion? Please, nobody should deny their feelings. It’s not healthy.”

“I feel like kicking you in the face.” Growled Erika.

“Then by all means, kick away! I physically can’t stop you, what with your uptight friend standing on me, so please, kick my face.”

“Don’t do it, Camael. Don’t let him tempt you.”

“Do it, Camael. Make me feel your wrath. It’ll be very cathartic. My body may never have been a temple, but it might be a rage room for you. Just let it all out.”

He arranged his features into the most annoying smirk possible.

“Camael for heaven’s sake, don’t.”

“C’mon- I’m sorry what’s your name?”

“I’m not telling you that. We all know that your words have more power over us if you know our names.”

“I do? That’s news to me. How careless you must have been to let me learn Camael’s name. Say Camael, would you jump off a cliff if I told you to?”

“Probably not.”

“Only probably? Oh dear I must have some power over you. Anyway, as I was saying, why not let them exercise their free will for once. Let them make their own decisions. Such as the decision to kick me in the face!”

“Camael don’t.”

Erika stood up straight in front of Lucifer’s face. They pulled back their leg for a good swing…

And almost fell over when a flash of light and a sound like harps and thunder crashed down behind them.

The Archangel had arrived.

“Oh, c’mon!” Barked Lucifer “Michael you have the worst sense of timing. Camael was just about to succumb to temptation and you ruined it! Dude, this is why nobody likes you.”

“Barbiel, let the traitor stand. Camael, I’ll deal with you later.” Spake the Archangel. The two angels moved behind their superior and stood to attention, blocking the mouth of the alley and further narrowing Lucifer’s chance of escape.

He got to his feet, rolling his eyes.

“Good afternoon, sibling. Let’s make this easy. If you ‘kill’”— he flexed his fingers making air quotes around the last word —“me, I’ll be dead for a couple of weeks, and then I’ll be back. So why don’t we forego the violence and bloodshed and I just go to Hell and don’t come back for two weeks. Same effect, but I won’t have to go through all that ‘temporarily not existing’ bullshit. Hmm? What do you say. Do we have a deal?”

He held out his hand for the Archangel to shake. They looked at it as though they were being proffered a half decayed dead fish.

“I don’t make deals with your sort. And besides, your death would be much more convenient than having to explain why I let you go. You’re a liar, Satan. You wouldn’t stay in Hell for five minutes, let alone two weeks.”

Angels almost never lied, but Lucifer did so on the regular.

He shrugged.

“You’re right. Of course I wouldn’t. As much as I like Hell —Lovely place. You should visit sometime— it does get a bit dull if you can’t go anywhere else.”

The angel furrowed their brows. They were, as always, slightly disheveled. Other than their eyebrows and their wings —which were wide and strong with a gentle gradient from midnight blue at the top, to a pale lavender colour on the tips of the pinions, flecked with silver throughout but always slightly ruffled— Michael was impeccably neat. Their armour was always polished to a mirror shine without so much as a scratch. Their golden hair was straight as a pin and the exact same shade as their sharp almond eyes. They wore silver armour with gold trim and purple pauldrons and tassets (shoulder and thigh armour respectively). A lilac silk sash went from their left shoulder to right hip and matched the blazon on the centre of their breastplate; a golden, six-pointed star on a purple background. The only time their crisp white robe was ever stained was with blood. Usually Lucifer’s.

They sneered.

“What about me makes you think that I would ever want to visit Hell? It is a place of darkness and corruption, inhabited by traitors and lost souls. A place of eternal hopelessness and despair.” Michael paused for a moment “Also, you’re there. No thanks.”

“Oof. But seriously, if you hate me so much, then why are you always hunting me down?”

“I wish to bring about your ultimate demise and rid the world of your taint. Your existence is a stain upon creation and I long to see it come to an end.” Spat the Archangel, expelling each word like poison.

“Well that escalated quickly. So how do you plan to kill me? Keep in mind that I’m almost as immortal as you, my death would disturb the balance of the universe, and that I’m fairly well liked and might be avenged.”

“With this.” Gloated Michael, drawing an ornate, shining sword seemingly from thin air. The blade was perhaps a meter long and five centimetres across, pure white except for a thin golden line down its centre. The hilt was also golden, with a rounded white pommel and a cross guard in the shape of outstretched wings. The whole thing glowed with otherworldly divine radiance.

Lucifer was momentarily taken aback.

“It looks just like-”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Spite. And we needed to control all the variables.”

Part of him, long suppressed and near dead, longed to touch it. To hold it. To feel the weight of the holy weapon in his cursed hands. But the overwhelming majority of his being was screaming “Danger!”, telling him to run, warning him that yes, this might actually be the death of him.

Stay calm Lucifer, keep cool.

“So you’re planning to kill me with a replica of my own sword. How original I’m sure you’re very proud of that.”

“We are, actually. Do you know how hard it is to replicate a divine weapon if it doesn’t exist anymore and all you have to go on is vague memories from millennia ago?”

“You got the pommel wrong. Mine is more diamond-shaped. And the accent colour was copper rather than gold.”

“It should work the same way, though.”

“Oh”

The panic was beginning to set in, but so was the annoyance. How dare they use his own magic against him.

He had, at one point a long, long, time ago, had a nearly identical weapon. He hadn’t lost it, but it was different now, both in looks and capabilities. It was imbued with powerful dark magic and possessed the unique ability to permanently harm or even kill an angel.

So if Heaven had reverse engineered a similar sword, then…

“Oh no.”

Lucifer took a step backward. Michael mirrored his movement and brandished the sword with both hands. They grinned from ear to ear. They looked almost mad.

“No! No, no, no no!”

He didn’t want to die. He never thought it was even possible, but now with the prospect of his imminent, permanent demise, he’d do anything to escape. But there was nowhere to go. He had backed himself into a corner. There was no room to unfurl his wings, let alone get enough lift to escape.

He opened his mouth to plead for his life, but all that came out was a ragged sob.

“You’re pathetic. I once looked up to you, but just look at you now, begging for mercy that won’t come, tears running down your face; it’s just sad. And the best part is they’ll think the corpse is human, we’ve seen to that. A John Doe, or whatever the local equivalent is, found stabbed to death in an alley. It’s only a shame that I couldn’t make it look like a suicide.”

“Can-“ he sobbed, but managed to choke out his words “can I at least die in my true form?”

“No”

The Archangel stabbed.

The Devil screamed.

Lucifer staggered backwards, hitting the wall and slumping against it. Michael braced their foot against his chest and tugged the sword out with both hands.

“I wonder”, mused the angel, “is there life after life after death?” Before turning their back on the demon who had once been their brother, for what they thought would be the last time.

I hate to pull this card but

Pulls out a deck of cards from various sources and draws the tarot card, The Tower.

Oops. Wrong card.

Draws the Cards Against Humanity card reading “A hummingbird drinking nectar out of my urethra”.

I do hate to pull that card too but it wasn’t what I was looking for- ah! Here it is!

Draws a card reading “If this post can get 5000 notes within the next week I will continue writing my terrible, stupid book”.

Preview under the cut.

Prologue

You might have heard the urban legend. It goes like this; someone is walking along a street. They’re always pretty much alone, perhaps with the exception of maybe a pet dog, a conveniently non-verbal companion, when they hear sounds of a pretty intense struggle in an alley. So they go to check it out, but nobody is ever there.

Although sometimes, there’s a little pool of blood or a few feathers.

Mostly this is dismissed as a hallucination, or birds fighting, but the amount of blood and the size of the feathers makes it hard to believe.

And the voices. Most people report hearing arguing. But wherever in the world the story takes place, nobody can understand the language spoken by the fighters. The reports are fairly consistent. The language is described as “mellifluous” and “ethereal”, and there are always multiple people speaking it. Or at least shouting in it, but it is generally agreed upon that they are angry.

But there is always another voice, speaking a different, but still incomprehensible, language. He, for in the stories it’s always a he, sounds defiant and cocky, speaking in a harsher, less musical tongue, unless, of course, you count black metal. Some especially astute listeners have picked up words and sentences used by the lone, defiant individual and the angry group, coming to the conclusion that they seem to be speaking different dialects of the same language.

And another thing; birds don’t generally use weapons. One witness said that they heard what sounded like a fencing match or duel before they turned the corner.

There are so many witnesses that they should probably make a discord server.

Now we come to the theories. We have the rational explanation as mentioned previously; birds.

We have the “Time travelling fight club” theory.

We have the “That one alien spaceship where they keep having to get out because that one alien speaking another dialect keeps picking fights and they always threaten to maroon him on Earth but they never do” theory.

There’s the “Mothman vs other Mothman” theory and the “Crazy global cult who’s leader travels from place to place to perform blood sacrifices” theory, and let’s not forget the “Magical mutant cock-fighting ring gone wrong” theory, but one theory stands above all the rest.

The most well known, and probably the most ridiculous, theory is the “Demon repeatedly getting jumped by angels” theory.

But it’s all just a conspiracy theory. An urban legend. A joke.

Until the day Amelia Butler found the devil bleeding out in an alley.

[dumdumsun]

Of Starlight

A/N: Enjoy ❤️

Warnings: none that I’m aware of

Word Count: 2912

—————————————

Chapter 18: What Would Have Happened

It happened so quickly. One minute, Hazel had shown up to the mansion with the desire to help the family with the prevention of the apocalypse, then next minute, Five was watching Diego and Hazel fight before him for almost a full forty five seconds. Punches and kicks were thrown, blood was drawn, but Five decided to step in when Diego clamped his teeth down on Hazel’s ear. Setting his margarita down on the bar, Five blinked behind his brother with a glass vase before smashing it down on his head, the vigilante collapsing to the ground, unconscious. “I draw the line at biting.” He remarked as he made his way back over to the bar. He glanced over at Hazel, who was groaning and nursing his ear. “Hazel, whatever you came here to say, I suggest you make it quick, before he comes ‘round.”

“I left my partner, quit the Commission, came to volunteer.”

“For what?” Five returned to his seat at the bar, picking up his drink.

“To help stop the apocalypse.” Hazel swiped glass off of his shoulder. The man earned a chuckle from the boy as he sipped on his drink. Hazel frowned. “What on earth could be so funny to you right now?”

“Before I answer that, why do you wanna help us?”

Hazel took a deep breath and straightened his posture. “Let’s just say I have a vested interest in a doughnut shop.” Whatever that meant. Five smiled as he took his straw out of his mouth.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, pal, but you’re a day late and a dollar short. The fact that you’re here right now means, without a shadow of a doubt, the apocalypse is over.”

“Really? How do you know?”

“The mark is dead. Found him this morning,” Five inhaled as he thought over (Y/N)’s words of suspicion. “You were the last known unknown left in the equation.”

Hazel let out an airy chuckle, slightly shaking his head. “Shit… Really?”

“Mmhm,” Five nodded and turned around in his seat. “And if you’re out, then Hellrider ain’t riding.”

Throwing his head back, Hazel inhaled deeply, raising his fists in the air. “Oh! Alright!” He grinned. Letting out a relieved laugh, he stepped away from Diego and joined Five at the bar. Picking up the blender, he gulped down what was left of the margarita, Five chuckling and turning his head forward. When Hazel emptied the blender, he set it back in place, exhaling in content. “So now what?”

“You know, to be honest, I don’t know. I’ve been chasing this thing for so long, I…,” He and Hazel turned to each other. “I never really thought about the day after… I don’t know. What about you?”

“I’m done with all of this madness,” Hazel shook his head. “Time to start over. You should do the same.”

“That’s easier said than done…”

“It doesn’t have to be hard. I mean, think about it like this. If you never time traveled, you never got caught up with The Handler, what would have happened?”

Five glanced over his shoulder, at the unconscious Diego, before turning back to Hazel. “I guess I would have grown up to be an emotionally stunted man-child like everybody else around here,” He nodded, Hazel softly chuckling. “But after that… I guess I would have married the love of my life.”

Hazel raised his brows and leaned back a bit. “Really? I would’ve never guessed a cold-hearted killer would have a soft spot. Especially for a girl.”

“Yeah, well… neither did I. But there’s nothing else I’d rather do right now…”

“Well, there you go. Now you can grow up and get married,” Rising from his seat, Hazel nodded at the boy. “Good luck.” As he began to leave, Five glanced over at Delores. This was the time to make things right. The boy called out to Hazel as he turned toward him.

“One more thing before you go.”

“Shoot.”

“Which one of you was the triggerman for Detective Patch?”

“Triggerwoman.” Hazel blinked. Five sighed through his nose.

“Huh. That’s too bad… That gun could’ve cleared my brother’s name.”

Hazel inhaled as he reached into his pockets. “Well, today’s your lucky day, amigo,” He took out two guns and walked up to Five, setting them down on the bar. “Take ‘em both. I’m done with this life.”

Five gave him a ghost of a smile of gratitude as he watched him leave the parlor. And with that, another weight had been lifted from his child-like shoulders. Turning back to Delores, Five deeply sighed. “Now it’s… Now it’s figuring out what (Y/N) wants…”

“Diego?!” As if on cue, the girl’s voice rang throughout the room. He looked over his shoulder to see her crouching beside their brother, placing a hand on his head, (e/c) eyes full of concern.

“He’s fine.” Five spoke up. Her head snapped up to him.

“He is?”

“I just knocked him out. Did what I had to do.”

“Oh, well, then…” She stood with a shrug, moving to his side. Sitting down in the seat Hazel once occupied, she placed a hand on his back. “How’re you doing, bub?”

The nickname sent a rush of heat to Five’s face and ears. He hoped to god it wasn’t noticeable. “Honestly, I’m a little lost, Starlight… I didn’t have a plan after this.”

“Well, then, what do you wanna do?” She held his free hand in hers, raising it to her lips. “Now that you’ve got loads of freetime.”

“I was hoping you’d help me with that,” He leaned closer, gently touching foreheads with her. “Now that I have no idea what the future holds for us… I just want to have one with you.”

“I’ve cried enough these past eight days, Five,” (Y/N) sniffled with a grin on her face. “Don’t make me do it again.” They both chuckled quietly, hands tightly clasped together. They knew this wasn’t a life or death situation, but they’d been so used to losing each other that every moment of peace felt like nothing but the calm before the horrible, horrible storm. (Y/N) wrapped her arms around her love in a warm hug. Not even hesitating, he returned it, gently rubbing her shoulder. “You mean it? You want a future with me?”

“I mean it with every pubescent bone in my body.”

“Ew…” She laughed, the sound alone tugging at his heart. He then felt the warmth of her lips pressed against the corner of his mouth. He swore his heart exploded right then and there. When she pulled away, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t formulate a single sentence in his mind. It hadn’t even been a real kiss and yet it had rendered him speechless, nonetheless. She smirked in amusement at his current state. “Five, you’re staring.”

“I’m well aware.” He breathed. She giggled and circled around him to leave the room, their eyes never breaking contact as their fingers lingered against each other. When they had finally let go, both their hands twitched, itching for that contact again. (Y/N) placed her fingers against her lips as she turned away and left the parlor to head upstairs. She had planned to go check on her children again. It had felt like months since she’d last seen them. Now that the end of all life on earth had been stopped, she knew she had to make things right and explain everything to them. No matter how crazy she sounded. She owed them that much.

She passed by Allison’s room, but stopped when she saw movement from the small crack in the door. Slowly opening the door wider, she gasped at the sight of Allison, now in different clothing, walking around her room. The woman turned towards the door, a tearful smile stretching across her face. “You’re awake…” The girl teared up as the two ran to each other, engulfing one another in a hug. Allison sniffled and kissed the top of her sister’s head. “Oh, god, you’re okay, Ally, you’re okay…” She repeated, more to herself than to Allison. When they pulled away, they sat themselves on the bed. The Rumor reached over to her notepad and began to write something down. (Y/N) leaned over and rested her elbows on her knees, waiting patiently for her sister with a small smile on her face. The smile faltered when Allison turned the notepad to her.

VANYA KNOWS

“She knows?” (Y/N) frowned. “She knows what?” Her gaze followed Allison’s writing.

WHAT WE DID

“Allison, I’m not understanding.” She shook her head. Allison sighed in frustration and hastily scribbled down her response.

THE RUMOR

“The rumor? Like… when we were little?” She asked, Allison nodding. “Is that why she did this? She found out about… but I don’t understand. What did the…”

“I heard a rumor… you think you’re just ordinary.”

“Number Eight, summon a clone. Tell it to make sure Number Seven does not leave her room. No matter what.”

Her face formed into horrified shock. “So, Vanya has powers,” The nod of confirmation from Allison had the girl running her hands down her face. “Jesus Christ… and we were both in on it…” The two sat in silence. Both in fear. Both in shame. Shameful of the pain they’d caused their sister, of blindly following through with their father’s plans without a single word of protest. (Y/N) turned her attention to the sound of the marker against the paper.

ITS MY FAU-

“No,” (Y/N) held Allison’s wrist, forcing her to halt her writing. “It’s my fault as much as it is yours. We were both there… I take this blame with you. Okay, Ally? You don’t have to make yourself feel like shit all the time,” The scoff she got from Allison made (Y/N) frown. “Allison, tell me one good thing you think you’ve done.” Silence followed. Allison stared down at her knees for what seemed like forever before shaking her head with a shrug.

“Well, I’ve got a list. Let’s see… You promote my work in your interviews… You gave birth to my favorite niece,” The woman silently giggled at that. “You were my maid of honor… You stay so fucking strong despite the shit thrown at you constantly,” She reached over and held her sister’s hand. “You’re learning, Ally. We all are. No one said we had to be perfect… We do shitty things and then we learn from them. Yes, part of the process is feeling like shit, but it isn’t the end. I just want you to know… you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me. If you ever feel like a piece-of-shit-sister… know that I think otherwise. Vanya doesn’t hate you… I’m sure after we properly apologize, she’ll understand, right? She just found out that everything she was ever told was a lie… and the source of it. She’s learning, too. We just need to be patient with her. No one really ever was…”

Allison smiled down at her notepad and scribbled something down before holding it up.

PRETTY SMART FOR A KID

“Piss off, Allison.” (Y/N) laughed.

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

After leaving Allison to her own devices, (Y/N) slipped into her bedroom and swiped her car keys off her bedside table. She whistled a tune and spun the keys on her finger as she walked towards the stairs. Hearing rustling, she halted when she saw Five in his own room. She walked inside and gently knocked on the door. He looked up from the duffle bag he had just unzipped and smiled tightly. “Hey, Starlight.”

“Hey, bub,” She watched him with a raised brow. “What’re you doing?”

“Uh, well… I figured if I’m going to move on and live as much of a normal life as I can… I’ve gotta let go of the past.” He motioned towards Delores, who sat in her usual chair. (Y/N)’s mouth fell open in shock.

“Seriously? Five, you’re returning Delores?”

“It won’t be easy, I admit,” He grunted. “But I… I have to do this.”

“Make things right,” She nodded, Five staring at her in slight confusion. “You could say I’m on my own journey with that…”

“We all might as well be,” He slowly picked up Delores, his green eyes holding so much care and fondness for the mannequin. He hesitated as he so very gently placed her in the duffle bag. Sighing, he turned his head to (Y/N). “Would you like to say any last words to her, (Y/N)?”

“Oh, uh… Sure,” The girl cleared her throat and slowly walked to Five’s side. He stepped back a little to give her space. Her eyes darted around the room. From Five, to his posters, to the window, before finally landing on Delores. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Delores… um, well, we didn’t talk all that much, but… I think if Five likes you so much, you must be pretty great. I, uh… actually wanna thank you… for taking care of him. He went through hell and my worst fear was that he’d do it alone… but you came in and did what I couldn’t. And I’ll be eternally grateful for that. I wish you luck in life, Delores.” Standing up straight, she turned to Five, who nodded in satisfaction.

“Beautifully said. Now,” He walked closer and zipped up the duffle bag. “I’ll only be a little while.”

“Oh, wait,” (Y/N) gently pressed her hand to his chest to stop him. “I can drive you there.”

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

(Y/N)’s car parked in front of the department store Five had directed her to. Very slowly, the boy removed his seatbelt and turned to the backseat, where the duffle bag sat. He let out a breath and slowly reached back for it. “I don’t know, Starlight… If I can…”

“I’m not gonna make you do anything you don’t want, Five… But if you truly want to move on and have… that future… This is kinda necessary. I know you can do this, bub. You have more than just Delores now. You’ve got our siblings, you’ve got me.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. Five hummed and grabbed hold of the duffle bag, dragging it into his lap. His finger gently ran over the fabric as he shut his eyes.

“I know…”

Seeing the somber look in his eyes once they opened, she tilted her head and smiled. “Make sure they get her a new outfit. She’d look beautiful in red.”

Five chuckled and shook his head, opening his door to leave. “I’ll be back.” He whispered.

“And I’ll be right here.” She smiled. He returned the expression before getting out and closing the door, swinging the bag onto his back as he strode inside the store. (Y/N) leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes, a distant vision she’d had years ago resurfacing her memories.

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

The clone stood a few feet away from Five, who sat on the hood of an abandoned car with Delores by his side. The boy sighed and stared up at the star-painted sky. He threw his arm around the mannequin’s “shoulder” and leaned into her. “These stars remind me of (Y/N)... Who is she? Oh, just… a girl…” The clone stalked closer to the car in silence. “What? No, Delores, she’s… Well, she’s dead now. I just called her Starlight because… that’s what she was to me. In an endless sea of darkness, she shone in all her glory. She didn’t make the darkness go away, but she sure made it more bearable to live with… Yeah,” He bitterly chuckled. “Yeah, I was in love with her… But it doesn’t matter. She’s… She’s gone now,” He turned his head to face Delores, his eyes softening. “But at least I have you…”

The clone’s foot came into contact with a nearby scrap of metal, the screeching of it sliding against the ground alerting Five. He jumped up and turned to the clone in anger. “Go away!” He tried waving it off. When it didn’t respond, he hopped off the car and stormed up to it. “I said go away! All you ever do is stand there and look like her! You don’t talk like her or smile like her o-or laugh like her! You just sit there and take up space! Just get the hell away from me!” He shouted, not daring to get any closer, for he knew he’d only get shoved back. The clone only squinted its eyes at Five, the boy sighing in exasperation and stomping back to the car. It watched as he sat atop the hood, burying his face into his hands.

“What the hell am I gonna do with it, Delores…?”

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

The girl snapped her eyes open when she heard the car door opening. Turning to her right, she was greeted with the sight of Five. Alone. As he climbed into his seat and shut the door, she grinned brightly at him. She reached her hand over and placed it over his. “I’m so proud of you…” She whispered. The boy only nodded, eyes trained on his knees. (Y/N) tilted her head and hummed in a soothing manner. She considered her next decision for about a solid two minutes before starting the car up again.

“Do you want to meet Michael and Jada?”

—————————————

Taglist: @unfortu-nate-ly @43sparrows @sapphicsyn @m00n-sh @starcurrent @alexander-hamilhoe @youcandalekmyballs @wonderlandfandomkingdom @yrdadjstcallsmekatya @narikyuwu @sm0kingcrack @a-t-h-r-e-e-n-a @moatsnow @bubblegumflamingos @call-me-starstorm @rev-enviadhell @meowiemari @magicalgothpandamaker @simping-4-fictional-men @hehehehannahthings @harrystylescherrie @rhain3 @himikaphoo @zero2461 @xxeiraxx

[outofsstyles]

WILDEST DREAMS

a/n: soo I’ve been working on this for a little while now and I’m very excited to share it with you al!! This piece is inspired by Taylor Swift’s music video for her song Wildest Dreams. If you’ve never seen the video, or don’t remember it really well, I recommend you watch it *after* reading the story so you don’t get it spoiled! If you’re interested then you can watch it by clicking *right here!!*

Word count:  17.2k                     Rated: M, mature           

You agree to help your friend on her film project and Harry is playing your love interest.

“You’ve been frowning a lot and haven’t said a single word in the past five minutes, what’s wrong?” You looked up to your quiet roommate sitting opposite to where you stood near the kitchen counter. 

A playlist you both had made months ago, meant only for cooking days, as Nia had instructed, played faintly in the background. You hummed along to the melody of a song you didn’t really know the name of, but had listened to it enough to mumble the lyrics, as you focused on cutting banana slices.

Nia was the one who brought up trying out a new fruit smoothie recipe she had found while scrolling around on Pinterest. She was pretty excited after coming home with the groceries, ready to start the process. Which is why seeing her sitting quietly as she glared at her phone was a big sign that something was wrong.

“I think Jordan is about to pull out on us,” she groaned loudly, locking her phone and throwing it on the counter, running her hands on her face, “I can’t believe this is happening a week before filming starts.”

“Oh, that’s not good news” you said, looking back at your friend’s defeated state in front of you as you threw the banana slices into the blender. “What happened?”

“He said he decided to go with his cousin to Ibiza.” Her arms muffled her voice as she lied on top of them, sighing once again, “this is the third one that leaves, I might as well just cancel the entire thing and fail this class.”

You rolled your eyes lightly at her, shaking your head as you listened to her dramatic reactions. Being her friend for as long as you have, you knew how stressed Nia got with a project, specially something she was passionate about. She was always too hard on herself, trying to push everything to be as perfect as possible, which is a good thing when you focused on the ultimate results. But she often tended to over-stress herself, and that’s what makes you worry.

With this one in particular, you could tell how excited she was from the day her teacher assigned it. She came back home and rambled for hours on end about making her first film. Which is why when she begged you to be part of it, and you couldn’t find it in your heart to say no. 

It was a small production after all, it just being Nia and her partner Evan, whom you have known had gotten close to her in the past months. She assured it would a rather simple concept, with only two characters. The trickiest part being the fact that they would film it out of town, in a camp house that belonged to Nia’s aunt. You had agreed to it to make her happy, and with her promise of buying you chocolate muffins. Most uni students, however, didn’t seem as keen to sacrifice a week of their spring break as you were.

“You’re being dramatic Nia,” you reassured, turning on the blender and cringing at the loud noise that took over the place. “Maybe they just read on the script that they would have to kiss me a couple of times and got too nervous about it,” you tried to humor, raising your voice a bit before turning the processor off. Nia looked back at you with a serious expression, making you scoff, “calm down, grumpy pants, I’m sure Evan knows someone who can do the role, stop worrying.”

“All I do is worry, you know that,” she sighed, standing up to walk towards the cabinets behind you. She selected two matching cups that she had gotten for your birthday, one had Elsa printed on it, and the other Anna. You smiled as she placed them on the counter, knowing you always thought matching friendship objects were silly, but Nia loved it, so you loved it too. She looked vaguely at the blender, letting her shoulder weight down.   “At least we have a banana smoothie.”

“And something else!” You said, jumping on your feet to get to the fridge and retrieved a tupperware. You held it in her direction and smiled, “leftover spaghetti from Joe’s!” you exclaimed, attempting to brighten her mood. She looked back at you, grabbing the container from your hands, as she tried to fight back a smile.

“Yes,  how could I forget the leftover spaghetti?”

**

As the days passed by, the both of you had gotten more stressed out. Nia was still worried about everything related to her film project. With the days passing by and no one to fill the other role on the script, she found herself on a daily cycle of stress breakdowns. 

Just two days after your former cast partner dropped out on the project to spend his week on the busy beaches of Ibiza, she had bought three different boxes of hair dyes. And as you helped her turn her hair into a light shade of pink, she cried about how everything seemed to go wrong in her life.

Meanwhile, you had been struggling to fight your procrastination tendencies and try to finish as much work as possible before spring break. A task that was showing itself to be extremely difficult, considering your mind seemed more focused on binge watching true crime shows on YouTube. 

The blank document stared back at you from your computer screen, as you wished that if you looked at it for long enough, the essay would somehow write itself. Writing a couple of words but soon deleting them and going back to an empty page, you signed. Why was it so difficult to introduce a topic? You took a sip of the hot drink on the sparkly Cinderella mug you had chosen for the day, another one of Nia’s Disney-related possessions. 

You frowned at the blank document, your failure to write a single paragraph still open in front of you. You heard a light knock on your bedroom door, but before you could even say anything, you spotted the already fading pink hair coming into the room. 

Nia walked in jumping excitedly, saying your name in little squeals and almost tripping down as she made her way to sit on your bed in front of you. Breathing out, she looked at you with a big smile and messy hair before blurting out.

“We’ve got you a husband!” you stared back at her, arching your eyebrows. You knew she was referring to the role on the film, but you still laughed off at her choice of phrasing. “Evan got someone, it’s like his old friend or something, said he trusts him not to drop out.”

“Well, fourth time’s a charm, I guess?” you smiled at her. 

“We’re planning a pizza night this Friday, so we can, you know, set the details and all that.” She properly lied down next to you, playing with the strings on the hem of your pajama shorts. “Also so you two can meet each other, of course, you’re going to be married for a week after all.”

“The way you say it seems like we’re actually doing it,”  You laughed, finally closing your computer, and moving down to face her. “We’re just playing characters, Nia.”

“I know, I know… You’re really no fun, aren’t you?” She moved her arm up to support her head and poked you with her free hand as you rolled your eyes at her. “Also, he seems pretty cute, Evan showed me his picture, maybe you two can hit off.”

“I’m sure he is,” you tried not to fall for her attempt on teasing you over someone you don’t even know. Sure, you’ll be playing love interests, but you’ve done this plenty of times before, back on your theatre days. Kissing someone on stage doesn’t mean you have feelings for them in real life, and you knew that pretty well. You sighed, looking down at her, not wanting to engage into this kind of topic.

“Anyway, should we celebrate your new cast member and my inability to write a single sentence about art history?” you changed the subject, trying to distract yourself from your own thoughts. “We could watch Devil Wears Prada and make caramel popcorn.”

Nia gasped dramatically, “these are the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard coming from those pretty lips of yours,”  jumping to her feet as she pulled you to stand with her. She then ran out of the room, screaming back, “I’ll get the blankets and you start with the popcorn!”

It’s been years since you’ve known Nia, but yet the dynamic between the two of you has never really changed. You’ve always considered yourself very lucky for having a friend like her in your life. From the day you met her in your English class, it was like seeing someone you had already known your entire life; it was always that easy to be with her. 

You two became inseparable from day one.

Looking back, it’s crazy for you to realize how well your high school plans with each other had turned out. Most people you know had those friends in school they only really talked to because they saw them five times a week. But as soon as graduation came by they parted their ways and became only good nostalgic memories for one another. With the two of you, everything just worked out. 

You both got into the university you wanted, ready to get matching art degrees. On your second year of college, you moved in together. And halfway through the course, Nia just dropped out to enroll on an eighteen months film school. And that’s when she met Nate. 

You always knew she was destined to be that kind of person who just has one great love in her life. Which was funny considering that anyone who spent over five minutes with her and Nate in the same room could swear they would never work together. They just were those kinds of couples who are the polar opposite of each other. 

Nia was a little social butterfly, who could start a conversation with anyone about anything. She could talk for hours with the old ladies at the grocery store about how the new brands of beans are just not as good as the ones not as well known. Or chat with the yoga moms about a new reality show that had premiered on Netflix. She loved experimenting on new things, trying out new recipes or mix distinct colors together on her clothes.

Nate, on the other hand, just wasn’t much of a talker at all. Since the start of their relationship, he often stops by at your apartment -wearing a different shade of grey every time - but it would be a lot to say that you two have had a conversation for longer than five minutes. He just mostly kept it to himself. 

They balanced each other, which is why they worked so well.

It would be a lie for you to say you didn’t think about having something like that for you. You thought maybe you just weren’t the kind of person to have one meaningful relationship in your life. And that was okay. You’d like to think you’re better off on your own, anyway. But now and then you wondered how it would be to fall asleep in someone’s arms every day.

But you tried your best to keep those thoughts locked away in the back of your head. You knew that for the most part love is not really meant to last, Nia was just part of the lucky few.

**

The atmosphere in your shared apartment was cozy, as you waited for Evan and his friend to arrive before you started the pizza hangout, as Nia called it. 

You both had spent the day tidying up the place, trying to decorate it a bit with some fairy lights and nice pillows you found in your room. It had been a long time since you had done any kind of social gathering in your home, and Nia wanted everything to be perfect. She even insisted on making the pizzas herself, which took most part of the afternoon, and a lot of bossing around on her part. 

By the time the food was in the oven and the only thing left to do was wait, her boyfriend joined the two of you. 

She was very talkative and bubbly, as she usually is, getting the wine bottles she selected for the evening and placing them on the counter as she chatted with him. It was nice seeing her back do being her usual self after such a stressful week. 

You got the right amount of glasses, placing them next to the bottles, as you hummed along to the Declan Mckenna’s voice playing in the background. You weren’t really paying attention to Nia’s babbles, catching a word or two as she rambled about some dolphin documentary she had to watch for one of her classes. Pouring out a glass for yourself, you looked over to Nate who had a puzzled look on his face, as he tried to make sense of whatever rant his girlfriend had going on. You took a sip of your wine, and laughed lightly at yourself at the contrast between the two of them, something you had always found very amusing to observe. But before you could go further into your thoughts, the sound of the buzzer took over the small apartment.

“They’re here!” Nia gushed, as she quickly made her way out of the kitchen to get the front door, yelling back at you to get the pizzas out of the oven.

“Yes, ma’am,” you teased after she left, earning a light chuckle from Nate. 

Making your way around the kitchen, you took out kitchen gloves that had figures of little chicks printed on them, giving one last check inside the oven to make sure everything was ready, before opening it and taking out the food. You could hear Nia greeting Evan excitedly in the background, as she rushed him and his friend to come inside. As their voices got closer, you turned your back to the entrance, concentrating on not burning yourself while you placed both pizzas on top of the counter.

“There’s our star!” You heard Evan’s loud voice taking over the kitchen space, making you look over your shoulder and laugh at him. 

You turned around while taking off the gloves, as he pulled you into a tight hug, the strong scent of his cologne invading your nostrils. He wasn’t much taller than you, making him being considered short for a man. But his presence in a room was always so loud and bright that he seem much bigger than he actually is. You pulled back and looked at him, suddenly feeling underdressed in your own home. His entire outfit was bright red, being consisted of a jean jacket and silk pants, his eyes matching with vibrant eyeshadow taking over his whole eyelids.

“It’s very nice to see you again Evan,”  you smiled at him, his hands still holding onto your shoulders as he looked warmly at you. “It’s been too long! You look fabulous!”

“Oh honey, you flatter me too much! It’s why I love coming here,” he scoffed playfully, coming to your side and wrapping one arm over your shoulder as he guided you. “But tonight is not about me, unfortunately. It’s about the two of you.”

As you finally moved your attention to the kitchen entrance, you realized another presence standing there. A man, who you assumed was Evan’s friend, already smirking down at you as both of you approached him. 

You suddenly felt nervous under his stare while you could hear Evan commenting on something you didn’t really pay attention to. You had been taken completely by surprise by the man standing in front of you. Sure, Nia had mentioned to you once or twice that he was good looking, but you were not expecting this. 

It was a weird feeling, being this affected by someone you had just met, but you would have to be blind not to notice. His face was beautiful, a sharp jawline contrasting his soft skin, his fingers poked at his bottom lip as he smirked, you could notice the hint of a dimple forming on his cheek. His hair was short, but still long enough to see the shape of slight curls forming in it, some locks falling charmingly against his forehead. But what hit you the most were his eyes, thanks to the dim lighting you couldn’t really tell if they were a shade of forest green or more of a hazel tone, but you could feel your cheeks warming up from the way he watched you as you got closer.

His shoulders were broad, as he was leaning against the entrance, the hand that wasn’t poking at his lip resting inside the pocket of his brown pair of trousers. He wore a blank white shirt, partly tucked in, underneath a beige cardigan. The sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, making you notice the tattoos hugging the skin of his arms. You felt a curious wish to know how many more you could find under all the layers of clothing..

As you and Evan got closer, he moved from his leaning position to stand tall in front of you. The smile never leaving his lips, and his eyes still watching you closely.

“So, darling, meet Harry,” Evan spoke up, gesturing you towards his friend. “He’s a pest, but I’m sure you’ll get along just fine”

“Way to give a first impression, E,” Harry rolled his eyes at his friend’s teasing, before turning his attention back to you. He moved closer, embracing you into a side hug “S lovely to meet you-”

You quickly cleared your throat, afraid that your voice would give you away, before saying your name. The attempt didn’t really seem to work, as your words came out higher than you had intended. You could feel Nia’s gaze turning to you on the corner of your eye, but tried your best to ignore it. He repeated it, before shooting a smile in your direction, the sound of his deep voice and the way his lips circled around the words making the hairs behind your neck rise.

“Okay! So how about we move this party to the living room?” Nia’s voice broke into the atmosphere. “Everyone can get their wine glasses and make themselves comfortable while y/n and I finish arranging the pizzas.”

She shot you a knowing look, before moving to get the wine bottles and handing them to Nate. Everyone shifted to get their glasses and settle in the other room, leaving you and Nia alone. 

You moved to get the knives and looked at the pizzas standing on the counter in front of you, calculating how you could cut out even slices on each. You could see your friend from the corner of your eye leaning on the counter staring directly at you.

“You know you can’t fool me even for a second, miss,” she teased, you could hear the smirk on her voice.

“I’m not doing anything,” you murmured, still not looking in her direction. She scoffed, elbowing you lightly as she mimicked you, saying your name in a high-pitched voice. You shot her a dirty look before shushing her, afraid the guest in the other room could hear her teasing. “I didn’t sound like that!”

“Oh please! You should have seen how you looked at him!” She rolled her eyes at you, “thought you were gonna drop down on your knees right then and there!”

“Nia!” you screamed in a whisper, your cheeks warming up at her words as you pinched her, making her squeal. You quickly shot a look at the entrance to see if anyone might’ve heard her, but they seemed to be enrolled in their own conversation. “Let’s just get this done quickly before they suspect we’re in here for too long.”

“Okay, cheeky girl,” she bit her lip and moved to get a knife to cut one pizza, but still eyeing you with a slight smile, leaning in one last time, “but I told you he was cute.”

Eventually, the two of you finished sorting out the pizza slices and joined everyone in the living room. Nia then rushed to join her boyfriend on the loveseat, leaving the only spot available for you being between Harry and Evan on the couch. She shot you a teasing smile, but you tried your best to ignore it and focus on finishing the wine glass you had poured for yourself earlier.

“Okay, so I’m going to need everyone to eat the food and tell me how good it is,” Nia pointed out to the center table where the  pieces of pizza laid upon, “I’ve spent the entire afternoon on these babies, so eat up!”

“You know that I’ve helped you with them, right?” you added, squinting your eyes at her, “some credit wouldn’t hurt.”

“You only laid the toppings on the dough so they would look even,” she snapped back pointing a finger at you, “I did all the hard work, so shush it.”

But before anyone could move to get a slice, Evan was already stretching out his arms to stop you from moving. “Wait a second,” he spoke, “I feel like I’ve watched enough seasons of MasterChef to be the first one to judge.”

“I mean, you are the best critic I know,” Nia pointed, leaning in to get a slice and offering to Evan, “but again, I don’t really know any other critics.” She humored as he took the food, making a show of analyzing it.

Everyone waited expectantly as Evan bit into the pizza slice, keeping a straight face that didn’t reveal much of his opinions. Nia leaned in his direction, nervously biting her bottom lip as she waited for his final verdict.

“You have to be honest,” she warned, observing him, “but know that I can get my feelings hurt pretty easily.”

“I don’t mind that,” Evan finally said, straightening his posture as he looked back to Nia’s waiting eyes, “I’ll say that it’s not the best pizza I’ve ever had,” he announced, “but it works.”

“You know what, I take it,” everyone laughed lightly as Nia visibly released a breath she had been holding in, “It’s not a bad review for a first time.”

The hours went by quickly as you eased into a conversation with everyone. It was nights like this you missed the most when the stress of all the accumulative work weighted on your shoulders. Having a more of a cool night to hangout with a few friends, drinking some wine and chatting about whatever topic came to mind.

As time passed, you could tell Nia and Evan got more agitated, probably due to the amount of wine they had consumed without even realizing. They chatted excitingly about Midsommar, their voices raising a bit too loud. But every time you tried to shush them, jokingly reminding of the neighbors next door, they would soon forget about it again.  You watched them babble, giggling when they would get excited on a certain topic and start to trip over a few words. 

You also felt lighter because of the alcohol, not as much as them, but still enough so you could feel your chest warmer and your mind a bit dizzy. You still felt an annoying tingle at the pit of your stomach when you felt Harry’s eyes fixating on you when you spoke, or when your hands brushed as you reached for the bottle at the center table. It was silly, and it made you feel like a teenager being in the presence of an attractive boy for the first time.

When it all quiet down eventually, Nia had dragged Evan to her room so he could give an insight on how she could decorate it. It was something she would do now and then, give her room a big renovation so the change in the space could make her more motivated, or something like that. Sometimes, if she felt inspired enough, she would change around the living area or  even your own room - when you allowed her, of course. 

Nate was still sitting on the loveseat looking like he was about to fall asleep at any moment as he scrolled through his phone. He hadn’t spoken a lot during the night, which wasn’t unusual for him, but he still managed to chat for a bit. 

That left you and Harry alone sitting on the main couch, with one person less it left you enough space to cross your legs, making yourself more comfortable. He was sitting on his side, his back resting on the big pillows by the arm of the couch, his chest turned towards you.

You reached for the wine bottle at the center table, realizing there was just a bit left, enough for a last glass for the two of you. “Wanna help me finish it?”  You turned to him with the bottle in your hand. He had a smile resting on his lips, as he raised his glass toward you so you could pour the liquid into it. You could tell his eyes were a bit cloudy, but you knew none of you had had enough to be drunk.

“Thank you, love,” he said, the raspiness on his voice as he spoke the pet name making the hairs in the back of your neck rise. You poured yourself the rest of the wine left, emptying the bottle as you settled it back where you got it. “Should we make a toast?” 

“Sure,” you replied easily, smiling at him, “what should we toast for?”

He looked away, puckering his lips slightly as he made a puzzled expression, a hand scratching at his chin as if in deep thought. You giggled at his dramatics before he pointed his finger up, his face turning into a big smile. He raised his glass in your direction, as you did the same. “A toast for being husband and wife?”

You chuckled, clinking your glasses together, “that’s fair,” you said, “ ‘s why we’re here after all, isn’t it?” you joked, taking a sip of your drink before settling it down on your lap.

“Sure is,” he mimicked, rising his glass to his lips, a smirk still adorning them as he managed to not break eye contact. He took a small sip before settling his glass back on the table.  He scratched the tip of his nose slightly with the side of his finger, before he relaxed back on the couch. “So” he spoke up, bringing your attention to him, “E told me you’re an actual actress,” he raised his eyebrows at you, “made me a bit nervous, love.”

“That right there is a lie,” you chuckled, biting your lip and shaking your head. “I used to do theatre back in the day, haven’t done any acting for years though.”

“A theatre kid, huh?” He laughed as you rolled your eyes jokingly.

“I’m aware we have a poor reputation, yes,” you said,  “I reckon we deserve it, but we weren’t that bad, I promise.”

He giggled, making your heart skip a beat at the sound. His smile was something you could easily get used to, the way it formed crinkles in his eyes and the dimples deep on his cheeks. You had to stop yourself for staring too much, moving your gaze to the glass on your lap.

“People are too harsh on theatre kids,” he reassured, “I think it seems pretty fun — only time I did it was when I played Elvis when I was about five, I think.” He added, resting his arm against the couch, his hand just a few inches away from your shoulders. “Had the time o’my life though.”

“You got main character though, that’s impressive,” you expressed, raising a hand to poke at his side playfully. “Have you done anything since your big debut as the king?”

“Can’t say I have, no,” he chuckled, “guess this is my big comeback, maybe I’ll get a call from broadway soon.”

“I’m sure you will!” You giggled, taking another sip from the glass in your hand.

You found it easy to dive into a conversation with him. You were both giggly from the wine, but it still seemed like you could stay like this for hours on end,  just talking to each other. 

He told you he wasn’t planning on doing the film, considering he never really thought about acting. But when Evan asked him if he could be part of it, he saw how desperate he was to fill the role, so he agreed. It warmed your heart to hear how fondly he spoke about his friend, telling you how willing he was to help, even if it involved doing something out of his comfort zone.

You two bounded over your mutual wish to become teachers. You found out he was studying Literature, a choice that for him as an easy one, considering throughout his life he had always been an avid reader. He said no matter how harsh thing got, he always found an escape between books, you could tell how passionate he was about it as he spoke about his favorite reads.

Eventually, you could hear voices coming closer from Nia’s room, as they seemed to be gushing about the filming that was starting soon. 

As Evan came into the room, he made his way to the couch, placing his hand on Harry’s shoulders. “Honey, as much as I wish we could stay here ‘til dawn, I’m afraid we must get going.”

With his declaration, everyone moved around to gather the dishes splattered across the center table to put it all at the kitchen counter. After some insisting -mostly on Harry’s part- on helping with cleaning, you convinced them you two could handle the task just fine. And they were the guests, after all.

Finally, you said your goodbyes, pulling Evan on a small hug, assuring him you’d do your best to do his script justice.

And as you came to face Harry, he leaned into a hug, giving you a last kiss on the cheek, before telling you how lovely it had been to meet you.

**

You had woken up with your door opening abruptly, making you jump a bit from the sudden change in the peaceful atmosphere from your deep slumber. Before you could process the situation in hand, Nia was already pulling out the covers and spitting out words at a faster pace than you could comprehend in your mind state.

“Get up already! We are very late,” She urged as you lazily scratched at your eyes before sitting up to look at her. “Evan is going to kill us!” She cried out.

Your head pounded slightly, making you search for your water bottle previously prompted by yourself the night before, knowing you would need it in the morning. You reached for it in your nightstand, taking big gulps as you watched amusingly Nia run around your room picking random clothes and throwing it in a duffel bag you had just noticed.

Resting the bottle down on your lap, you yawned lightly, still in the process of waking up. “Calm down Ni,” you mumbled, “We still have time, we’re only leaving at like, two.”

She looked back at you as if you had just slapped her across the face, your shirt falling partly from her hand. “It’s already one,” she informed, making your eyes bulge as you reached to check on your phone, confirming as it read 1:16pm. “We don’t even have our bags packed AND we got a sink full of dishes to wash.”

The minutes after that were rushed, as you two did your best to get ready as fast as possible. Mentally slapping yourself for leaving everything for the last minute, but still managing to pack your bag in record speed.

But as time passed and the list of things to do was still far from over, Nia phoned Evan and let him know you would need a few more hours to be ready to leave. To say he wasn’t the happiest about the news was an understanding, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

A couple hours later you were finally packed, and after a quick stop to shop for road trip snacks you were off on the road. 

You left much later than planned, and even if it wasn’t that much of a long drive, it was still 3 hours until you got there. The ride itself was mostly quiet, except from Lorde’s Melodrama playing softly in the background. You hummed along to the words, but apart from that there wasn’t a lot of talking between the two of you, all due to the limited amount of sleep you got from the previous night.

As you got closer, the scenery of open grass camps and blooming flowers at the peak of spring was a peaceful change of scene from the busy city streets you were used to. And when you finally got to the house, the sun was almost setting on the horizon. The sky being a satisfying mixture of blue and orange. There was a car already parked in, and as you got closer, you could see two figures sitting on the front stairs. 

Getting out of the car, you quickly made your way to where they stood. “Have you been waiting long?” Nia asked as you got closer to them. 

“Longer than I was planning to, I’ll say that,” Evan replied, taking off his sunglasses to greet you.

Harry came up from behind him, looking incredibly cozy wearing a knitted cream sweater. It took everything in you not to nuzzle on him as he met you with a quick embrace. You had to focus on keeping your breathing steady as you looked up at him when you parted. The sun coming from behind you doing wonders as it hit his face perfectly. His eyes were the prettiest shade of green as he smiled down at you before moving to greet  Nia.

“We’ve been here fo’ ten minutes, don’t listen to him,” he assured with a small laugh.

The house itself was much bigger than you expected, it wasn’t huge, by any means, but you had pictured a small cottage with barely any space for the four of you. The place, however, was big enough for you to have your privacy but still small enough to feel cozy and welcoming. 

You quickly found there were three rooms, and despite you arguing you didn’t mind sharing one with Nia, considering you two lived together, she still insisted that you and Harry had your own bedrooms. It was her way of thanking you for agreeing to help them.

After you got established in your respective room, you met everyone down at the kitchen. The place was loud with chatter as they played around while making dinner. Nia seemed to boss the boys around to cut the vegetables properly, as she concentrated on figuring out how to work the old stove. They laughed lightly as she cussed under her breath in frustration after another failed attempt. You watched quietly for a moment, before joining in to help her.

You finally turned the stove on with the help of a few matches you found laying on the counter, being able to cook with no more trouble. It was already getting late when you finished eating and gathered the dishes to lay them on the sink. Still, Nia insisted on watching one of the movies she had carefully selected on her extended collections of DvDs to bring with her. 

You decided to make yourself some tea while the rest of them moved around to arrange themselves for the movie night. After offering if anyone else wanted a cup as well, you were met with Harry’s warm smile as he accepted shyly.

Soon enough everyone settled down on the big couch to watch the movie. Evan took his place on one of the armchairs, while Harry opted to sit by the end of the couch, setting his legs on the footrest in front of him. As you walked in with your mugs, he gazed up at you, shooting a soft smile and muttering a quick ‘thank you’ as you handed him his drink.

He patted the spot next to him, indicating for you to sit, to which you happily obliged. 

“Wanna share?” he asked, holding up a blanket that lied at the arm of the couch. “There’s jus’ three of ‘em.”

“Sure,” you replied, moving to pull the blanket, so it was covering the two of you. You knew very well you could always get an extra one from one of the bedrooms, but you would never bring yourself to suggest it.

Finally, Nia entered the room with a small pack of m&m’s on one of her hands and the DvD case for ‘Love Actually’ on the other. She was quick to insert it on the player before settling down next to you. Pulling out the leftover blanket for herself, she lied down to rest her head comfortably on top of your legs.

It didn’t take long until she fell in deep slumber, cuddling up on your lap as soft snores left her lips. You pouted slightly down at her. The poor thing was exhausted from driving all the way, and the bad night of sleep the day before.

As the movie progressed, you could feel your eyelids getting heavier as well, the words coming from Keira Knightley’s mouth becoming more of a background noise as you fought to keep yourself awake. But before you could doze off, you felt Harry shifting slightly next to you. Suddenly feeling his arm hugging your shoulders, as he gently pulled you closer.

You moved your head to look at him but before you could say anything he shushed you softly and pulled you back in. “ ‘S fine, love,” he whispered, “can see that you’re tired.”

And with a half-woken mind and heavy eyelids you laid back on his shoulder and allowed yourself to snooze.

You woke up with him shifting again from under you, opening your eyes slowly to find the end credits rolling up the screen in front of you. You yawned lightly before sitting up, being careful not to wake a still-very-much-asleep Nia on your lap.

“Sorry,” you heard Harry say as you scratched at your eyes, “didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s fine,” you assured, your voice a bit raspy from your nap, “would have to happen, eventually.” You looked down at the unconscious girl lying on you, knowing you had to get her to bed so she could sleep properly. “We should wake her.”

“Want me to carry her to her room?” he asked.

“I think she’ll be okay,” you replied, gently calling her name so she could slowly wake up.

Surely, it didn’t take a lot of coaxing to get her eyelid to flutter open, as she lazily rose from her sleep.

You helped her to her room, afraid she’d trip down the stair in her hazy state of mind, still half asleep as she dragged her feet across the floor. 

As soon as she laid down in her bed, you made your way back to the kitchen to fix yourself a glass of water so you could go to sleep. 

It surprised you to find Harry still awake as you entered the space; he looked up at you from his position leaning on the counter with his phone in his hand. Quickly placing it in his back pocket as he saw you coming in, giving you a slight smile. “Thought you’d gone to bed.”

You reached for the cabinet Nia had pointed you to earlier where the cups were placed, picking one with little thought and closing it. “Just came here for a glass of water,” you spoke, moving the cup under the tap, “always have one next to my bed, y’know, in case I get thirsty and stuff.” You shook your head slightly, not wanting to ramble about the benefits of staying hydrated during the night just to make a conversation.

“Smart girl,” he joked, causing you to chuckle as you felt blush creeping out on your cheeks. You could see him coming closer to stand next to you from the corner of your eye, which didn’t help the tingly feeling forming at the pit of your stomach. “Excited fo’ tomorrow?” he asked, crossing his arms on top of the counter as he leaned next to you.

“Guess I am,” you answered, looking up at him and finding he was closer than you had realized. You smiled nervously as you met his eyes gazing down at you, before clearing your throat lightly. “What about you?”

“To be honest ‘m a bit nervous, love,” he confessed.

“Why’s that?” 

“I mean,” he started, his eyes still fixed on you, “ ‘s not every day I get to pretend ‘m married to a pretty girl like you.”

You could feel your heart skip a beat as he reached one of his hands to move a strand of your hair behind your ear. He kept his hand on your cheek just as his eyes seemed to gaze down at your lips, so subtly that it felt like you might’ve imagined it. 

The silence in the room was loud as you could almost hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears, as he leaned down just barely, getting closer to you. He looked down one more time at your lips, this time making sure you realized the unspoken question behind that action. You suddenly felt water pouring through your fingers, as the forgotten cup in your hand overflowed. This caused you to jump back a bit, quickly turning the tap off and resting the glass on the counter. 

“Oh my god,” you squeak, reaching out for a towel right next to the sink to dry your hand. “I’m sorry, that was-” you chuckled, glancing at Harry who seemed to watch you with an amused expression. “That was awkward, sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” He assured, picking the full glass and moving it in the counter so it was out of your reach. “ ‘t was actually quite cute,” he moved closer to you again, reaching his hand to hold at your jawline. 

You held back your breath as you felt his own hitting the top of your upper lip, your noses brushing slightly. 

“Been wanting to do this fo’ a bit now, love,” he spoke a bit above a whisper, his deep voice sending chills down your spine and making you grab at his sweater, ”would you let me?” his thumb caressed your cheek lovingly, “would you let me kiss you?”

You could feel your heart beating strongly against your rib cages, swallowing hard as you looked up at him. He was watching you closely, his dark emerald irises gazing down at you as your lips barely brushed. You nodded at him, trying to pull him closer.

“Use your words, darling,” he insisted, not budging from his position. “Wanna hear you say it.”

“Please, Harry I-” you moved your hand to grasp on his waist, “just —kiss me.”

Giving a satisfied hum, he finally leaned down, closing the space between the two of you. His hand remained stroking your cheek softly, as the other sneaked under your neck.

He moved his lips ever so slightly, his cupid bow founding its way above your inner lip, sucking on it gently. The kiss was teasingly slow, making you hyper aware of all of your senses. Your hands feeling the soft fabric of his sweater, grabbing at it as if asking for more. 

He moved the hand on your neck, pulling gently at your hair, making you angle your head up a bit. As his tongue poked to lick at your bottom lip, you opened your mouth, deepening the kiss.

You stayed like this for a while, pressed against the kitchen wall as you enjoyed the taste of each other. 

When you pulled back, he splattered a few kisses along your cheek, giving one last peck on your mouth before pulling back.

“As much as I don’t want to end this now,” he muttered, moving his hand, so they were both holding your cheeks, “We should get some sleep fo’ tomorrow.” 

“We should,” you agreed.

“We’ll get the chance to do this again,” he said, making you bite down a smile at the innuendo behind his words.

He gave you one last kiss before pulling away completely, reaching for the glass of water you had already forgotten about on the counter and handing it to you. 

You walked back to your rooms without saying a word, but still sharing glances and smiles along the way. And as you got to your respective rooms, you whispered quiet good nights before parting ways and closing the door behind you.

**

The days that followed were rushed, considering the filming had officially started. You two barely had the chance to be alone again, which was disappointing. But still you couldn’t find yourself time to miss the feel of having his soft lips against yours, considering the scenes you had with each other. What you did miss was being able to kiss him without it being written in a piece of paper, or having someone from outside tell you to. You missed the intimacy of feeling his tongue meet your own and having his hands pulling you close as you both craved for more. You missed the shared secret between just the two of you, that was knowing how it felt to have him all to yourself.

It was discomforting, earning for someone you barely even know. Jumping into a feeling you know there’s no way can end well. You both were playing characters. Lovers, yes, but it was all pretend. It didn’t help that he was so good at it. In front of the cameras he would be so loving that you often wondered how much of it was just part of the act. 

It was subtle things that made you think of it, like a glance across the room between takes. Him leaning close to you every time they called you to watch back something you had just recorded. Or when he sucked in your lip during a scene, so softly you could barely notice but still made your heart skip a beat.

But as much as it was nice to pretend that you two had some shared secret, you knew that the most likely scenario was that he was just doing his work and being friendly. So you tried your best to convince yourself that all of it was just your mind playing tricks, this way you could prevent yourself from inevitably getting hurt. That encounter in the kitchen was most likely his way of making things less awkward to when you inevitably would have to do it in front of a camera. That was it, nothing more. 

It seemed to have worked pretty well, you two had the chemistry Evan hoped for when he wrote his script. Nia kept teasing you with every given opportunity. You didn’t tell her about the late night kitchen situation, but you knew she could sense the ‘chemistry’ was not simply because you two were just that good at acting. No one was complaining though, considering everything was going so smoothly they suspected it could be wrapped up even earlier than expected.

Every time they would mention the possibility, you found yourself wishing deep down something would set you back on the schedule. You felt bad for it, and you never voice your inner thoughts, but you knew wrapping up early meant going home early, and you were getting a bit too comfortable getting to act all loved up on camera.

As if some kind of outer force had listened to your wishes, just as you were halfway throughout the week, mother nature seemed to be your biggest ally.

You had just woken up with the annoying tune of your alarm clock, one you had chosen for finding it soothing at first. But you soon found that those sounds are not meant to feel soothing at all, as it woke you from your deep slumber. You were quick to turn it off before rubbing your eyes softly and enjoying the warmth of your bed for a few more minutes. You could hear the gentle sounds of raindrops hitting your window, but barely paid any attention to it as you rose lazily, stretching your arms above your head.

Making your way down the stairs you first noticed Evan standing by the big window in the living room, looking out with a hand resting on his hip and the other one holding a mug. Behind him, in one of the armchairs, sat Harry, also drinking out of a mug as he read a book quietly. But as if he felt your presence as you got to the bottom of the staircase, he looked up, smiling at you as you made your way into the room.

“G’morning,” he spoke, alerting the man by the window of your presence as he turned around to look at you.

“Good morning,” you said back, before realizing the worried expression on Evan’s face, “is everything okay?”

“A disaster just happened, honey, look out the windows!”  he snapped, gesturing behind him where you could see the rain hitting the glass. The sky was dark with clouds, suggesting it was just the beginning of the storm that was to come. You looked back with a puzzled expression, knowing the weather was not the best, but as far as you remembered you had already shot all the scenes you needed outside. Evan rolled his eyes, “our natural light is gone, honey, it’s too dark to shoot!” he barked.

“Hey, no need to yell at her like tha’,” Harry looked back at his friend, attempting to calm him down, “ ‘s fine, we were early on schedule anyway, one day is not gonna delay it.”

He shot a look at Harry, his hand finding its way back on his waist as he let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry, this is just incredibly frustrating.”

You smiled at him to assure it was fine, knowing how much stress he was putting on because of this project. “Doesn’t Nia have one of those light things you were using the other day to make the scene brighter?” You suggested.

Evan sighed, “that’s a reflector, it just— well, reflects the light, we would need the sun for it to work, and seems like she’s not showing her face anytime soon,” he weightened his shoulders down, clearly feeling defeated. “I guess today is our off day — we should use it to pray for sunlight tomorrow, otherwise I’m pulling my hair off.”

When Nia woke up, you could tell she was not happy at all with the news that filming had to be cancelled for the time being. She spent the whole breakfast whining and crying about the poor weather. You tried your best to console her, but knowing your friend you knew her dramatics showed off when she worried about something. She tended to overthink every scenario that could go wrong, which did nothing to help the pressure she put on herself.

The day went on as eventless as it possibly could, the rain outside just seeming to get angrier as time passed by. You did your best to distract Nia from her own head, asking her about the recent documentaries she had watched, knowing she could go on tangents for hours. You talked about crime shows you have started before filming and shared different theories you had on them. You even listened to her deep analysis of trashy reality shows she loved to watch and always tried to drag you to get into it.

You talked and talked with no end, considering there wasn’t much else to do. Nia’s aunt hated computers and refused to install any kind of wifi, leaving you with a shitty connection that barely loaded a five-minute video.

As the evening came by, and the raindrops still hit angrily at the windows, you decided to watch another movie — this time it was Evan’s choice of Freaky Friday. 

You volunteered to grab the blankets from the cabinets on the second floor, while Nia excitedly announced she would make popcorn for everyone.

Quickly moving along the hallway, you made your way in front of the doors and opened them. You could hear footsteps coming up the stairs as you tiptoed to  reach the top shelf where the soft blanket you had used the first night lied on top of. 

“Need help?” You heard a voice approach, looking over your shoulder to find Harry walking towards you with an amused expression on his face. You nodded, chuckling as you quickly stepped out of the way to allow him to take your place. He reached up, easily retrieving the blanket and giving it to you.

“Thank you,” you muttered, looking up at him for a moment.

“No problem, darlin’,” he said, fetching two other blankets  before closing one door with a swing of his hip. You closed the other one with a small giggle. You started to quietly move along towards the staircase when he cleared his throat, causing you to look up at him. He kept his gaze down before speaking softly, “After the movie, think I’ll go back to my room a bit early,”  he looked at you for a moment, “ ‘f you want to join me.”

You stopped walking to look at him arching your eyebrows surprised, not expecting this kind of proposal at this moment. He stopped a step ahead of you, staring back with nervous eyes and shooting you a shy smile. “I’m not saying we have to do anything, I just-” he spluttered, “just wanted to be with you, without the camera and stuff.”

You smiled at him, “of course,” you voiced, “sounds nice.”

Shortly, you found yourself in the same position as the first day. Sharing a blanket with Harry, but this time Nia was wide awake next to you with a bucket of popcorn plopped on her lap. Some people would consider her to be the worst kind of person to watch movies with, considering she would always get too excited and comment on every scene she could. You had gotten so used to it with time, that it felt weird watching a movie without her voice interrupting a scene every five minutes.

It got hard to concentrate on this one in particular, and not because of Nia’s speaking over the lines, but the sudden feeling of Harry’s hand resting on your knee halfway through it. Your legs were crossed on top of the couch, making part of it rest slightly on top of his as he eased his thumb over your skin.

As time passed, he moved his hand up a bit, finding its final place on your inner thigh, causing goosebumps to arise on the back of your neck as he caressed it softly. You caught yourself holding your breath multiple times, something he was also probably aware of, considering the position of his arm on the side of your chest. 

The tension between you two was almost palpable as the end credits rolled up. At that point you had prompted yourself to lean your head on his shoulders. He grasped your skin slightly before removing his hand and motioning his position to get up, making you pull back from him.

“‘m going back to my room now,” he announced as he got up, shooting you a knowing look, “g’night.”

You stayed back for a few minutes so as not to look too suspicious, folding up the blanket you had used and scrolling through your phone for a bit. Not long after you excused yourself, climbing the stairs two steps at a time.

You found him in the hallway, leaning in on the wall right next to his door as he looked down on his phone. As he felt your presence he gazed up, grinning softly before bringing his finger above his lips as to warn you to stay quiet.

The two rushed inside his room, trying to be as quiet as possible, considering your friends downstairs could come up at any second. He closed the door behind him, looking right at you as he leaned back. His room was similar to yours, the difference being a few more clothes lying on top of the small couch standing at the corner. The curtains hanging on the big windows were pushed open, allowing the moonlight from the now-clear sky to illuminate the place. 

Your breath got caught in your throat as you stared back at him, meeting his dark irises. He started stepping closer to you until he could lean his forehead against yours. His hands found their way caressing your jawline, one of them going as far as to pulling lightly on the hair above your neck. You held your breath, gazing up at him as you waited for his next move.

He smiled lazily, brushing his nose against your softly before placing a peck to the corner of your lips. He was teasing you, his hand leaving your hair to find its way down your body, paying special attention to the side of your breast before placing itself holding your waist.

You swallowed dryly, feeling your heart speed up as you pulled him closer, wanting desperately to close the space between the two of you. Too scared that your voice would give out your desperation, you moved one of your hands to the back of his neck and pulled him in. He didn’t think twice before finally closing the space and allowing you to feel his lips against yours.

The kiss started slow, both of you still trying to figure it out how it was to taste each other like this. His lips were soft, moving teasingly as he sucked on your bottom lip. Your hand pulled his hair gently, causing him to whine into mouth, licking at your tongue as he deepened the kiss. The hand on your waist moved up, caressing the side of your breast softly as he tried to pull you in as close as possible.

He started easing you backwards, considering neither of you were willing to break the kiss to watch where you were going. You felt the mattress of his bed hitting the back of your knees. You allowed him to lay you into the bed, parting for a moment so you could move upwards, laying your head on the pillows. Shortly enough he joined you, placing his elbows on both sides of your head, not wasting any time before closing the space between your mouths again.

The two of you stayed like this for a while. Slowly kissing each other, as your arm found its way back behind his neck and one of his hand caressed your cheek. You could get used to this, with him being the only thing you could sense. His taste. His touch. His scent. 

He was all you could think about.

When you finally pulled back, you could see his red, puffy lips even with the limited amount of lighting going into the room. 

He looked into your eyes for a moment, “you look so pretty like this, darling,” he murmured, his voice just above a whisper, sending chills down your spine. “Could eat you up.” 

A small whimper left your mouth, as he dove back in to spread kissed along your cheek and down your throat. You bit hard into your lip and swallowed back a moan as he sucked in a spot right below your jawline. You could feel him grinding his hips down on your tights, making you aware of the growing bulge inside his sweats.

You placed your hand on his shoulders, pushing him gently and disconnecting him from your neck. He pulled back, looking back at you with a puzzled look. You kept pushing him until his shoulders hit the mattress, reverting the previous position you both were in, as you stranded his waist.

Looking down at him, you wanted so badly to discover his body, to make him feel good. So you took the same position he had on you. Placing your lips against his neck and running your tongue against it, sucking in his skin. You kept doing it as your hand smoothed down his body, finding the hem of his shirt and lifting it enough so you could scratch at his love handles. He gave you a small moan, a sound so delicious to hear you that made you want to swallow him whole. 

Both his hands found their place on your waist, pressing you down so you could feel his need between your tights. You quickly pulled your head from his neck, giving him a soft peck on the lips.

“Please, love, just-” he grunted, looking up at you with pleading eyes. “Just do something, please, I-“

His hands gripped tightly on your waist as you rolled your hips against him. Neither of you could contain your moans as you repeated the movement, even fully clothed his bulge rubbed deliciously against the place you needed it the most. 

You leaned down again, this time pushing his shirt up as you made your way down his body, splattering open-mouthed kisses along his warm chest. You paid a special mind to the tattoos you met along the way, sucking spots over the wings of a butterfly inked on his stomach. As you licked along the leaves of the ferns that adorned his love handles, you felt one of his hands tangling in your hair, his hips rising slightly as he whimpered.

“A bit impatient, you are,” you spoke, feeling his belly tighten as you placed a playful bite under his belly button, causing another moan to leave his lips.

“Darlin’, please,” he whined, “Just- fuck, just need you right now.”

You decided not to tease him for too long, considering you needed it just as much as he did. Finally, you moved down once more to place a kiss above the hard on over his pants. He lifted his head, watching your every move as his hand that was placed on your hair pushed some strands away from your forehead. You wrapped your hand around the hem of his sweats, rising your eyebrows at him as you felt he wasn’t wearing any underpants. The thought of having such easy access to him making you press your thighs together, feeling your wetness already damping your underwear 

Slowly, you bit your bottom lip, keeping your gaze focused on him as you moved his sweats down, he raised his hips as to help you out. Once his cock was fully out, you stared back down at it lying proudly against his stomach. You ran your fingers gently along his length, causing him to hold his breath, his abdomen tightening once more. He was definitely bigger than anyone you had ever been with, causing your mouth to water a bit and your thighs to press together once again at the thought of fully having him.

You could feel him peering down at you as you wrapped your hands around the base and applied the smallest amount of pressure. The precum was already escaping from the tip and sliding down the tiniest bit. 

Moving your head forward you looked back at his waiting eyes, spitting on top of the head as you moved your hand up caressing it. This time he gave you an actual moan, throwing his head back at the pillows behind him. 

Looking down at him, you didn’t know where to place your lips first, wanting to bite and lick every part of his body. Finally deciding on sucking a spot on his thigh, right next to where rested an ink of a tiger head.

You kept the movement of your hand, twisting it and applying more pressure eventually as you watched him shift around under you. He raised his hips slightly as he pleaded under his breath for more, his hand firmly on top of your head as the other was thrown above his own.

You moved your thumb to run across his slit, caressing the head with a flick of your wrist as you moved your mouth to place kisses at the base. At this point he became a moaning mess, throwing his arm over his mouth as to muffle the sounds while you licked up his shaft.

“God- fuck- such a good girl,” he moaned on his arm, moving it out of the way so he could look down at you. “Doing so good, you feel so good- shit.”

Smiling at him, you jerked him off a couple of times before resting your hand at the base so you could replace it with your mouth.

You licked around his head, giving it a small kiss before you moved down as far as you could go. He cried out, tightening his grip on your hair and moving his hips up to meet your movements as you sucked on him.

He was desperate to reach his climax, and you were desperate to see him cum undone under your touch. So you started speeding up, your mouth licking at his veins, your hand helping you as you moved it along his dick. He was cursing and moaning over you, pleading for you not to stop. You kept moving your hand as you licked at his head once more before detaching so you could look up at him with pleading eyes.

“Almost there?” you asked, having him nod frantically at you, “will you let me have a taste?”

That seemed to do it for him, as he pushed your head back down, making you attach your lips to his head as you felt him shoot his load inside your mouth. You milked him as he came down from his high, feeling his softness on your lips as you swallowed down.

You sat up and looked down at his hazy eyes while he calmed down with heavy breaths. He adjusted his sweats quickly before moving himself up to pull you in for a frantic kiss. “God, darling, you’re a dream,” he spoke between kisses, his hands gripping at your waist as he positioned you to lie on top of him, moving one of them under your shirt, pulling it up slowly.

You quickly placed your hand on top of his stopping him from going further as you detached from him. He furrowed his brows at you. “I should go back to my room,” you said, “got an early day tomorrow.”

He gave you a puzzled look, “but you still haven’t- “

“it’s okay,” you interrupted, moving to get up from his bed, suddenly feeling nervous under his gaze, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Good night!”

You left his room before he could protest, wanting to slap yourself from running away like this. 

**

The next morning was thankfully much brighter than the one before, with sunlight shining through the windows at the earliest hours. You didn’t get a lot of sleep, tossing and turning around, replaying the previous night in your head. The thought of what could’ve happened if you had stayed imprinted itself in your mind. You started to overthink it. What did he even think of you? After running away like that? 

Your thoughts consumed you as you sat in of the stools in the kitchen by yourself, for the first time being the first to be awake. Your coffee running cold by the minute, as you frowned to yourself, taking a sip every so often.

It didn’t take long until you didn’t find yourself alone anymore, having Evan join you as he happily cheered about the nice weather. You nodded along to him, not really in the mood for talking as you anxiously poked at your nails.

It was when you walked towards the sink to wash your used mug that you saw Harry walking into the kitchen. His hair messy and his eyes sleepy, making you annoyed at how charming he managed to look even after just getting out of bed. 

He greeted you with a raspiness to his voice, his eyes lingering on you a moment too long as he smirked before moving to the cabinets. He stood next to you while you washed the dishes, grabbing himself a bowl while he worked on his breakfast.

Yours arms would brush every so often as you moved while doing your tasks, making you gaze at him. He kept a grin sitting on his face as he casually made a conversation with Evan, his dimple poking out the smallest bit, but still not looking back at you.

As soon as you were finished you left for your bedroom so you could get ready for the day, but not before sparing one last glance at Harry. This time his eyes were already trained on you as he chewed slowly his fruit salad. You felt your cheeks getting a bit warm from the eye contact, making you look down and leave the room with a speeding heart.

The work started early, as you ran around to keep up with the schedule after losing one day of productivity. 

Harry seemed to be in it for teasing you. His touches lingered longer than needed. His kisses were harsher, the need behind them being almost palpable. His gaze on you told you something you couldn’t really tell exactly what it was. Lust? Desire? You weren’t entirely sure, but every time you caught him watching you felt a warmth take over your face.

In one occasion, between takes, as Nia and Evan discussed the best position for the camera considering her broken tripod. You stood awkwardly waiting for their instructions as you played with the hem of your dress. You could feel him staring closely, looking up to find him with the same smirk he gave you in the morning. He looked quickly over your friends who were still trying to figure out the problem before leaning up close to you “Still haven’t let me have a taste, love,” he said quiet enough to that just you could hear, the words sending a chill down your spine and making your core twitch as you glanced back at him.

That same night, after you announced you’d tuck yourself in, just as you changed into your pajama shorts, you heard a soft knock on your door.  You opened up to see his darkened irises staring back at you as he quietly let himself in. And within a few minutes he found his place between your legs, your hand gripping tightly at his curls as you moaned into your pillow.

The  following day wasn’t much different, starting with a tight filming schedule that was coming to a close end. An exchanging of glances across the room and yearning touches with underlying motives behind them. Ending with you lurking into his room at the dark hours of the night, craving-filled touched and muffled moans.

**

The wrap up of the film was welcomed with a bittersweet feeling settling itself in the pit of your stomach. Knowing as much as you were glad everything had gone as smoothly as possible during this week, it was time to leave it all behind. 

You were nervous about how it would be with Harry after you got home. Was this the start of something that could potentially become a warm and beautiful feeling? Or was it just a lust-filled affair that would end as quickly as it had started? It made you anxious to think about it, not wanting to let go of it just yet.

Nia walked into the living room with two champagne bottles that had been brought up for this exact moment. The atmosphere was filled with chatter as everyone celebrated the end of the hard work. 

You were dressed in the fanciest clothes you had brought on your rushed-packed bag, which consisted itself in a black blouse and a loose pair of pants you stole from Nia’s wardrobe a couple weeks prior. But you once again could not compete with Evan’s sense of style, as he seemed right out of a cover with a hot pink turtleneck under a sparkly black dress that hung all the way to his feet.

But you still couldn’t keep your eyes off of him.

You watched as he laughed along at something that had been said, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before fixing on Nia as she offered to serve him the champagne she had just opened. 

He looked so good. 

Like you, he didn’t opt for a very glam look, wearing a simple graphic white tee with a rainbow printed on it, and a simple pair of checked trousers. But as plain as someone could argue it was, he still managed to look incredibly inviting, which made it harder for you not to latch yourself onto him.

You were coming into your sixth or seventh glass when it all died down. Your head was fuzzy, and you felt giggly as you cheered along with everyone about the successful week you had. Nia had already gone back to her room. She didn’t  drink as much considering she would have to drive early in the morning, wanting to leave most of the celebration for the premiere day. 

The glances stolen between you and Harry were getting more frequent, the longing in each other's eyes visible with the effect of the alcohol.

**

He had you pressed up against your bedroom door as he sucked in your bottom lip harshly. His hands gripped at your waist tightly, putting his weight against you.

You wrapped your hand around his neck as the other pulled at his shirt desperately with the need of having him close. You felt overwhelmed by him in the nicest way. Having his hips pressing against your own, making you open your tights slightly as you felt his arousal straining on his trousers.

You whimpered into his mouth at the feeling, suddenly needing him as close as possible. You could tell his desperation matched your own by the way his hand pressed on the side of your body and his mouth moved against you. His groans getting lost in your throat every time you tangled your fingers on his roots, pulling at it.

“You’re gonna kill me like this, baby,” he breathed out, his lips moving against your wanting ones, “so fuckin’beautiful.”

You tried to keep your shaky hands steady as they travelled down his chest, scratching as his tummy lightly under his shirt before you began pulling it up. He detached from you to quickly reach over his shoulders and pull it off completely.  He didn’t waste any time bringing his hand to unbutton your blouse, peppering kisses along your lips as he moved it down your shoulders, only to be met with your bare breasts underneath.

“Fuck me,” he groaned staring down at you, attaching your lips once again as he pulled you from the door as he fiddled with the zipper of your pants. You stumbled on each other's arms across the floor until you were met with the plush feeling of the bedcovers on the back of your thighs. 

You stepped out of your pants as they got loose around your waist and fell damply to the floor, allowing Harry to push you gently into the mattress. He quickly got rid of his own trousers, wasting no time before towering above you, connecting your mouths once again.

It was like no matter how close you were, it still wasn’t good enough to satisfy the craving you had. You still wanted more. Needed more. 

He was fully licking into you, his hands gripping your tights as he rolled his hips to meet yours. You moaned in unison at the feeling of your arousals meeting deliciously as he repeated the movement once more before parting your mouths so he could spread kisses along your neck.

“Harry,” you breathed out his name, dragging your nails along his back as you moved your hips up eagerly.

He moved his head from your neck o hover above yours, licking his lips teasingly as he looked down at you with dark eyes. He moved one of his hands to caress your cheek lovingly, as the other found your breast, his thumb grazing over your nipple. “Can I have a taste, baby?” he leaned his forehead against your, not breaking eye contact, “just a fo’a bit, then you can have me.”

You nodded frantically, brushing your nose against his. He gave you one last peck on the lips before moving down again to lick down at your skin. He pressed open-mouthed kisses at your chest, sucking harshly between your breasts.  His tongue moved along your belly, craving his finger into it playfully like you had done to him, making you squeal above him.

He finally settled down between your thighs, his hand gripping at them to keep it apart before moving teasingly slow to the hem of your underwear. Your breath got caught in your throat as you moved up to lean on your elbows, gazing at him, hyper-aware of his every move. 

He looked up, grinning like a devil, before moving his face down to nose gently at your mound. Pulling away, he pressed his hands on your sides, sliding your underwear off your legs as you helped him, raising your hips slightly.

You whimpered as you felt him kiss along your inner thigh, meeting your middle as licked you once. Your hips raised impatiently, making him smirk at you again before completely diving in.

You got lost in the pleasure as he licked his tongue into you, letting yourself fall back in the cushions behind your head. Your hand moved to grip at his hair tightly as he sucked in your clit, making you yelp and call out his name. His mouth was warm as his saliva mixed with your own wetness every time he licked into you.

Feeling your arousal pooling on your folds, you desperately needed to feel him as close as possible. Wanting every inch of him against you.

You pushed him from you, grabbing at his shoulder so he could move up to face you again. He didn’t protest, spattering quick kisses along the way before pressing his mouth against yours. The taste of champagne still lingering on your tongue mixed with your own taste on his as he licked into your mouth.

“y’taste so good, baby,” he groaned, parting from you as he moved to remove his briefs. The limited amount of light illuminated his face beautifully, making you able to notice the glistening of your juices down his chin. You felt your core twitch at the scene above you, desperate to have him fill you up.

“Please,” you urged him, grabbing at his hips to pull him down.

“Can I have you, darlin’?” His voice was raspy, as he looks down at you with hooded eyes, “‘d you let me?”

Your arousal blurred your mind, your grip on his waist tightened as you raised your hips impatiently, nodding along to his question.

“Have to hear you say it, love,” he spoke, leaning down to place kisses along your neck, “just say it, and you’ll have me.”

“You can have me, please, I-” you moaned desperately, babbling words without thinking, “I need you, please.”

He raised his head from your shoulders, giving you a quick peck before reaching down to guide his length between your folds. Your belly tensed as he rubbed his head against your clit, holding back your breath as he finally slid in you.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he choked, pushing his hips all the way, allowing you to feel every inch of him fill you up. You breathed out a moan, reaching your hand on his back. “‘s this all fo’ me?”

You whined out a ‘yes’, rolling your hips as a way of urging him to move. 

His movements began slow, his cock rubbing heavenly against your walls, making you clench around him. You both moaned and whimpered as your lips brushed.

“Can feel me deep?” He asked, resting his forehead against yours as he pushed his dick all the way in. You nodded, yearning for him to start moving again. “Can feel me in y’belly?”

“H, please,” you begged, gripping your nails on his shoulder blades.”Want you.”

“y’have me,” he kissed you hard before moving again, rolling his hips as he picked up the pace.

 The air around you was hot as you threw your head back with the delicious feeling of him hitting the spot inside of you. He was addicting. The salty taste of his skin. The touch of his hands gripping on your sides. The smell of his cologne faintly mixed with sweat. The sound of his skin meeting yours. It made you earn for him in every possible way. 

You felt your wetness dripping out of you as he pulled your leg up to your chest, allowing him to effectively hit deeper spots. The new position made a cramp start to creep up on your thight, but you ignored it to focus on the way his hips met yours.

Time seemed to pass like a blur as you pleasured each other, but soon enough you felt your orgasm building up. His thrusts became more frequent and smooth as he felt you clench more around him.

“that’s it, baby - fuck,” he grunted, moving his hand down to flicker your clit, causing to arch your back, moaning loudly. “Wanna feel you come for me.”

His cross necklace dangled over you as he watched you closely. You kept your gaze locked on his as you felt the feeling deep in your tummy take over your entire body. A moan got stuck in your throat as you opened your mouth to an ‘O’ shape, digging your nails further on his shoulders as you reached your high.

**

Getting home, you soon realized that throughout the week you had been so lost in your feelings with Harry that you didn’t even think of asking him for his phone number. 

The month that followed passed by surprisingly quickly. During the first week you were swiftly thrown back again into your old reality of course essays and textbooks. You hadn’t heard a word from Harry, and the most frustrating part is that he seemed to have settled his place inside your thoughts. You tried asking about him to Nia once or twice again, but every time she seemed to come up with vague answers and change the subject, so you figured she had other things to worry about. 

It was a disappointing end, to say the least. Even knowing from the start that being let down was the most possible outcome, it didn’t hurt any less. You often wondered if it had been something you’d done that made him pull away, or if he just wasn’t in it from the start.

By the second week you had gotten a job at a tiny local cafe you used to go after class to study and eat cinnamon rolls. That’s when time starting to rush by, as you found yourself busy through most of your day. Nia was working more than you’ve ever seen her. You two barely talked as she spent most of her time with Evan or inside her room editing. And as the week at the camp house got further away, it started to almost seem like you had imagined all of it. 

Having a lot of distractions helped, but you never seemed to push the thought of a certain curly-haired boy completely away. Sometimes during a tedious lesson you would daydream about the feeling of his lips against yours. Or right before you fell asleep you would think about the taste of his skin, how strong his hand were gripping on your thighs. Maybe even at work. When there wasn’t a lot of movement, you could almost hear the sound of his voice.

It was aggravating, the effect he left on you. It got to a point where you got angry; sometimes at him but sometimes at yourself. He was the one who had gone after you, and yet he was the one who disappeared. But again, he didn’t really owe you anything, and that’s what’s frustrating. You were the one who allowed him; you knew from the start that you would get hurt but you still went for it, anyway.

As you got closer to the premiere night that was planned, you started to get anxious. You would catch yourself daydreaming more often, not being as focused as you were. You even started picking your nails again, which is a habit you thought you’d kick it a long time ago. But truth to be told, you were nervous.

The thought about seeing him again made your heart race. You wished that you could somehow find a way not to go. Maybe ask Nia if the two of you could have a private viewing. You had even thought about bribing her with making your mom’s brownie recipe. But you already knew the answer before you even suggested it. This was an important night for her, and you would be there to support it.

You were overthinking this. Was it going to be awkward when you met him? How would you even greet him? Would he kiss you? Would he ignore you? Should you ignore him? All the scenarios in your head made you want to throw up and run away.

**

When the two of you finally arrived, you were greeted by a cheerful Evan, who jokingly teased you for being late. As you got into his house, you found a bigger group than you expected. It seemed like you and Nia were the last ones to arrive, as there was around ten other people in there. Some of them you recognized from being Nia’s friends, others you had never seen, but none was the one you earned to see the most.

Evan guided you across the living room area, “I’ll show you the kitchen so you two can get some drinks,”  He held up his glass as he spoke. Gesturing to the entrance of the room, “We’ll start everything in around ten minutes, so get ready.”

As you entered the kitchen behind Nia, you could feel her stiffen her posture a bit, before looking back at you. You frowned lightly at her, confused by her behaviour, gazing inside the room and finding immediately a pair of green eyes already watching you. It made you think back to the first time you were in this exact position, except in your own kitchen. This time, however, he was the one to approach you.

He looked really good, which did nothing to help the butterflies flying relentlessly in your stomach. He was in all black, a buttoned up shirt with a few buttons open, exposing a bit of the skin on his chest where a silver necklace laid upon. You swallowed dryly at the sight of his hand running swiftly through his hair, with a ring hugging each one of his fingers. 

As he got close, he greeted Nia first, giving her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, before turning his attention back to you. He shot you a shy smile, before embracing you into a hug. You didn’t really know if it was your mind playing tricks but you felt him a bit hesitant as he greeted you and placed a kiss on your cheek. Pulling away, he cleared his throat, running his hand again through his hair, he almost seemed… nervous?

“‘S nice seeing you again,” he mumbled, “this uhm… ‘s my girlfriend, Jess.”

You could felt your heart drop with his words as you finally noticed a smiley girl coming to his side. 

She wasn’t much taller than you, her red hair pulled back in a perfect ponytail. She matched him with a small black dress that annoyingly hugged her body in all the right ways. You could barely register her greeting you, as you tried your best to keep a straight face to hide the shock that took over your body. You felt a heaviness at the pit of your stomach, a feeling so distressful that made you want to scream as an attempt to make it go away.

You didn’t pay a lot of attention as Nia made a conversation with the girl, knowing that’s what she did best. You kept your gaze directed to Harry, your eyes asking a million questions - you didn’t even think you wanted to know the answers to. But he kept his eyes locked on the floor, eventually looking up at the girl in his arms as she seemed to mention him. But never meeting your own.  Her hand was caressing his chest lovingly while his found their way on her waist, keeping her close.

“I think I’ll get something to drink,” you announced, realizing you might’ve interrupted the conversation as they stopped talking. You turned to Nia, “do you want something?”

She looked back at you with sorry eyes, “I should go with you,” she quickly turned back to the girl, “It was lovely meeting you, Jess.”

“Oh! Sure,” she smiled brightly at you two, her hand moving to rest on Harry’s chest, “we should go get our seats as well, right, babe?” 

You left the scene as quickly as you could, not wanting to hear any more of it. Looking at all the drink options on top of the counter, you tried to think which one could get you drunk enough to stop feeling hurt over someone you spent just a week with, but still sober enough so that you could pretend everything was fine. Before you realized, Nia was standing next to you, getting two plastic pink cups before she stared at you with guilty-filled eyes.

“I should’ve just told you about it,” she sighed, “I didn’t want to make you sad, but looking back it was probably best if you already knew.”

You turned your head to look at her, “so you knew it all along?” You swallowed the lump in your throat as you felt it close once again.

“Evan told me like a few days after we got back!” She rushed, “I don’t know if they were together while we were filming.”

You took a deep breath, knowing Nia was probably blaming herself for putting you into this situation. But you knew it wasn’t her fault, she would never purposely put you in this position if she knew about it before.

“You know what, it’s fine,” you tried your best to cover up the hurt and gave her a weak smile, “it’s not your fault Ni. It’s okay. I’m fine.”

She pulled you into a tight hug, “I’m sorry, bubba,” she said, “let’s get you something to drink so you can enjoy this party like the star you are!”

The two of you decided on the vodka mixed with watermelon juice, something you had never even thought of trying before but seemed to be ideal to handle the situation you found yourself in. You walked back to the living area, where people were already beginning to settle on the chairs. 

Following Nia, you prompted yourself on a seat at the edge closest to the door, opposite to where Harry sat with the girl. His girl. You thought bitterly, taking a big sip from your cup and cringing at the strong taste.

There was a speech you didn’t pay much attention to before they started the film, only giving a slight smile when you realized the mention of your name. 

Before you knew it, the lights were out and your face took over the screen. 

It was harder than you thought it would be.  Looking up at the scenes you had with Harry, knowing everything that happened behind the cameras. Knowing every touch and every kiss felt more than just playing a character. You knew the actual feeling of having him to yourself. But now staring at it right in front of you, it just left a sour taste in your mouth. 

You finished your drink barely ten minutes into the film, the feeling of your chest aching starting to become overwhelming as you watched your shared kiss on the big screen. You could feel your throat close once more, your eyes watering a bit.

“I’m gonna get some air,” you whispered to Nia sitting next to you, who gave you a sympathetic smile as you got up. You glimpsed quickly to Harry who had his eyes trained on you, the girl next to him leaning to whisper something in his ear.

You could feel the tears falling down stubbornly as you left the room. Standing in the hallway, you made the decision to turn to the front door instead of the back, not wanting to face anyone with reddish eyes.

You left the house, picking your phone with shaky hands as you managed to call a ride home, sighing in relief as your screen told you it was just about three minutes away.

You heard the door open behind you as stood on the sidewalk hugging yourself to get some warmth on the chilly night. You tried your best to swallow back your tears as you turned around, expecting to find Nia looking at you with pitiful eyes. 

To your surprise, the person standing there was Harry, looking like a deer caught in the headlights as he took in your tearful eyes. He spoke your name in a soft voice, causing you to look away.

“Don’t-” you interrupted, raising your hand at him, “I don’t wanna hear it.”

He frowned at you, not wanting to upset you more. “I’m sorry,” he hesitated, taking a step forward.

Your phone buzzed in your hand, as you watched your ride pulling in front of you. You looked back at him, “I’m sorry too,” you said before moving to enter the car. 

You spared him one last glance through the window as the driver pulled away.

[katsubuns]

Chapter 2 - Denial

Bakugou x Reader // Kirishima x Reader

Masterlist in bio; warnings in Masterlist; chapter specific warnings - none

//

When you woke up the next morning, you had no idea when you had fallen asleep or how you had ended up in your bed. You thought that you must have dozed off on the sofa and Eijiro had carried you into your bedroom. He always did that.

But then you suddenly remembered the events of the previous night and your stomach turned. With panic flowing through your entire body, you quickly extended your arm to the other side of the bed, trying to touch your husband - but his side of the bed was empty and cold.

You started sobbing immediately. You didn't think that you had any tears left to cry, but you were wrong. You turned around onto your stomach, weeping into your pillow. You still had no information on what had happened, nor did you get any confirmation.

But the fact that nobody gave you any good news told you everything you needed to know.

Part of you was still hoping that you took everything the wrong way and that things weren't as bad as you thought they were. Maybe you would walk out of this bedroom, and your beloved Eiji would be standing in the kitchen, preparing his daily shake.

But when you walked down the stairs and entered the kitchen, it was empty.

The blender still sitting on the countertop, exactly where it had been since you cleaned it the previous day. You tried so hard to tell yourself that you were overreacting, that everything was okay, but you failed.

Suddenly you heard the TV in the living room. He was here. He had been here the entire time, and everything had just been a dream. He was probably watching one of those weird American TV shows that he liked so much while waiting for you to wake up.

But when you entered the room, you didn't see him sitting on the sofa. Instead, you saw his face on TV.

"Police have now confirmed that Red Riot fell in battle last night at approximately seven pm. So far, all we know is that during a secret mission, the group of heroes had been ambushed by villains. More details will be announced at a later time. The 25-year-old hero was loved nationwide, he leaves behind his wife who is al-"

The TV switched off abruptly, and you fell to the floor. Everything around you was blurry. This wasn't really happening. You were still asleep. You had to wake up from this nightmare before you lost your mind.

As soon as Katsuki had realised that you were in the room, he had turned off the TV. He wanted to punch himself for turning that damn thing on in the first place. This is not how you were supposed to find out what had happened the previous night.

He got up and walked over to you, scooping you off the floor and moving you over to the sofa. He was cradling you like a baby, he had no idea what else to do. His heart was broken too. He knew that the pain you were feeling was different from his, but he suffered in his own way.

"Please tell me that this isn't true, Katsuki," you pleaded.

He looked into your puffy eyes, and all he wanted was to tell you that it was all a lie. But he couldn't do that. "(y/n)," he said softly. "I don't want to believe it either."

You buried your head in his chest, crying hysterically. He thought that all the crying must have dehydrated you. "Shall we go into the kitchen and get you something to drink?"

"I don't want to drink," you said, sounding like a little child.

Katsuki sighed. "Well, you need to drink, though. I don't want you to collapse."

You cried more. "I don't care. If what they're saying is true, then I don't care about anything anymore."

"Stop talking bullshit, (y/n)," Katsuki said, and you looked at him with a shocked expression. He quickly added an apology. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound rude."

He knew that you were in no shape to take his usual attitude right now. He had to be a bit more careful with how he was expressing himself.

But you shook your head. "Y-you're right." You got up, almost falling over when you tried to walk. You knew that you needed some nutrients to give you at least some strength. You weren't sure if you could keep anything down, but you would try.

Katsuki took your hand and supported you on your way to the kitchen. His hand was calloused, yet really warm and pleasant. But it wasn't Eijiro's hand, which was the only one you really wanted to hold.

When you arrived in the kitchen, you sat down at the table, putting your elbows on the surface and resting your head in your hands. Your mind was cloudy, and your body was exhausted. Your thoughts kept drifting off, and you felt disconnected from the real world. None of this made any sense.

The gentle touch of Katsuki's hand on your shoulder made you look up. He placed a glass of water in front of you. "Drink," was all he said.

You complied and took a sip. But as soon as the water touched your tongue, you started crying again. Katsuki looked at you in utter confusion. "I-I need to know what happened to him."

Katsuki sighed and sat down next to you, putting one of his hands on top of yours. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

You simply nodded. If they wanted you to believe that Eiji was gone, then they needed to give you some solid evidence. "Please tell me, Suki."

His eyes widened in shock, and his heart almost leapt out of his chest. You hadn't called him that in years. It took him way back to the days at UA, where all you would ever call him was Suki. He always pretended that he hated that name, but in reality, he loved the way you made it sound.

You had stopped calling him that right after you started dating Eijiro and he had always been somewhat upset about it. Hearing this nickname leaving your lips again after such a long time, brought back long lost memories and feelings that he had tried so hard to forget.

"Please," you said again, snapping him out of his thoughts. He just looked at you with an expression that you couldn't quite read.

"If you don't want to say it, then you don't have to," you added quickly, taking his silence as a sign that he didn't feel comfortable talking about the recent events.

Katsuki looked confused. "O-oh no it's not that… It's just that you haven't called me that in forever," he said with the faintest of smiles.

You didn't know what he was talking about at first, but then you realised that you had called him Suki. You immediately felt the need to apologise, you knew that he didn't like it when you called him that. "I-I'm sorry, I know you don't like that name," you apologised. "I don't know why I even said that."

He shook his head. "No, it's fine. I actually quite like it," he admitted. "Back then, I was just embarrassed. You know how many issues I had as a teenager."

You couldn't help but snort a little. "Are you saying that you don't have any issues anymore? Because I'd like to disagree with that."

He looked at you, incredibly relieved to see this small display of amusement on your face. It didn't matter if it was just a quiet snort, it was enough to show him that you would be okay one day.

"I have you know that I'm a fully functioning adult," Katsuki finally said, trying to sound more mature than he really was.

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, right, whatever."

For a moment, you both chuckled, but then there was silence. The moment vanished as quickly as it had come. You were pulled back into the nightmare that was supposed to be your reality. Your sorrow came back, crashing down on you with the force of a dying star.

"I don't know what happened either," Katsuki eventually said, breaking the painful silence.

You just nodded. "Maybe the reports aren't true then. Maybe they misto-" You couldn't finish your sentence because Katsuki interrupted you.

"(y/n)." His voice was softer than usual. "I know it's hard and I don't want to believe it either, bu-"

This time it was you who interrupted him. "Until someone gives me proof, I won't believe anything," you snapped. "He's strong, he's fine. They don't know what they're talking about." You tried to convince yourself more than you tried to convince Katsuki. You couldn't give up hope.

Katsuki was just about to answer when suddenly the doorbell rang. You looked into your friend's eyes as if to say "I told you so! I knew he'd come back."

But Katsuki was pretty confident that it was the police standing in front of your house. They did say to him that they would be coming back the next day. Silently he followed you into the hallway, just one step behind you so that he could catch you should you need support.

Your heart was racing. This had to be Eijiro. All your hopes and expectations were behind that door. You would open it, and everything would be okay again.

And yet, you were frozen in place, your hand on the door handle, hesitation flowing through your body.

But what if? What if it wasn't him? What if this nightmare wasn't going to end? You quickly shook your head, trying to shake off the anxiety inside of you. He was there. You just had to let him in.

But when you opened the door, your heart shattered all over again. It wasn't your husband who was standing there looking at you, it was the policeman from the previous night.

"Kirishima-san," he said. "May I come in?"

You toppled backwards, tears forming in your eyes once again. Luckily Katsuki was standing right behind you, offering support when you stumbled. You were thankful for his friendship, now more than ever.

You nodded and led the officer into your house. It felt like his mere presence was tainting everything that you had previously loved about this house. As if the message he was carrying painted all the walls in black - sucking the life out of the place you called home.

You motioned him to take a seat in the living room. He sat down on the sofa; the sofa that Eijiro had convinced you to buy. You never liked it, but he had persuaded you to get it. He had thought that all the points he had brought up were the reason why you had given in, but in reality, it was solely because he loved it and you loved him. You knew it would make him happy and that was more important than the colour of your sofa.

"Would you like a drink?" You heard Katsuki ask the policeman. You had completely forgotten about your manners, so you were thankful for the fact that Katsuki seemed to be able to keep it together. The man simply shook his head and thanked Katsuki for the hospitality.

You sat down across from the officer, Katsuki sitting down right next to you. There was this heavy silence in the room that felt like it would suffocate you any minute. You placed your hands on your lap, nervously playing with the ring on your finger.

The officer cleared his throat, making you look up at him. He looked unsure of how to begin the conversation. On any typical day you would have felt sorry for the man, but not today. All you could see was the harbinger of doom sitting in your living room, ready to tear your heart apart.

"Kirishima-san, I understand that this is a tough time for you and that you weren't ready to hear me out last night... But I would really appreciate it if we could have this conversation today. Would that be possible, please?"

His speech sounded so rehearsed. You knew that he had learned these lines as part of his training. For you, this was real life, news that would change your world forever. While for him, it was just routine. As soon as he had ripped out your heart, he would leave and go back to his own life. Eating dinner with his family, forgetting all about you and the hole he had left inside of you.

"Just say it," you almost whispered, wanting to have the bandaid ripped off for good, instead of bit by bit like it had felt so far. It was hurting so much more to be given information in small doses. At the same time, however, you weren't sure if hearing the whole story would destroy you inside.

He took a deep breath. "As you might have been aware, yesterday afternoon your husband had been assigned to a mission to take out a villain hideout," he began. "Unfortunately this seems to have been a set up as the group of pro heroes was ambushed by said villains."

You looked down, staring at your hands and the ring that was around your finger. You just nodded. You already knew that much. That wasn't what was important. All you needed to know was what happened to your husband.

"The fight was tougher than the group had anticipated. By the time the backup had arrived, the villains had already taken out the majority of heroes," he continued. "It was immediately apparent that there were a lot of serious injuries. Additionally, there were casualties on both sides."

You could feel your breathing stop. Silent tears falling from your eyes, landing on the shiny diamonds of your wedding ring. Why was he dragging this out so much? Was he enjoying the suspense? It was killing you inside. Katsuki put one of his arms around your shoulder, squeezing it softly to show you that you weren't alone. You appreciated it, but it didn't help.

He cleared his throat again. "I'm sad to inform you that your husband was one of them."

The gravity of these words was pulling you down into an abyss of agony. You had thought that hearing those words would cause a torrent of emotions inside of you, but all you felt was emptiness.

Everything was blurry, it didn't matter where you were or what was going on. There was a void opening up around you, which swallowed every bit of colour in the room. You were surrounded by a darkness that came from deep within you.

You heard Katsuki and the officer talk. You couldn't follow their conversation, it was as though they spoke a language that you had never heard before. A part of you had died, withered away with just the sound of a few words. They were still ringing in your ears, like a cacophony in your head.

A cold sensation in the palm of your hand made you flinch, bringing you back into the cruel reality you now had to live in. You looked down and saw your husband's wedding ring resting on your skin, heavy like an anvil.

"I thought you might want this," the officer said. "The rest of his belongings will be brought to you by his colleagues."

You didn't cry. You didn't speak. You didn't move. You just sat there, as shock and denial were flowing through you. Everything was numb. Numb and empty.

The moment you learned of Eijiro's passing, the concept of time had stopped working for you. You were sitting in the same spot for hours, but for you, it felt like time wasn't moving at all. It was as though you were frozen.

You had always had a tendency to overthink things. You didn't believe that it was possible not to continually have your mind filled with endless thoughts - but you proved yourself wrong. Your head was empty, your brain had minimised its functionality, and you had no awareness of anything that happened around you.

Katsuki, on the other hand, was hyper-alert to everything that was going on. He couldn't sit still, was distraught and in incredible pain. He had lost his best friend, the first person he had ever accepted as his equal. And now he was watching the only woman he had ever loved going through the worst time of her life - and he couldn't do anything to help her.

He had thought that watching you fall in love with his best friend was the most painful thing he would have ever had to endure. But then he saw you in your wedding dress, getting married to a man that wasn't him. It had broken his heart in countless ways. But throughout it all, he knew that you were happy. The only thing that kept him going was the knowledge that you were happy. But now, seeing you in such despair, his heart couldn't take it.

He loved Eijiro with all his heart, but he had to admit that there had been times when he had been incredibly jealous. He often asked himself what it would have been like if you would have picked him instead of his best friend. He knew that that was a pointless thought, though. There had been no way for you to make that decision, considering you hadn't even been aware that there was another option available. He had never told you about his feelings, after all.

Right now, he hated himself for ever having been jealous of his friend. Even though he still loved you, he would give anything to have his friend back here with you. Eijiro didn't deserve to die, and you didn't deserve to go through this pain.

He was watching you, not knowing what he was supposed to do. You were in a state of total shock, and no matter what he tried, you did not respond. After the officer had handed you Eijiro's ring, you had snapped, not moving a single muscle. The policeman had left shortly after, and Katsuki had been alone with you since. It had been hours, and he was becoming desperate. He needed to snap you out of it, but he didn't know how.

He had gotten an unending amount of calls. Both on his and your phone - and he tried to ignore as many as possible. But he couldn't ignore your or Eijiro's parents. Had to also pick up when your UA friends called, and he most definitely had to answer when his agency rang, asking whether he was okay to come to work.

He told his boss that he would stay with you for the time being and that work had to wait. He knew that Katsuki was good friends with both you and Red Riot, so he didn't push him to come to work. Katsuki was glad about that, it gave him one less thing to worry about.

There was one person that he had managed to ignore so far, but she was very persistent and had left too many messages to count. His phone was buzzing none stop at this point, and his eyebrow was twitching. He finally snapped and picked up, moving from the living room into the hallway.

"What do you want, woman?" He barked.

He heard huffing from the other side of the phone. "Where the hell are you?"

"That's none of your fucking business," he said irritated.

For a moment, it was silent from the other end and Katsuki already mentally prepared himself for the yelling that he was about to receive. He heard a deep sigh. Here we go, he thought.

"I can't fucking believe you right now, Katsuki. You need to start involving me in your life. If you want to be my boyfriend, then you need to behave like one. Tell me where you are. RIGHT NOW!"

This woman made his blood boil. "I never said I wanted to be your goddamn boyfriend. You lunatic decided that after our first date." He pinched the bridge of his nose, he really didn't need this shit at the moment. "Look, I really can't deal with you and your bullshit attitude right now. I got enough to worry about so stop calling me."

"Is it about that friend of yours? I can come over and help you get your mind off things, Katsuki." Tere was a slight pause. "In fact, I'm right outside your apartment. Hurry up and open the door."

He wanted to yell down his phone so badly, but he didn't want to upset you by raising his voice. "You're fucking crazy. Get the hell out of there. I'm not home."

He could hear that she was just about to protest, but he had hung up on her before she could speak up. This damn woman was so annoying, but no matter what he did, she just wouldn't leave him alone.

After graduation, Katsuki had quickly realised that he would never have a chance with you. He watched you and Eijiro move in together, get engaged and eventually get married. He didn't want to be with a woman that wasn't you, but he knew that he would have to let go at one point.

He had made the mistake of going on a blind date one of his colleagues had arranged for him - that's when he met this little lunatic. He hadn't been with a woman in what felt like an eternity, so he had taken her home with him. It wasn't the worst night he had ever had; the only problem was that she refused to leave him alone ever since.

He had made it clear that he didn't have any feelings for her and that he wasn't interested in a relationship at all. But she ignored it. She said that she was okay if he was just in it for the sex, as long as they would have two dates per month.

Katsuki was reluctant at first, but at the end of the day, he was in his mid-twenties, and he had his needs. It was better than hooking up with random women he met in bars. He should have known that she would fall in love with him, even though he often expressed that they would never become a couple.

For some reason, she ignored everything they had initially agreed upon and kept acting as if he was her boyfriend. He hated it so much, but he felt like he was in too deep to break things off at this point. He hated to admit it, but it could get lonely at nights, especially when he had to think about the woman he loved being with his best friend instead of him.

He shook his head and slapped his cheeks, this was not the time to think about that idiot. He had to focus on you right now. He walked back into the living room, expecting to find you in the exact same position you had been in for the past hours. But instead, you were looking right at him when he entered the room.

"You don't have to babysit me, Suki," you said to him. "You can go see your girlfriend, I know this is hard for you too."

The look on your face was breaking his heart. You were going through the worst time of your life, and yet you were trying to put his feelings first.

He shook his head. "Nope. I'm staying right here with you. That's the only place where I want to be right now."

"Okay."

Katsuki could see that he was losing your attention once again, so he tried to keep you engaged in conversation, but all efforts were futile.

You had crawled back into your shell, isolating yourself from everything around you. He tried to get you to eat, but you wouldn't even open your mouth when he attempted to feed you. He could only hope that over the next days there would be some improvements.

But unfortunately, that wasn't the case. For the next week, you did not move from the spot unless you had to go to the toilet. You refused to sleep in your bedroom, so instead, you shared the sofa with Katsuki. You still didn't want to eat, but you had started accepting food when Katsuki held it right in front of your mouth. He didn't mind feeding you like a child, at least that meant you were eating. You also wouldn't shower unless he carried you into the bathroom and forced you to.

Both your and Eijiro's parents had come over to see how you were doing, but you hadn't talked to either of them. They could only imagine what you were going through and had no idea how to handle the situation. They were all devastated as well, but none of them had gone on such a steep mental decline as you had.

Your family had tried to engage you in the funeral preparations, but when they had started talking about it, you had just absentmindedly shaken your head and rocked yourself back and forth.

There had also been calls and visits from lawyers and other officials. There was a lot of legal documentation to be signed when a spouse was killed while on duty, and you really needed to take care of this paperwork, but you couldn't do it.

Because acknowledging all these problems, would have meant that you had to acknowledge that Eijiro was gone and you couldn't do that. You were in a state of absolute denial, and nothing seemed to be able to get you out of it.

You didn't even fully realise that all these things were going on around you. It was as though your body was on autopilot while your mind was slowly decaying. You had no idea how much time had passed, and you didn't really want to know. If you started counting the days since you had last seen your husband, you would drive yourself insane.

You felt so lost without him, so weak and alone. You couldn't accept the fact that he was gone. How were you supposed to live your life without the person you had been with for almost ten years? You were a team, he was your rock, and you needed him by your side.

You hadn't cried a single tear since the policeman had told you about what had happened to Eijiro. You didn't realise that it was because you were still in denial and that your tears would start flowing again very soon.

Two strong arms wrapped around you and you flinched, looking up into beautiful red eyes. Your heart skipped a beat. Your husband had returned, and he was leading you upstairs into your bedroom. But you quickly realised that the person carrying you was warmer than your husband. You blinked and the bubble you had been in popped. It wasn't Eijiro, it was Katsuki.

"W-what are you d-doing?" You asked with a weak voice.

He looked at you with sad eyes. "I'm helping you get ready."

"Ready for what?" You asked, confused.

Katsuki sighed and didn't know what to say. He knew that you wouldn't take this information very well, but he obviously had to tell you. He took a deep breath.

"Eijiro's funeral."

//

Tag list in comments. If you want to be added please let me know.

[curly-bangtan]

Heatwave Drabble #8: contaminated

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- read first!

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: We’re always gonna be contaminated.

Genre: drabble, angst, fwb au, roommate au, f2l

Warnings: more feels!

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: Title named after the song Contaminated by BANKS. (Should give it a listen after reading!) Unedited!!!

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“So what you’re telling me is, you fucked your roommate slash best friend who thought you were seducing him in the middle of a heatwave, and now, 9 months into sleeping together, you’re in love with him. Not only sleeping with, but also doing domestic coupley things like cooking together and cuddling during Netflix, but you guys not once made it official, or even exclusive because you both have commitment issues. And you thought he loved you too, so you decided to test him by saying you’re going on a date with someone to see his reaction, only for that to backfire right in your face because he slept with someone out of anger.”

You blink. “Man, why d’you have to put it like that?”

“Put it like what? I just summarised everything you told me concisely.” He laughs and pulls you in closer. You can’t help but note how different he smells, not bad, but just not what you’re used to. “So in conclusion, you’re both idiots and now you’re heartbroken.”

“I- I’m not heartbroken, I wouldn’t go that far. I’m just… a bit bummed out.” You avoid his gaze, squirming in his arms because the heat under the covers is starting to get to you.

“Wow, one night with you and I already know how stubborn and headstrong you are. You literally teared up a minute ago when you were talking about him. This is your problem: even now, you’re not willing to admit your true feelings. How well has that worked for you so far?” He shakes his head in dismay, his investment in your predicament surprisingly genuine.

This is a weird as fuck situation you’ve gotten yourself in. Out of desperation for relief from your, okay fine, heartbreak, you went out last night and came home with a guy. Taehyung had also gone out, and judging by the fact that it’s now the morning after and he still has yet to return, you can guess the direction in which his night went. It stings, but now you’re a hypocrite. This guy who you don’t even know the name of, Club Guy, has turned out to be more than just a fuck though. He knew he was the rebound for someone else, and he was more than glad to help. But one thing led to another, and the next thing you know, after your third round, you are pouring your heart out to this guy - this random, incredibly attractive, amazing at giving head, guy from the club.

It would be awfully strange, except he is unusually good at comforting people. You’re might consider keeping this one as a friend.

“Dude, I know it’s not my forte. I’m not good at expressing my emotions, okay?” You revel in the softness of his fingertips as he feathers your back. The sun is peeking through your curtains; you’re counting down the minutes until Taehyung returns, but at least speaking to Club guy is taking your mind off the fact that he was with someone else last night. “Yes, I’m heartbroken. I… I fucking love him. I know it was my fault for trying to get a reaction from him, but I just wanted him to say it, you know? Say that he loves me out in the open and that he wants me to… I don’t know, be his girlfriend. Girlfriend? Is that the right word? It sounds so weird. I don’t fucking know.”

Club Guy rolls his eyes, sighing at your ineptitude to grasp the simple concept of love. “Yes, girlfriend. God, you’re so annoyingly cute.” He smiles a smile at you that others would surely swoon for, and though your mind is too preoccupied with the boxy grin of someone else, you appreciate the warmth in his eyes. “Look, was it the night before the last that this all went down?”

“Yes.” Too fresh, too soon for you to be sleeping with someone else, you know. But you needed it so badly, you just needed to take your mind off him.

“What about the morning after? Surely you’ve seen each other since. From how you described him, I feel like there’s no way he could bring someone home knowing that you’re in the room next door.”

The memory sears.

You distinctly remember hearing their awkward morning-after conversation out in the dining room. After a long debate of whether to go out and reveal yourself to them or not, you decided that, fuck it, you’d already cried yourself to sleep last night because of this stupid son of a bitch, there is no reason for you to inconvenience yourself just to save Taehyung an even more awkward encounter. And so you stormed out of your room, eyes probably still a bit puffy and red, pretended you can’t see them and proceeded to make yourself a smoothie.

Yes, a homemade smoothie. You made sure to turn the setting of the blender all the way up so it was as loud and noisy as possible. You’re petty like that.

Especially because she’s using your mug.

Taehyung’s look of surprise when he saw you come out of your room did not give you even a fraction of satisfaction. Just a sad pang in your heart.

“I- Oh. I didn’t know you were home.” There was shame in his voice, and you hated every twist of your heart that it elicited.

You ignored him, not even a second of eye contact, poured that mango and berry smoothie and padded back into your room.

You had cried into your smoothie because his hair was messy like it usually was in the morning, voice still a deep rasp and eyes not fully open yet. And you had wanted to hug him so badly.

“It was awkward. I was a cold bitch and ignored him when I interrupted their breakfast. But no, he didn’t know, he was shocked to see me home.” You mutter, burying your face into your pillow to try to forget yesterday morning.

You could have said something, at least shown how hurt you were so he would apologise. Because you know he would apologise. But of course, you had a prideful image to uphold. Classic classic.

“Then…” Club Guy runs his fingers through your hair, twirling at the ends. “Then I feel like it’s really not too late. I’ll be out of here soon, and when he comes back, just sit him down and speak to him calmly. Calmly being the key word here. Explain to him that you weren’t actually remotely interested in the guy you went on a date with, and just wanted to prompt him to make you his. Tell him that you made a mistake and you’re hurt by what he did, but you can look past it because you were both in the wrong. Or maybe just tell him that you love him and don’t want to be with anyone else. It’s your choice whether you tell him about you and me, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him is all I’m saying.”

You contemplate his words. It sounds easy as hell when he says it like that, but you know when the moment comes, you will freeze up, panic, and muck it up somehow. It’s just a ‘I’m sorry’ and three simple words. Yet it feels like the most difficult thing you’re going to do.

“But what if he doesn’t understand. What if he doesn’t even like me like that, I feel like I could be grossly misinterpreting things.” You’ve pondered about this possibility since two nights ago. Afterall, how could he just go out and sleep with someone like that right after your fight if you mean so much to him? But then again, look at you now - likewise in bed with someone, albeit mostly for therapeutic reasons.

Club Guy shakes his head looking at you, almost in pity at how you could possibly still not get it. Smirk playing at his lips that remind you so much of Taehyung’s smugness. Fuck, it hasn’t been two days and you already miss him so much that your bones ache.

“Look, your best friend is head over heels in love with you and you’re seriously blind for not being able to see this earlier. Didn’t you say he would stay up all night with you during exam season to make you coffee and massage your shoulders? There’s no question about it, the guy is more whipped than whipped cream.”

Club Guy sits up, the covers falling off his front to reveal his toned sparsely tattooed body. You watch him wordlessly get dressed, the storm that is your mind whirling you into pieces. He’s right. He’s so right, and you hate it. The solution is honestly so simple. You and Taehyung are like two dots on a blank page. Instead of a mere straight line to connect the dots, you drew spirals around each other, closer and closer but never touching.

Should you tell him about Club Guy? You feel like you should. Though he is right, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. But you don’t want any more games, anymore dishonesty. Straight line.

“Uh, thank you for talking this out with me, I appreciate it. I’ve had no one to talk to about this because none of my friends know about him and I, and it’s kind of too late for me to drop the bomb now.” The awkwardness begins to trickle in, on your part at least. Club Guy just smiles that smile at you, rather pleased with himself.

“I should have charged you for that.” He shimmies into his skin tight black jeans, eyes crescent in amusement.

“What, the sex or the therapy session?” You joke. It’s sad because he has such potential to be a great fuck buddy, and you 9 months ago would not have hesitated to make him your next booty call. But the truth is, even as you were kissing, fucking someone else, you were imagining Taehyung the whole time.

If love is a sickness, you’re plagued on your deathbed.

Club Guy laughs. “If it doesn’t work out, call me I guess. But I’m rooting for the two of you idiots. You better not fuck this up.” When he slides into his shoes, you realise how much you dread him leaving. Firstly, because finally speaking to someone about all your pent up emotions for Taehyung feels like a weight lifted off your chest. Secondly, because you really don’t want to be left alone right now. You don’t want to agonise over every second that Taehyung isn’t home yet.

Lethargically, you stretch over the covers and roll out of bed, your limbs feeling especially heavy with the looming pressure of what you have to say to Taehyung. “I’ll… walk you out.”

The next series of events happens in shutters.

Mid yawn, as you’re scuttling down the hallway after Club Guy to see him out, the front door swings open. Taehyung walks in in yesterday’s clothes, wearing a miserable expression to begin with. But when his eyes glance up and locks on your male company, his face…

Shatters.

You have never seen Taehyung’s temper explode before. You’ve witnessed his grumpy tantrums, his quiet sulking, but this - a detonation of pure rage, catalysed by shock - runs your blood ice cold.

‘What the fuck?’ His voice is deadly low, eyes flying between the two of you. And instantly, you’re filled with a reciprocating anger. He can’t possibly go off on you right now, he can’t have the fucking nerve. Not when you hadn’t said a word about him and that girl yesterday.

“Holy shit…” From the corner of your eye, Club Guy turns a ghastly sheet of white.

It doesn’t dawn on you until he spits his name out like poison. ‘Park Jimin, what the fuck?’

And sense exits your brain.

You can’t move a muscle if you wanted to, nor utter a sound. You feel like flotsam, swept away by a roaring wave. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. Of all people, all people, you slept with Park Jimin. As in Taehyung’s ex-best friend who his girlfriend had cheated on him with, Park Jimin.

“Oh my fucking god. Kim Taehyung…” To his credit, Jimin can at least speak, unlike you. Gone was the lovely, charming guy talking you through your crisis. He brushes his hair back in disbelief. “I- What the fuck… I swear I didn’t know she’s your girl.” You try not to let the words ‘your girl’ sink in too much. Because you were his, even if you weren’t.

“I swear to fucking god. I give you 10 seconds to leave my house before I kill you.” Not only can you not believe your poor luck of managing to bring home Jimin of all people from a random bar, you also cannot believe the fury seething from Taehyung, someone who you no longer recognise.

Jimin does not need to be told twice; he spares you one last glance before dashing out.

After the door slams, there’s just silence. Your eyes fixed on Taehyung’s, mind trying to comprehend how royally you’ve fucked up once again. You’re desperately trying to convince yourself that it isn’t your fault, you didn’t know. But the hurt trickling through Taehyung’s angry facade inoculates you with enough guilt to make you nauseous.

“Seriously?” Taehyung is trembling, from rage or heartache you don’t know. “You fucked Jimin?”

“I… I had no idea, I swear, Taehyung.” You want to move towards him but your feet stay planted on the ground. Your own throat is trembling, definitely out of heartache. You can’t imagine the pain tearing through him right now.

Another moment of an agonising silence. Every second you’re just standing there flabbergasted is a fresh stab to your chest. How did you two get to this place?

“So you fucked him? Yes or no?” When his voice cracks, it takes everything in you to keep the tears from springing.

You swallow. “Yes.”

Taehyung shuts his eyes, and it feels like he’s shutting the chapter of his life that is you. The end is looming, you can feel it. You don’t see how you two could possibly recover from this. How could he forgive you?

“Did it not cross your mind that that Jimin you were fucking could be the Jimin who stole my ex-girlfriend? Like the Jimin that led me to move in with you in the first place? Did I seriously not cross your mind even once?” His words are a slap after slap, no, even more physical than a slap.

Did he not cross your mind, he has the audacity to ask. He was the only thing on your mind, that idiot.

“I didn’t know his name, Taehyung.” You try to suppress the surge of injustice you feel. Of course you thought about him. How could he even ask something like that, as if you’ve done this out of malice.

“Oh, right.” He scoffs, shoulders dropping. “I forgot, you fuck guys without learning their names.”

And just like that, the line between sadness and anger is breached.

“Excuse me? What did you just say to me?”

“Do you want me to repeat it?”

Somehow, anger hurts more than the guilt you had felt. It manifests as something grotesque festering away in your chest, all the bitterness, the tears, the heartbreak, all condensed into this ugly emotion.

“Taehyung, you went and fucked someone first while I was in the room next door.” His tightly drawn brows soften a little. “I heard everything, every creak of the bed, every moan, every fucking thing. You have no idea how much that killed me, not a single fucking idea.” You feel your face crumpling, eyes stinging, and you hate falling apart like this in front of him, but there’s nothing holding your broken pieces together anymore. “I didn’t say a single word about it, shit, I even let that bitch use my mug while I was dying inside. And now you have the nerve to pin this on me and make me feel like a worthless piece of shit.”

You watch it dawn on him, the distraught state of your mind. And you want it to feel like a competition, like ha, you hurt me way more. But it isn’t. There is no winner. There’s just you two, gradually losing each other.

“I was drunk…” He croaks. “And I didn’t know you were home, I thought you went home with Junho.”

“You really think that little of me. Then you don’t know me at all if you think I would’ve done that. But look at yourself, you didn’t text me once that night, just went straight out to the club and fucked some girl. And what about last night? You didn’t come home either.” You hiss, pitch raising.

“I didn’t sleep with her last night. I couldn’t even kiss her for more than a minute on her bed because it felt so wrong it made me fucking sick. I stayed on her couch and thought about you all fucking night. Happy?”

The truth rams into you no lighter than a train. You curse yourself. You curse him. This spectacular mess is unravelling so devastatingly that you want to scream. You can’t stomach the thought that you were fucking Jimin while he was thinking about you. Your situations mirrored one night after the next.

“And you say you were dying inside, but what about me? Hmm?” He flings his arms in exasperation. “Well what about me? How do you think I felt when I found out you were going on a date with some guy I’ve never heard you mention? How do you think I felt when you left me here all alone after that fight to wonder what the hell you were going to do with him that night? What else could I have done except get so drunk that I didn’t even remember my own name?” Seeing pain splatter across his beautiful features perhaps ruins you more than anything else. But your own pain is ringing.

“You didn’t even text me once! All you needed to do was tell me not to go, and I would have fucking stayed!” You cry, your throat dry and clogged.

“Did you want me to get on my fucking knees and beg? I didn’t have a right to tell you not to go. If you wanted to go, who am I to stop you?” He yells, a sheen now coating over his eyes, much like your own.

“GOD, I didn’t want to go, Taehyung! I don’t like him at all! Junho was nice but my mind wasn’t on him for even one second. I was coming back home to tell you I love you because I can’t stomach being with anyone else. But guess what? You were out pulling someone else because I clearly meant so little to you. Then I had to stay up all night listening to your fucking sex noises. I’m not the one who fucked up first here.”

Taehyung takes a breath to retort, but stops. Nothing but woundedness in his eyes. It’s clear that your words are embedding into him. The I was coming back home to tell you I love you. His expression falls, rapid breathing slows.

You’re looking at each other like you don’t recognise the other. Because it has never been like this between you two before. He has never felt more foreign, distant.

And when a wave of silence to calm you both has passed, he says quietly, “Why did you have to do that to me in the first place? I… I thought it was clear how I felt…”

The thundering tempest of your temper eases completely at the brokenness in his eyes. Acrid taste of regret in your mouth at the words that you hadn’t meant. Taehyung wasn’t the one who fucked up first, you shouldn’t have pulled that whole date thing. If you had just trusted him, and given him time, you would not be here right now.

But look at you two, fighting once again. Calmly, Jimin had said. And even that, you weren’t capable of. This is a childish game, the tossing of blame, and you’re drained. You don’t want to fight anymore. You don’t want to hurt. But you don’t know how to end this without ending everything.

“You really, really hurt me, Taehyung. But I was still willing to let it go. I was waiting for you to come back to tell you that… To tell you how I feel.” Your voice is soft now, diminished to just more than a whisper. You feel so extremely vulnerable, your frame creases inwards.

“You slept with Jimin…” Taehyung breathes, fists slowly unclenching. “Y/N, not just anyone, Jimin. I know I’d be a hypocrite if it were anyone else, but it’s him.”

“I didn’t know it was Jimin.”

“I didn’t know you were home after the date.”

For a good long second, you just stare at each other, chests heaving, throats raw, and you wonder if you are going to kiss and make up right this instant. Because for a moment, it feels like you could. It feels like you could forsake the past and just start anew.

But the window for that opportunity passes by as neither one of you takes a step forward.

You’re going in circles, you know.

“This isn’t going to work.”

Despite everything, this has been the hardest thing for you to say yet. And this time, you let the tears roll down. Your heart is screaming at you because it is on fire, but you persist through it because you know this has to stop and he doesn’t have the heart to say it so it has to be you.

And you just look long and hard at Taehyung, watch his eyes widen, shift, as he registers the finality of this outcome. It has been a wreckage. Only fragments of what once was a beautiful thing is left. You can’t keep hurting each other like this, and he finally knows it.

“What do you mean?” He asks, as if your heart hasn’t broken enough.

You want to fall onto your knees and sob.

“I mean, this needs to end. We’re doing and saying things we don’t mean and causing each other so much pain. If it was meant to work, it would have worked. I don’t want to keep doing this, Taehyung. Let’s stop this before we hurt more.”

Falling. Tears keep falling.

You’re breathing, yet choking on air.

Taehyung’s cheeks are stained, eyes rimmed with red. You have to clamp down on your lips to prevent yourself from crying out loud. When he closes his eyes, streams flow out, and you don’t think you’ve ever experienced greater pain. You want to hold him so badly, so badly. You want to tell him that you’re sorry for everything, and that you’ll always forgive him no matter what he’s done. But you can’t. Because you know things can never return to the way they were. Neither of you will be able to forget what the other’s done, it will live in the back of your minds, eating away at your insecurities.

Your love is tainted. Contaminated. And always will be now.

And even still, the selfish part of you wants him to say something, protest, fight for you. But you know he won’t. Because you know he knows it won’t be the same.

“So this is it? It’s over?” Cracks in his voice, cracks in your hearts.

It’s over.

But you can’t say it, so you just nod. All of this, just gone within days. Was your love so fragile to begin with? You were such a fool to believe that it would be enough.

“You can stay here, I’ll go.” You finally tear your eyes away from him, vision but a white glassy blur. You would rather him stay, it’s the least amount of respect you could offer to show how much he means to you.

And as you’re about to turn away, “You know that I love you, right?”

He says it, the first and last time you’ll hear those three words containing the meaning you’ve been seeking.

The tears don’t feel like they can stop.

“I know. I love you, Taehyung.”

And that has been your problem. You love each other too much but trust yourselves not enough.

.

A/N: Sorry SORRY!! Don’t hate me… ;----; one part left </3

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22/02/19

© Copyright 2020

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@taexxxiiaa @shookpreme @taetaeobsessed @tangledsparkles @nonexistentfucks @evilkookie @nbiased95 @taehyungmakesmeoof @itscalledgayhoney @tahaing @deliciouslydisturbed365 @expensive-bangtan-girl @jwlmnbt @herakimkim @dnyad @kaepjjang365 @gingerpeachtae @spring2787 @askingtheimportantthingshere @casualminiaturetimemachine @vasysauce @deadinsidebitch2412 @emiyooa @i-dont-even-know-fck @chimycthulhu @gixanjos @hisunshiine @xtaeyi @softjellyjimin @bluemooncnblue @malfeitofeitto @bangtanfancamp @keopitae @out-of-jams@camilaxpolanco @d-noona @haechanspudu @dawnispeace @vante-visuals@liquanzhe222 @bangtanloverrrrr @inner-monologue @bs14401 @seokjoontae @trviahope @comingjimin @jeonsshadow

[gryffindorcls]

Knitted Miracles

Hello, lovely readers!

This is my piece for the ML Secret Santa 2019 exchange ( @mlsecretsanta ).

@miraculousnisses, this for you. I heard that you liked Marichat and Adrienette, so here is Part 1 of a fluff-filled fic with both! I hope you enjoy it!

Be on the look-out for Part 2.  It will be posted later this week!

AO3

FanFiction

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Part 1

“So, bakery girl, huh?” Plagg poked his holder on the arm.

Adrien glared at his Kwami. “Not now, Plagg.”

“Oh, yes, now. Kid, we really need to talk about this.”

“No, we don’t. Why are you bringing this up right now anyway?”

Plagg looked at him with sadness behind his eyes. “You really don’t know?”

“No,” Adrien said, shaking his head.

“Let’s just say that for someone who’s supposed to be trying to start a relationship with Kagami, you looked like one smitten kitten with Marinette today.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Even though you’ve never said it out loud, I think we both know that you have very strong feelings for Marinette."

Adrien turned away. “Stop it. I’m not in love with Marinette.”

Plagg deadpanned. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No, I’m not. Marinette is just a…”

“Don’t you dare say ‘friend’. I saw the way you were looking at her when you two went to the park with Alya and Nino. That’s not the first time I’ve caught you looking at her like that. You didn’t even look at sword girl like that when you took her to that fancy restaurant last week.”

“Really?” Adrien ran his fingers through his hair. “Are you sure? Because I felt like the two of us had a connection.”

Plagg groaned. “Felt or wanted to feel.”

“Uhhhh…”

“Kid, this isn’t my first time watching two teenagers drool over each other. You look at Kagami with fondness. I can tell that you care about her, but I’m really not feeling the love. Now, Marinette...that’s a whole other look. I’ve seen pictures of you as Chat Noir, and the only other girl you looked at like that was your spotted partner.”

“I don’t want to think about Ladybug right now.”

“Is that because you’re thinking about Marinette?”

Adrien took a deep breath before continuing. “Look, I can’t be in love with Marinette. She is in love with Luka.”

The Kwami crossed his arms. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes?”

“You didn’t sound too sure just then.”

“They’re together all the time.”

“That doesn’t mean that they’re dating.”

“I guess not.”

“So, go tell the girl how you feel.”

Adrien walked over to his bed and took a seat. “I can’t.”

“That’s not true, and we both know it.” Plagg zipped over to Adrien and landed on his lap. “You were able to tell Ladybug how you felt.”

“That was different. Marinette is different. She’s…”

“Real. There are no masks to get in the way of you two getting to know each other. Marinette is a girl who you see almost every day, and she’s your friend.”

“Yeah, I...Plagg, no! I can’t think about this right now.”

“And why not?”

“I just can’t.”

Plagg met his gaze. “I swear on all the cheese in the world, if you can tell me with one hundred percent certainty that you are not in love with Marinette, I will stop.”

“I can’t do that either,” Adrien said, shaking his head.

“Let me get this straight. Right now, you’re saying that you can’t tell Marinette that you’re in love with her.

"Yes."

"And at the same time, you can’t tell me that you’re not in love with Marinette.”

“Also, yes.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It does to me.”

“Does it really?”

“Uhhh...yes?”

The tiny being sighed. “I’m tired of seeing you look sad all the time. I was hoping things would work out with Kagami, but I knew they wouldn’t. She isn’t right for you. It’s like trying to fit a brass key into a silver lock. You two aren’t made for each other. I think it’s time for you to go after something that will make you happy.”

“Happy?” Adrien stared blankly across the room.

“Yes, happy. I think Marinette could make you happy. Last Christmas, you ran out of this room and almost Cataclysmed a tree. I don’t want that for you again this year. Or...even worse...I don’t want to see you get Akumatized. That would be catastrophic. This time of year seems to make you feel sad, and being in a relationship with someone who you really love could change everything for you.”

“I don’t know, Plagg.”

“Trust me, kid. A miserable Chat Noir is not nearly as effective as a happy Chat Noir, and you’ve been unhappy for a while. You need this. Paris needs this. We all need this.”

Adrien drooped. “But I can’t just go up to her and tell her that I like her. We’re friends, and she’s never shown any interest in being anything more.”

Plagg cackled. “Please tell me you’re joking? That’s a joke, right? I mean, I know you said that when you thought she was in love with Luka, but I thought you were just saying that to make yourself feel better.”

“I’m not following you.”

“That girl has been head over heels for you two met...well, once she stopped being mad at you.”

“That’s not possible. She told me that she only likes me as a friend.”

“And you believed her?”

“Yes? Was I not supposed to?”

Plagg shook his head. “Wow. Your love for Ladybug really blinded you from the truth, didn’t it? I think it’s time that you started paying closer attention. What you see might just surprise you.”

Adrien’s mind began to wander. “Do I really like Marinette? She’s always been just a...no. Plagg’s right. Marinette is special, but is that love? And if it is, could she really be in love with…”

His thoughts came to a screeching halt as an alarm pierced through the silence. “Ugh. I don’t have time for this right now. I have a solo patrol tonight, and Ladybug will be really ticked off if I miss it.”

The Kawmi shrugged. “I guess I’m ready whenever you are.”

“Plagg, CLAWS OUT!”

***

Marinette sat quietly at her desk and did her best to focus on the steady pattern she was supposed to be creating with her knitting needles. It was a repetitive activity, but it helped to take her mind off of the creeping sadness that threatened to bubble to the surface if she let her thoughts wander for too long. Her hands moved rhythmically as she tried to ignore the tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. As her vision blurred, her frustration grew.

Upon reaching the end of a row, she did her best to blink away the tears before inspecting her work. Marinette held the dark blue scarf up to the light only to find that she had skipped several stitches. Wetness fell from her eyes and warmed her cheeks as she pulled apart her work.

In an annoyed huff, she threw the scarf, skein, and needles to the ground. Marinette buried her head in her hands and sobbed.

“I can’t do this, Tikki!” she cried.

Within seconds, she felt the gentle pressure of her Kwami landing on her shoulder. “Oh, Marinette. You’ve made plenty of scarves before. It’s okay to make a mistake every once in a while. See! You went back and fixed it. Now you can make it even better than it was before.”

“I wasn’t talking about the scarf.”

“I know. I was just trying to take your mind off of everything.”

Marinette lifted her head and offered the tiny red being the biggest smile she could muster. “Thanks, Tikki. I appreciate it, but it’s just been so hard since...and the Miracle Box...and now the scarf...I can’t. I thought I did the right thing by giving up Adrien.”

“You did what you thought was best.”

“Did I? Because it doesn’t feel that way right now?”

“Only you can answer that question.”

“Did you see the way he was looking at me today? I wanted it to be love. That’s wrong! I shouldn’t have these feelings anymore.”

“It’s okay, Marinette. You’ve had a lot of changes in your life over the past few months.”

“Why do I still feel like this? Why do I feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest and thrown into a blender? Sure, I had a few days where I felt okay with my decision, but it’s getting harder now. Luka has been so kind and patient. I know he loves me, but I can’t even give him a chance because I can’t let go of my feelings for another boy. And now I’m making him this scarf for Christmas...I’m even using the same pattern I used for Adrien’s. I’m a failure, and this is a disaster!”

“You’re not a failure.”

“Then why do I feel like I am?”

Tikki landed on the desk and looked up. “Well, do you think you followed your heart?”

Marinette wiped the tears off her face with the back of her hand. “I just want Adrien to be happy. He was happy with Kagami.”

“And you don’t think that Adrien could be happy with you?”

“I didn’t say that. It’s just that he’s always called me his friend. He’s never seen me as anything more than that.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Tikki, I’m sure.”

“You know, today’s not the first time I’ve seen Adrien look at you that way. I think he’s always had feelings for you, but I also think he doesn’t realize what those feelings mean.”

“What?”

Tikki smiled. “You mean you didn’t notice?”

Marinette looked away. “No...I mean...why would I? I’ve tried to push away my feelings for him. Honestly, until recently, I was simply trying to not make a fool out of myself when I talked to him. We can see how well that worked out.”

“Even when you got nervous or stuttered, he still looked at you with love in his eyes. I saw it all the time. He never made a declaration like Luka did, but you don’t always need words to express your love for another person. Actions speak just as loudly.”

“It doesn’t matter. Adrien is dating someone.”

“Did he say that he was dating someone?”

“No.”

“And you’re friends with Kagami, right? Did she say that she was dating Adrien?”

“No.”

“So…”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Tikki! I just can’t! I can’t go back to having that stupid, mind-numbing crush on him.

The Kwami smiled. “You know, I think it might be different this time. Maybe you should try being honest with Adrien. Nothing extravagant...just talk to him. You two seem to have become much closer over the past few months.”

“We have, but I can’t just go up to him!”

“Why not?”

“Because that never worked before!”

“That’s because you were overthinking it. Just look for an opening in the conversation the next time you talk to him.”

“Oh, yeah, right. Like any conversation I have with Adrien is ever going to go in that direction.”

“You never know.”

“It’d take a miracle for that to happen.”

Marinette put her head on the desk as a heavy silence fell between the two of them. Moments later, she heard a crash on the balcony, causing her to jump and scream.

“Tikki!” she whispered loudly, “HIDE!”

The red Kwami zipped out of view as Marinette grabbed a textbook off of her desk and carefully climbed the ladder to her bed. Using the book as a shield, she tentatively opened the hatch that led to her balcony.

“I don’t know who you are or how you got here, but I have...a...uh...A BOOK! And I’m not afraid to use it!” she yelled into the night.

Still covering her face with the textbook, Marinette heard a pained groan. “Ugh...I’m sorry, Marinette. I just...I wasn’t watching. I don’t even know why I’m here. I shouldn’t be here. I’ll go. I’m so sorry.”

She lowered the book and dropped it onto her bed when her eyes fell on her partner sprawled across the ground with a lawn chair lying on top of him. “Chat?”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“Do you need help?”

“Yes, please.”

Marinette walked over to the fallen hero, uprighted the lawn chair, and extended her hand. Chat took it and lifted himself off of the ground.

“Thanks,” he mumbled under his breath.

She gave him a small smile. “Anytime, but I have to ask...is there a reason why you’re here?”

Chat looked away. “Umm...it’s not important. Once again, I’m sorry I bothered you. I’ll just get going now.”

“Wait!” Marinette shouted, surprising herself.

He turned around to face her. “Yes?”

“I...uh...um...did you want to come in?”

“You want me to come inside your room?”

“Uh...yes? I could use the company right now.”

“Why do you need…” He paused before continuing to speak. “Marinette, have you been crying?”

She lowered her head. “No.”

Chat slowly approached her. When he was close enough, he extended his hand and lifted her head by gently pushing up her chin with his finger.

“Oh, Marinette,” he whispered, “Why are you sad? Who did this to you? Someone with a soul as beautiful as yours shouldn’t be crying.”

She stifled a small sob. “No one did anything. It’s all my fault...or maybe it’s no one’s fault...I don’t even know anymore.”

“Would you really feel better if I came inside? I’d do anything to see you smile right now.”

Marinette felt her cheeks grow warm. “I...uh...maybe? It’s worth a try. We’re friends...right?”

He smiled. “Yes, we’re friends, and I think I could use the company right now, too.”

Marinette reopened the hatch and beckoned for Chat to follow. In a matter of seconds, she and the leather-clad hero were standing in the middle of her room. They both seemed to be waiting for the other person to speak first.

After a minute that felt like a lifetime, she finally broke the silence. “You can sit anywhere you’d like. Just let me put away the scarf I was working on. It’s not like I’m actually going to get it done tonight anyway.”

Marinette walked over to her desk and picked up the discarded project while Chat padded over to her chaise and took a seat.

She tossed the scarf into a drawer, sat down in her desk chair, and looked up. “Would you like something to eat or drink? I can grab some pastries from the kitchen if you’d like.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

“Okay. Just let me know if you need anything.”

“Actually, can I ask what the scarf is for? Is that why you’re upset? You seem kind of frustrated with it.”

“Well, it’s for someone who I care for very much, but let’s just say that it’s shaping up to be the most thoughtless gift I’ve ever made.”

“You’re taking time out of your day to make this person something. How can that be thoughtless?”

“This scarf isn’t exactly an original idea.”

“So? I for one can tell you from personal experience that getting a homemade scarf is a really wonderful gift.”

Marinette slumped in the chair and sighed. “Not this one.”

Chat got up, sat on the floor in front of Marinette, and took her hands in his. “Would you like to talk about it? It might make you feel better.”

“No?”

“You didn’t sound too sure about that.”

Tears began to fall from her eyes as she pulled her hands away from Chat and covered her face. “I’m not sure about anything anymore! I thought I was, but I’m not! I feel even more lost than I was before!”

“Oh, no, Princess. Please don’t cry again. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay. Trust me, I was feeling pretty unsure about some things today, too. It helped when I talked about it, but if you just want to sit, that’s fine. What can I do to make you feel better?” he asked, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Marinette chuckled at the sound of his nickname for her. “I could use a hug.”

“Consider it done.”

“But we barely know each other.”

“That’s not true. You just said we were friends. We’ve talked before, and you even told me that you loved me once.”

She sniffled and did her best to smile. “Yeah...I’m sorry about that, by the way.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Why?”

“Because I was actually in love with someone else. I panicked...for...uh...reasons...and I messed everything up! I always mess everything up! Why couldn’t I be braver, Chat? If I was, maybe I wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Chat held open his arms. “I think it’s time for that hug. Come here.”

Marinette bit her lip. “Really?”

He nodded, and she slid onto the floor next to him. The second Chat wrapped his arms around her, she felt all the tension in her muscles disappear. Marinette could have sworn that she heard the slight rumble of a purr as she melted into his embrace.

“Chat?” she asked, snuggling against his chest.

He tightened his hold on her. “Yes?”

“Did you mean it when you said you’d listen if I talked about what was on my mind?”

“Yes, Princess. I’m all ears, and this cat’s got excellent hearing.”

She pulled away from him. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I told you a really stupid yet incredibly painful story?”

Chat reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “If it’s bothering you, then it’s not stupid.”

“No, it’s stupid, or at least it makes me feel that way sometimes. I’ve never told the whole story to anyone...not even Alya. She knows most of it, but she doesn’t know everything.”

“It’s okay. Only tell me what you want to tell me.”

She sighed. “It’s about a boy.”

“Oh, of course, it is. Of course, you’re in love with someone. Just my luck.” Chat closed his eyes and threw his head back. “I knew it. I shouldn’t have listened to Plagg.”

“What?”

“Sorry...never mind. Don’t worry about me. I was just thinking about something my Kwami said to me earlier. Oh, a Kwami is…”

“It’s okay! No need to explain. I know what a Kwami is. Remember, I was Multimouse.”

“That’s right! How could I forget? Please...continue.”

“I...um...okay. Well, there’s this boy who goes to my school, and I was in love with him. And it didn’t feel like the ‘butterflies in your stomach’ kind of love. No, it felt like the kind of love that I imagine the moon probably has for the sun. You know? Like...when he was around, everything was brighter, and now that he’s gone, the world feels dark and cold.”

“I see.” Marinette briefly saw Chat’s face fall before watching his eyebrows shoot up. “Wait...was? You mean you’re not in love with him anymore?”

“Maybe I am...or not...I don’t know. Actually, you know what? Yes, I am. I’m still in love with him. Ohmygod.” She felt her eyes grow wide.

“What is it?”

“I’ve never said those words out loud before. I’m still in love with him. It feels kind of good to finally admit that, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing is going to happen between the two of us anyway. It’s hopeless.”

“Is this the same boy who broke your heart before? Because if it is, then…”

“No! It’s not like that! I kept telling him that I only liked him as a friend. It’s kind of my fault that he got the wrong idea. However, I also blame the universe for all the failed attempts at trying to profess my love to him.”

“What kind of attempts did you make?”

“I tried to tell him hundreds of times. Let’s see...there was the Valentine I forgot to sign and the phone call that I messed up. I tried recruiting my friends to help me confess my love to him by using some convoluted plan involving codenames and flowers. Oh, and there was this one time when I wrote him a love letter and wound up giving him a different paper with something really embarrassing on it instead. I even made him a scarf for his birthday...just like the one I’m making now. I didn’t sign the card on that gift either.”

“I see. Is the scarf you’re making now for the same boy?”

She sighed. “No, there’s this other boy who kind of confessed his love for me. I would be lying if I said the thought of his words didn’t make my heart flutter; however, the more I try to see him as more than just a friend, the more something doesn’t feel right. Luka is wonderful, but I don’t think I’m in love with him.”

Chat’s whole face brightened. “So, it’s not Luka?”

“No, it’s…”

“Yes?”

“I just...um...when I first met him, I didn’t like him. You know Chloe? Of course, you know Chloe...she was Queen Bee. Well, I thought he was like her. They came from the same world, and they were childhood friends. Then, he gave me his umbrella when I forgot mine at home. I know it seems silly, but it was such a selfless gesture. He did it without hesitation. It’s as if doing stuff like that is just a part of who he is. Once I discovered his kindness, that was it for me. I was head over heels for him.”

Chat held up his hand. “Hold on. Did you just say that he gave you his umbrella?”

Marinette nodded. “Yes, it closed on my head after he handed it to me. We both laughed...oh, his laugh. His laugh is like listening to birds singing on a warm summer day.”

“Oh my God,” he whispered.

“Yeah, let’s just say that I’m really, really in love with him. Anyway, I bumbled around him for months. I could barely function, and I’m guessing that’s why all my attempts to confess fell flat. Still, no matter what I did, what I said, or how I messed up, he was always kind to me.”

Chat raked his fingers through his hair. “I can’t believe it.”

She threw her hands into the air. “Right? It’s crazy how amazing he is. Even though he’s rich and famous, his life is really hard. The more I got to know him, the more I began to understand that he’s this bright soul stuck in a dark cloud. He’s been through so much, yet he’s managed to stay a genuinely good person.”

“This is insane.”

“I haven’t even gotten to the best part of the story yet! Get this...a few months ago I saw him having fun with my friend Kagami, and I’m pretty sure he’s in love with her. So, I walked away and gave them the space they needed. I gave him up, Chat! I just want him to be happy. He deserves that.”

Chat looked up and met her gaze. “I...he does?”

Marinette let her expression fall. “He looks so sad sometimes, and it’s never when he’s with all of his friends. It’s when he thinks no one is looking. I’m glad he found Kagami, but I guess I just wish I could have been the person to make him happy.”

“What makes you think that you aren’t?”

“I’m not the girl he’s in love with.”

“How do you know that?”

“One time, I almost kissed him when he pretended to be a wax figure, and on the car ride home, he told me he was in love with a girl...and it obviously wasn’t me.”

Chat groaned and lowered his head. “I’m an idiot.”

Marinette paused. “What?”

“I’m sorry. My brain is going through a lot right now. What did I just say?”

“You said that you were an idiot.”

“Yeah, I mean, no...I MEAN...never mind.”

She reached up and felt his forehead. “Chat, are you okay? You feel a kind of warm, and you’re looking a little flushed.”

He put his hands on his cheeks. “I am? Huh? Can’t tell with the suit and all...uh...hey, so I have a question. You said that you made this boy a scarf? D-did the scarf ever get to him?”

“Yeah, it did, but he thinks that it’s from his dad.”

“Oh my...why...and...um...why didn’t you tell him it was from you?”

“You should have seen the smile on his face when he wore it to school. I’d never seen him look that way before. Like I said, I just want him to be happy.”

Marinette heard Chat’s breath hitch. “Princess, that’s amazing. You’re amazing. I...he...no one deserves you. My God...I can’t even believe this.”

“You are acting so weird right now.” She was starting to become very concerned about her partner’s wellbeing. “The way you’re looking at me right now kind of reminds me of how Adrien was looking at me earlier today. That’s what got me upset.”

“I...um...are you m-mad at...ohmygod you said ‘Adrien’.”

“Yeah, I did. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Chat’s voice sounded strained. “Yes, I’m listening. Please don’t stop. I...umm...you...are mad at him?”

Marinette shook her head vigorously. “No, I’m not mad at him. Quite the opposite. I’m actually mad at myself for letting all my feelings for him come back. Letting him go was so painful the first time, and I know I’m setting myself up for more heartbreak.”

“Holy...jeez...YOUR FEELINGS CAME BACK? Oh, God...I feel lightheaded. Do you feel lightheaded? It’s hot in here right?” he asked, fanning himself with his hands.

“Well, I don’t think they ever left. Chat, I don’t think you’re okay.”

“NO! I’m going to be FINE. There’s just a lot on my mind...ohmygod...how is this happening right now?”

Worry flooded Marinette’s brain as she watched Chat get off of the floor and pace around the room. He spent the next minute muttering to himself and gesticulating wildly. Marinette got up and tentatively walked over to him.

“Hey, Chat?” she asked gently, “How about you come and sit down on the chaise. I’ll go down to the kitchen and get you a glass of water.”

“No,” he said forcefully, “Jeez...sorry...I mean, no. I think I need to go home. I have to go home and...yeah. That.”

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to run across rooftops right now.”

“Actually, that may help me sort out all of this in my head.”

“What? Chat, no! Sit down, and let me take care of you!”

“Take care of me? How are you this wonderful?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt!”

He took her hands. “Princess, I hate to do this to you right now, but I have to go. You’ve given me a lot to think about. May you have dreams as wonderful as you are, and may your tomorrow hold nothing but happiness.”

Marinette could feel her heart pounding in her chest. “I...what?”

Chat lifted her hands and placed a light kiss on each one. He then ran up her ladder, opened the hatch and disappeared into the night.

“Tikki!” Marinette called, “Do you know what just happened?”

“Umm...you know what? How about we all get ready for bed?” the red Kwami suggested with a smile.

“You’re changing the subject.”

“Yes.”

“Can you at least tell me if he’s going to be okay? I am the Guardian, after all.”

“Chat Noir will be fine, but he’s going to have a long night.”

Marinette collapsed on her chaise. “It’s days like this where I wish I knew who he was. Then, I’d be able to check up on him.”

Tikki zipped over and sat on her lap. “You know that the Guardian usually knows all the Miraculous holders’ identities, right? It’s for that exact reason.”

“I don’t know. With Hawkmoth still around…”

“The choice is up to you now. However, after tonight, I have a strange feeling that this won’t be a problem for much longer.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Marinette asked, crossing her arms.

“Uhhh...goodnight!” Tikki zipped away.

“The other Kwamis would never treat me this way!”

“Sorry can’t hear you! I’m asleep.”

Marinette chuckled and shook her head. “Maybe Ladybug will be able to get some answers from him tomorrow.”

[cloakedandsoaked]

Celestial North

It was warmer than Dantalion was used to it being, when he visited this place. Barely below freezing, in fact, and the ice was thinner than he would have liked, though there were still several metres of it separating him from the sea below. A glance skyward showed he was as close as the stars could guide him. He would travel on foot from here, and rely on his other senses to find his destination. 

A few kilometres north, he stopped. The feeling of the entire earth spinning directly below him couldn’t be faked.

He cleared a circle some twenty metres across, and smoothed the surface down to a perfect sheen with a wave of his hand. Only the keenest of eyes could spot the reflection of the Cynosure and the surrounding sky, but Dantalion had keener eyes than most. The star declined farther away from the celestial pole than it had sometimes done in the past, but closer than usual. In fact, of the hundred or so times he’d made this journey, only a dozen saw the five-fold light of Polaris as the North Star at all.

When everything was prepared, the demon sat and rested for a moment.

He sipped from a verdigris can that could only be described as incongruent. He would need his strength, and tonight, strength came in the form of aspartame. Chilled fingers drew small loops on the ice.

<You're late.>

The voice caught him off guard. (The voice didn't catch him off guard.) 

The voice seemed even colder than he had expected, laced with a familiar irritation that he probably should have expected. (The voice was exactly as cold as he expected, and, indeed, could not have been otherwise.)

The voice spoke directly to his mind. (The voice, as is most apparent to us outside viewers, was from his mind.)

A figure appeared in the center of the circle, only a meter away, mirroring Dantalion's pose exactly.

Dantalion didn't allow his gaze to linger for long. "I'm sorry, Teacher. I was-- " He reached for a lie: I was tending my garden, and found his mind forcibly redirected to the truth: my library.

<As well as usual?>

"No."

<No.> There was no judgement in the agreement, merely a quiet acknowledgement. The figure tilted its head. <What are they like?>

Dantalion flinched. His forced hallucination was going off script; that was never a good sign. <~A dead tree's root system holds the earth together, and provides a home for many creatures.~> He sat his soft drink aside. <~Honeysuckle and lilac grow on the banks of the river. The waters rise again and again, but each year, the flowers return. The river becomes rerouted by a dam. // Fire, and fire, and fire. // A man follows a mirage in the desert, and finds water. // A copse houses many small creatures, but its resin burns at the cars parked below. // A dust devil. A meal tainted with ash. // A broken pane of glass. // An open cupboard reveals that the mementos within are now moth-eaten. Sour cherry candy, melted, blisters the skin it touches. // Rum burns in a throat and belly. Heirloom china is broken without a thought. // A hatchet strikes a wrought iron fence. Sparks fly. // A grain of wheat gives way beneath a mill. Bread comes later. // Fairy lights and grave dirt and blood and sugarcane. // A flame that appears small, but is really just far away. // A would-be martyr considers recanting.~> He paused, grimacing as he drew out the last image: <~A garden, scorched to the soil, is never replanted. In place of new life, a gift of honey is spilt upon the ground.~>

Is this good enough? It's not an excuse, but is it worthy? Two hundred thousand years, two deaths, and a very long reconstruction had failed to temper his desire to please, even as he tried to stifle the thoughts.

The other figure gave no answer, which Dantalion at least knew to take as a genuine lack of an answer. <Why are you here?>

Dantalion pondered the point for a moment, images flashing through his mind -- crisis, confusion, brokenness, despair -- and tried to find the trail that would lead to a true answer. <I think I broke something vital in me. I need to find out when and why and how, so I can fix it.>

<You noticed you were confused,> the other voice summarised, not incorrectly. 

Dantalion felt his mind suddenly enveloped as if in an embrace, and let himself be taken in whole. This was why he was here, uncomfortable though he knew it would be as his own recent memories began swirling around him like a smoothie in a blender, a trillion thoughts and feelings and sensations reeling about at incomprehensible speed. He knew better than to try and grasp at any individual one, as the disorientation would grow exponentially. Instead, he waited (minutes? surely it could not have been hours) for the spinning to slow to a comfortable twirl. At this speed, he could see the memories tinged with crisis almost as if they had a separate color filter laid upon them, instead of the color being smeared into the total. Spinning, spinning.... stop!

The whirling came to an abrupt stop, one memory focused in his mind: the first domino in the particular line of crises that currently held him hostage. Bingo. But unexpectedly (unexpectedly!), the spinning began anew, disallowing his mind to find purchase in the memory, disallowing any of the analysis he had come to this place expecting.

Another crisis memory presented itself. A pause. 

Again the spinning, again a pause.

Again.

Again.

Addled beyond all prediction, Dantalion grasped at each memory, striking out for purchase with the grip of his mind, only to be forcibly ripped away each time. Each furious pull was agonising, in a way the demon had never experienced pain before, not in his entire existence.

Again.

Again.

Suddenly the voice thrilled across the surface of his mind in a violent bellow. (He had never heard that voice bellow. Such a thing seemed anathema.)

<WHY ARE YOU HERE?>

Stunned, Dantalion skittered back from the other figure in the circle, bum never leaving the ice. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.

<Why are you here?> the voice repeated, still firm, but (blessedly!) no longer shouting.

The demon, now shaking as if from the cold, took a deep breath. "I notice that I am confused!" he spat. Somehow, repeating his part in the script forced the crest of terror in his gut to ebb into a thing closer to soft alarm. This was what he had come for, not whatever-the-fuck had just happened.

<Let us try again.> This time, the other mind grabbed Dantalion with all the subtlety of a typhoon, pulling him under and into the maelstrom of his own memories.

Gasping and flailing against the current, the demon took his next breath as the churning slowed once more, stopping at a very familiar memory. This time, the greenish tinge of crisis was minimal. Instead, the memory glowed golden with contentment: A folk-styled resort room in Finland, burrowed beneath a stack of blankets with someone he loved. Dantalion clung to the mirage as if to a life preserver, sucking in the warmth like a man's next breath.

He cried aloud when he was ripped from it and thrown into the chaos once more.

The next stop again featured a bed, this time a hospital bed with a lovely, if wan, redhead within. He was bent over her, and this time saw the scene from two impassioned directions. Then, before he could so much as react, he was flung back to spinning.

Again. A London flat.

Again. Magical hands in thick fur.

Golden memory after golden memory, each torn from his bleeding mental grasp like a toenail ripped from its bed by a particularly unforgiving kerb. His physical form sobbed, collapsing forward onto the ice in supplication. <Make it stop, Teacher!> But it did not stop, and the pain continued with each memory shredded from his consciousness.

Some two dozen memories in, he finally submitted, letting his mind be heaved and hurled every which way without resistance, taking only the shortest moment of solace in each pause before the disorientation began anew. Still, it did not stop; fond moment after fond moment found him, all within the past decade. Nor did the confusion cease, for each memory was followed by the careening press of time and rhythm and ways to live that interspersed the few moments of genuine joy he was allowed.

Surely, this time it had been hours when the spinning slowed to a final and complete stop, spitting Dantalion back into himself, a ruined spectre to inhabit the body lying prostrate on the ice. Sense was truly beyond him, now, and with it, speech; he was unaware of his own mental howling, a cant consisting only of why-why-why-why?

Only minutes, though, did it take for him to come back to himself. He grasped for the memories, making sure each was still in its designated place. Safe. They're safe. His mind was still its own. Wild confusion lit his eyes as he dared a glance up at the other figure, who was still sitting quite upright, quite unbothered, quite normal (as much as such a creature could be called 'normal' in the first place). Dantalion flinched when the voice arose once more:

<Why did you fight me so?>

Pain, again, and this time a pain of the heart. They were never meant to be opposed. Not in the beginning, when there were truly two of them, and certainly not now. Why are you here? The question echoed in Dantalion's mind, with no voice needed to call it forth. And then the pain was joined by shame.

"Is this the lesson, then, Teacher? Am I set against myself, a clinging, pathetic thing? No great crisis to undo the Great Duke Dantalion, merely the inability to let go of the past, good or ill?" It was a bit of an intuitive jump, accepting the horrible thing he had just experienced as an object lesson rather than a direct attempt at correction, but, well. They rather did know one another's language. "Have I come all this way to be merely kicked down the road like an empty tin can that doesn't know its place?"

Of course, he was allowed to be a touch bitter, if the mental construct he put so much effort into creating was allowed to torture him. Or so he reasoned.

<Let go,> the voice adjured, though it carried the weight of a command. Such things always did.

Dantalion pushed himself up, grabbed the can of soda which had emptied itself onto the ice in the fray, then stood and brushed the stray crystals from his clothing. He stared at the other for a long moment, heavy with spite and tenderness.

Then, in a blink, both figures were gone, and the circle held only Fresca and starlight.

[silver-fixation]

Beauty Queen Princess

CHAPTER ONE - “Hello doll.”

Rushing downstairs I grabbed my bag throwing it over my shoulder “I’m gonna be late I’ve got to get to school,” I yelled to my parents heading to the front door.

“Stay at the Gowther‘s this afternoon, we’ve got your fathers business dinner tonight,” my mother called stepping into the hallway. 

Turning around to her I smiled sarcastically “Of course I would hate to interrupt your lives with my existence,” I added a bow watching her put her earrings on.

“Thanks, sweetie,” she replied oblivious to what I said as she shifted to adjust her clothing.

My father came around the corner looking into the same mirror as my mother adjusting his suit “did you tell her she’s stayi-“

“Yes of course,” my mother cut him off before turning to him smoothing down his tie “you have this promotion in the bag.”

“With you on my arm,” he replied “you got plan b ready right?”

“Under this dress, you sure he likes this? Don’t want us to look stupid,” she said pulling the top on her dress down revealing a red lace bra. I almost heaved on the spot at the sight.

“Perfect, no man could resist,” my father replied pulling her close by the hips.

“Alright bye,” I yelled but it fell on deaf ears. Leaning my back against the front door I pushed against it, not being able to open the heavy door with my arms. Twisting around to the porch I froze seeing a man in a suit pulling off his glasses “oh hi.”

“Hello doll,” he responded tucking his sunglasses into his suit pocket.

Stepping back slightly I gripped the straps of my bag “uh hi,” I winced hearing the door slam behind me.

He didn’t even flinch at the sound as his eyes stayed fixed on my face “your Richards kid?”

“Kid? No,” I said crossing my arms across my chest “I’m a teenager, nearly adult.” Looking him up and down slightly I tilted my head at him “what are you doing here?”

Chuckling he stepped closer his eyes slowly trailing from my feet to my eyes “Adult business, you ain’t privy to the information, being so young.” With the last word I watched his tongue poke out to lick his lower lip.

“I’ve gotta go,” I said stepping past him. But, I got pulled back when a large warm hand grabbed my wrist “ow.”

“I wasn’t done talking to you doll,” he said in a low tone. His grip loosened but firm “We need to work on your manners-“

“Mr Morgan!” I heard my fathers voice call making my eyes snap to his “Emma, you should be heading to school, shouldn’t you?”

Looking back to the stranger I saw his eyes were still firmly on me “heading there now.”

“You drive?” He asked and I shook my head “take my driver.” My eyes widened darting to my fathers and then back to the strangers “I don’t take no for an answer, he’s parked out front.”

“I can’t-“ I started but he cut me off tightening his grip.

“I don’t take no for an answer,” he repeated in a low tone before leaning close to whisper in my ear “do what you’re told.”

Pulling back I saw a sly grin grow on his face as he let me go “remember the Gowther’s tonight, Emma,” my father said through a gritted tone “come in Mr Morgan, we can start the day with a breakfast spread and coffee!”

Turning away I rushed down the driveway and out our massive gate. Spotting a limo in the street in front of our yard, my head turned to look down the street. The way I usually walked. ‘Don’t get in strangers cars,’ I thought to myself turning to walk.

Before I had even made it a few steps a car horn beeped and the limo moved up to me “ma’am,” he called as the passenger window rolled down “I was instructed to give you a lift.”

Confused I stepped closer to the car “how? It took me two seconds to get here.” I watched as he held up a phone “oh,” I said tucking hair behind my ear.

“Make this easier for me and get in, please,” he said before putting the window up.

Huffing I walked to open the door and slid inside. It wasn’t my first time inside one as my parents had a limo nearly every week, however I never got to be in a moving one. Only sneaking a look before my parents left.

“Woah,” I looked around the inside at the plush seats and the crystal glasses. It was even fancier than the one my parents would have.

“Which school am I driving to?” He asked through the partition.

“Oh right,” I said before telling him my school address “if you could drop me off around the corner I’d really appreciate it.” I saw the nervous look he gave me through the mirror before putting the partition up.

I looked at the seats confused at the fact there weren’t any seatbelts ‘not very safe,’ I thought. Keeping my bag tight by my feet, I was scared I’d break something which my parents would have to replace for... Mr Morgan?

He was the definition of intimidating. Tall, lean and perfectly trimmed hair. It scared me when he grabbed my wrist but somehow it was comfortable? Maybe it was just how his amber eyes froze me on the spot. But he was nice enough to let his driver give me a lift, my parents don’t even do that. He must be a my fathers boss with the kiss ass tone my father layered welcoming him.

Feeling the car come to a stop the partition rolled down again “we’re here, around the corner.”

Jumping out I softly shut the door before heading to the drivers window. He rolled it down and looked at me confused “Uh I do t have much,” I mumbled pulling a ten dollar note from my wallet “but thank you.”

He stared at the note in my hand with a raised brow “I get paid by Mr Morgan.”

“Oh,” I murmured nervously “I thought you’re suppose to tip?”

He shook his heard with a low chuckle “uh, that’s about a tenth of a small tip honey, spend it on your lunch,” with that he put his window up.

I stepped back into the grass watching him drive off. “What a way to start the day,” I mumbled before looking around nervously hoping no one from my school saw me get out of a limo.

Although my parents have money, they’re fickle when it comes to spending on me. I didn’t want anyone thinking I had any money, my parents do, but my bank doesn’t link up with theirs.

———

Heading home I tightened my bag straps spotting a familiar black limo sitting where I was dropped off.

“The fuck, who at our school has a limo,” My friend, Alexis Gowther, said next to me bumping me with her elbow.

Staring nervously I scanned the number plate knowing it’s the same “yeah, how weird.”

We both keep walking, Alexis, keeps staring at the tinted windows while I keep my head straight ahead. Before we could fully pass it I heard the limo door open “Emma,” I heard the drivers voice call.

I almost turned but I kept my head straight while Alexis nudged me “dude, he said your name and is staring.”

“Keep walking,” I murmured grabbing her arm and pulling her with me.

I could feel her eyes glaring into the side of my head as we kept walking “You have some explaining to do.”

“Let’s just get to yours,” I said glancing over my shoulder to see the limo trying to do a U-turn. “Run,” I murmured taking off in a sprint towards her house.

“Physical exercise too?” She yelled keeping up with me “you owe me.”

——

Easily closing Alexis’s front door we leaned against the wall opposite each other “You have explaining to do.”

“It’s really short and boring,” I mumbled back trying to catch my breath.

“You still going to talk,” she said pulling out her water bottle chucking it to me.

Taking a large sip I let out a sigh of relief “a guy was at my front door this morning, works with my parents, let me go to school in his limo.”

“Your parents co-worker? You know the guy?” I shook my head “number one, what your parents do again? number two, how do you not know the guy and he gives a lift in a limo? And three, why did we run when we could of got a lift in a limo?”

Letting out a small laugh at the last part I passed back her bottle “my parents work in hotel management, I only met him this morning and he was-“ I paused biting my lower lip “nice. Number three, the driver was rude to me and you don’t want some random guy knowing where you live. Do you?”

She shook her head “not really, but damn your parents got generous co-workers.” She stood up holding a hand out to me “shall we go make slushies?”

“Yes please!” I cried letting her tug me up “can I make strawberry?”

She gave me a shrewd look “you think I was going to let you touch my blueberry blast, no way. I don’t like you that much.”

When we reached the kitchen I jumped up on the bench and watched her pull out the ice and blender.

“What was he like?” She asked pulling out the flavour syrups “your parents friend.”

Looking at my shoes I thought back to the smirking business man that was ‘Negan,’ odd name but blame the parents not the child. “Tall and intimidating. Could probably do a good interpretation of the Cheshire Cat with the smile he had.”

“I thought you only met him quickly?” She asked dropping a bunch of ice and flavour into the blender next to me.

“Yeah, but if you saw his smile,” I let out a chuckle “you’d understand. Though he was a bit oddly demanding for someone I just met.”

“Demanding?” She asked with a raised brow. Before I could answer her there was a knock at the front door “hold that, I’ll get the door,” she put the lid on the blender turning it on making the ice crunch loudly.

Swinging my legs I waited for her to come back, the blender too loud for me to hear who she was talking to at the door. Staring at my dirty shoes I clicked them together to pass the time.

What I didn’t expect was to then see two shinny black shoes appear in front of me. I looked up to see Negan with a smirk on his face. My eyes were glued to his as he reached next to me turning off the blender “We have an issue doll,” he said making me tense up “you not only said no to me twice this morning, but when I turn up to give you a lift. You took off running making me have to find out where your little friend lives, now I really don’t like that.”

I stared at him nervously before glancing to the doorway, debating if I could run to Alexis fast enough. I haven’t know the guy for a day and he’s insulted enough to follow me to my friends, that’s the switch for stranger danger.

Before I could push myself off the counter two hands slammed next to my legs “Don’t fucking think about it,” he said in a low dangerous tone. “Now tell me why that pretty little brain of yours, thinks you say no to me?”

[starrybbarnes]

into the heat [b.b]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: it’s taco tuesday. you make some salsa. your friends can’t hang, and apparently, neither can your boyfriend.

Word Count: 1473

Author’s note: I had some tacos on sunday and my god, la salsa verde was to d i e for. it was so good, I swear. I’m just salivating at the thought of tacos and green salsa, with some lime on top. I think I might buy some for work later today. as always, feedback is appreciated!

Warnings: definitely some swearing, food mention so don’t read while on an empty stomach 

It was a normal Tuesday afternoon back at the compound. It was lunchtime and it meant only one thing: Taco Tuesday.

The team has done taco Tuesday before you came on board, but it would just consist of Stark buying 2 boxes of the Taco Bell party pack and would call it a day. It was a disgrace. 

You remember the first time you joined the Avengers for taco Tuesday. You were deceived when Thor said, “it’s the best Midguardian food I’ve ever tasted.” 

Oh, how you missed eating your grilled serrano pepper that day. 

You remembered you offered to make some street tacos about a month later, and boy, did everyone’s mind explode. Savory meats, fresh limones, and decadent salsas would line the kitchen table every time on Tuesday. The Avengers would have more than seconds almost every week. 

Not only that but with your cooking (in general), you won your way through a super soldier’s heart. “It’s the easiest way to trap a man,” Natasha would joke around with you.

You have been dating Bucky for over a year now, and he’s wedged himself in helping you during taco Tuesdays. Whether it be chopping the cilantro and onions, heating up las tortillas, or going to the farmers market early in the morning, Bucky enjoyed that time with you.

There were only two things, however, that your Bucky wouldn’t touch on Taco Tuesdays. That was the meat preparation and salsa making. Sure, Bucky would choose the cuts of meat and the freshest peppers and cilantro, but when it came down to actually cooking it, it was none of his business.

“I simply cannot trust a white man to season their food,” you simply said over the table one time. 

“But you’ve seen me add actual seasoning and flavors to other dishes?” Bucky argued. 

“Bucky please,” you interjected, “my trust has been severed ever since that Niall celebrity didn’t season his chicken. An absolute catastrophe.” 

Since then, no one has argued on that topic. It was a part of the routine that you called yours. 

When it came to the nitty-gritty, everyone seemed to enjoy the fact that you’d make a savory taco, with some mild but delicious salsas. 

However, the one dish you missed making was your signature spicy avocado salsa. Since no one in this compound can handle the flavor, you’d always send Bucky to go to the nearest taco truck and ask for a small serving of it to take home to you. You’d always remember to tip the workers for all that they do, and you’ve actually exchanged recipes. 

Today, you decided to make your favorite salsa. 

It was 12 noon, and you knew Bucky was well underway getting the ingredients for the tacos. You called him and let him know to add avocados, fresh jalapeños, and some green husk tomatoes. You also mentioned to not bring any avocado salsa today, but to pay the truck a visit.

“Uh, Y/N?” Bucky started, “are you not gonna have salsa with your tacos?”

“I am,” you slowly said, “but I’m kinda wanting to have some more kick in my life.”

“All you had to do was ask, doll,” Bucky chuckled through the phone.

“Oh no, Buck,” you laughed, “We’re talking me crying while eating a taco typa kick.”

“Just don’t kill anyone, okay?” Bucky replied, half-joking, half actually being serious.

“No promises,” you sang.

。。

Smells of meat and cilantro swirled the kitchen and made its way into the common room, signaling that food was almost ready. Bucky was helping you chop up the meat while you were heating up tortillas on the comal. 

One by one, the team started filing into the dining area, words of praises and absolute delight that their favorite day of the week has finally arrived. 

You set the garnishes and red and green on the main table. From the fridge, you pulled out a bowl of the almost neon green substance and placed it on the table. 

The avocado salsa. 

The team ooo’ed at how bright green the salsa was as if giving off a warning. 

“Whoa!” an eager Sam yelled in amazing, “the food looks amazing! I’m really banking on the fact that you made the food instead of ol’ Chef Boyardee over here” 

You started giggling as Bucky attempted to throw a piece of meat at Sam, only for him to catch it in his mouth. 

“Well, he was a big help, but rest assured, Sam I was in charge of the cooking,” you replied as everyone started serving themselves.

Once everyone was seated, people dug in, only the sounds of content would be heard. You grabbed your bowl of avocado salsa and put a helping on each taco that was on your plate. 

Sam saw what you were doing and spoke up, “what is that green stuff, Y/N? It smells really good and looks amazing.”

You hesitated a bit before you answered, “it’s guacamole. I know it doesn’t look like your standard one, but that’s because I added some extra stuff.” 

Sam signaled for the bowl and you passed it over to him. Seeing you eat the tacos with ease, he decided to put even more salsa on his helping of tacos. You eyed him carefully, awaiting a reaction.

“Wow!” Sam exclaimed, “This is so good! I think I’ll eat spoonfuls of this stuff!”

You were about to feel left down when you saw it happening. Sam started coughing profusely and started sticking out his tongue. He started signaling for water and when you handed him the large cup, he downed it in 5 seconds flat.

“What in the fuck is in the god damn guac!” Sam hollered. “I think I am about to pass out.”

“Not much really,” you stated, “some lime juice, avocado, green tomatoes, 2 jalapeños, maybe half a serrano paper?”

“Two??” Sam yelled, “do you want me to DIE?”

“Sam,” you started, “I think you’re overreacting.”

“Your tacos were practically bathing in the salsa,” Sam argued.

“Psh, it can’t be that bad,” Thor commented.

“Would you like to try some, Thor?” you offered sweetly. 

Now everyone was looking at Thor. Slowly, he gulped and poured some on a taco. As he ate it, he did the same reaction as Sam. Absolute delight, and then his life flashing before his eyes.

Before long everyone tried to get their hands on the salsa. Steve stopped everyone and said, “I think as super soldiers, Bucky and I should try it out. Maybe Sam is overreacting.”

When Bucky heard his name, he choked on his drink. “No way man. You know I don’t mess with m’girls food.”

“Oh lighten up,” Steve assured him, “We probably won’t feel a thing.”

You snickered. You knew for a fact that Steve would start tearing up at just eating Hot Cheetos. 

Bucky looked at you with his puppy eyes. He was trying to get out of it, and fast. He saw you when you added the peppers into the blender. Even the times he’s seen you eat raw peppers, it freaked him out that you’d never elicit a reaction. 

“C’mon sweetheart,” you pouted, “just one bite. I swear it’s not spicy.” 

Bucky sighed and put a helping of salsa on his taco, Steve trying so hard to put the same amount if not less.

They saluted each other and bit into their taco. Bucky actually finished the whole thing, triumphant smile now apparent. Steve slowly finished his and sighed in relief.

“Well ya look at that,” Bucky laughed, “Looks like I still am a super-soldier.”

“Give it a minute.” 

Steve was the first to start coughing. “Oh my god, my mouth is on FIRE!” 

Bucky soon after followed, eyes welling up and his sinuses going haywire. Steve actually started crying, just repeating ‘so spicy’ over and over again.

“Doll, if I die right here, just know that I love you very much,” Bucky cried out. 

You handed Bucky a slice of bread, “eat this, you’ll live.”

The team concluded that you were a goddess amongst them because apparently, you can’t feel the heat. 

You rubbed Bucky’s back as he slowly started to feel better.

“I just don’t get it,” you sighed, “this stuff tastes really good. And I only put a little bit this time!”

Bucky just groaned in response, “well, this is one thing I won’t be stealing from the fridge.” 

“Then maybe, just maybe, my planned worked,” you joked, earning a smile from Bucky.

You kissed him on the lips and then scowled, “Jesus, Buck even your lips are on fire!”

“What can I say, I’m attracted to heat,” Bucky answered, panting ever so slightly.

“Maybe one of these days, you’ll be able to handle it,” you joked, eating one more of your man-catching tacos doused in your salsa. 

。。

i made myself hungry just writing this bahaha

translations:

Limones = lemons

comal = skillet/griddle

[mcu-owns-my-ass]

Dark

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word count: 2.9 k

Summary: Bucky and reader are hydra prisoners, but maybe they’ll find a way out

Warnings: Mentions of torture (Kind of), language (I can’t write without cursing apparently) ANGST

A/N: I wrote this for @fangirlfiction and @phoenixwintersolo #angstember challenge, @noshitstark writing challenge and @bucky-at-bedtime marvellous writing challenge. I am so so so incredibly sorry to be so late with this, I am a mess (and so is my fic but I tried). My prompts were: “You can’t do this to me”, “I’ll do it for you. I’ll do anything for you” and “Stay close to people that feel like sunlight). Thank you so much to Lila, Nikki and Jess for letting me be a part of their challenges and special thanks to @danyofwesteros and @its-a-pretty-interesting-wall for beta reading this for me! 

The yellow lights and the whirring noises of the machinery in the room were overwhelming.

You could barely focus your sight, which was adjusting glacially slow to the bright lights after months in the dark.

You wanted to collapse, vomit or maybe just die right there. You knew it was a matter of time before your legs gave way to the heaviness you felt.

If it weren’t for the arm of a man in a lab coat that held you steady, you’d had fallen already.

“Do it,” The man screamed, forcefully pushing you to stand near a chair where someone sat, bound and gagged.

Your brain was sluggish, and you opened and closed your eyes a few times trying to focus your eyes on the person on the chair, still not fully comprehending the situation.

“No,” You managed in a croaky voice

Another shove sent you tumbling and you grabbed on to the chair in order not to fall face first on the cold white floor.

You were inches from him, and now you could see clear enough.

“Bucky,” You mumbled, struggling to contain the nausea. You hadn’t seen him in years, not since the time they made you put the words in his head. His blue eyes beamed in recognition for the smallest of seconds, and you felt his hand seize yours with a steely grip. He didn’t answer but you felt how he slipped something into your hand. He stared at you, an anguish ridden glance, and you know what it meant.

Next thing you felt was a heavy blow to the head, and then it all went black.

The dripping sound of a leaking faucet wakes you, and this time the room is dark. You’re thankful for that. Your brain feels like it’s been through a blender.

You lift yourself from the ground and struggle to sit against the cold damp wall of the cell. Your wrist is bruised by the single handcuff they use to contain your powers. Dim light filters through the barred window in the door, and some muffled voices reach your ears.

“She’s not strong enough. You saw what happened this morning”

“Then wipe her. Let’s start clean. Wipe him too, while you’re at it. They’re recognizing each other again”

“Every time we do it, it takes her longer to learn to contain her power. I lost two people last time”

“Doesn’t matter. We have the machine now, thanks to her. And she’s becoming harder to manage. I’ve got half a mind to just … terminate her. If only we didn’t need her...”

“Please, don’t do that. She’s fascinating, scientifically… The first human being able to manipulate minds... Imagine if we could replicate it in other humans…”

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t care. Just deal with it.”

The words echoed in your brain like fireworks and your memory started to function again.

This morning

Your mind runs a play by play of the scene and it dawns on you suddenly.

You look at your closed fist, and when you open it you find a shard of metal, sharp and cold.

Bucky.

You trail off, remembering when you met him, so many years ago.

This talent of yours, it came at a price. They lure you under the pretense of science and research, and a hefty chunk of money, which sounds amazing for a broke college student. If only you had known… It was all very civilized, until he came along. Until the tests weren’t on you, but on him and others, and you stop cooperating.

Then they throw you in a cell. Cold and damp all the time, but at least you’re not alone. Or so you thought, but it would probably had been the same. He never talks, never moves, never does anything. Just sits there until they take him away for awhile and eventually throw him back in.

It’s strange at first but then you stop caring if he hears you or not, because the silence is deafening and you have to say something, even if to remember that you actually exist. So you talk, and talk and talk. You tell him the unprompted story of your miserable life, and how you came to be property of hydra.

Sometimes you just mumble nonsense, until your voice is hoarse.

Sometimes you sing whatever tune you remember from better days. Anything to drown the silence.

“How long have you been here?” You ask him once. Time moves different in the darkness, and you have already lost count of your own time there. Probably months.

His head hangs low, as always, but you’re not really expecting an answer, because he hasn’t uttered a word in all the time you’ve been locked together.

“What year is it?” He whispers

It surprises you, but you search your brain for the answer.

“1991. At least that’s what I remember”

He says nothing for a while, just grabs his head between his hands, trying to remember something.

“Four...almost five…”

Your eyes grow wide “five years?” You ask, astonished.

“Decades. Four, almost five decades”

Your mouth flies open in disbelief. You can’t fathom 5 years in this hell hole. But 5 decades…

You’re not sure why but you feel the unstoppable need to hug him, so you do. He jerks a little at the contact at first, but then he melts into it.

Then you cry, for him and for you and because you haven’t cried in so long that the first tear releases a flood. He cries with you, until you’re both out of tears, and he’s not the first to let go.

It all changes after that day.

He tells you the story of how he lost his arm, how hydra captured him. His name is Bucky. He had a friend named Steve. He was in WWII. However little he remembers from his past, he tells you.

Some nights you sleep next to each other, when the cold gets to be too much, and you wake up with his flesh arm around you. It feels nice, like a ray of sunlight in the darkness, and you never want to let go.

It’s never more, never less. Friendship seems a strange word for what you are. But it’s the closest.

Sometimes he asks you to sing for him, all the silly tunes you sang on those first weeks, and you comply. Misery seems more bearable when it’s shared.

Occasionally, when the nights are darkest, he’ll whisper in your ear “If we make it out of here, will you help me forget?”

Your heart shrinks at his words because you know what they mean, but your answer is always the same “I’ll do it for you. I’ll do anything for you”

Then he holds you tighter and you hope he never lets go.

Until one day they take him, and he doesn’t comeback. And then shortly after, they come for you.

Your next meeting is less than pleasant.

--------

You hear footsteps approaching and they rip you from your memories. Then the latch on the door whirs as it unlocks. A tall man enters the room, the same guy from this morning, dressed in black pants and a pristine white coat.

“Feeling better?” He asks with a mocking grin as he kneels in front of you until you’re to eye level.

“Fuck you,” You spit in his face, and he’s less than pleased, but otherwise non-reactive. He moves to produce a paper tissue from his pocket and you know it’s now or never.

Your hand flies in front of his face, and before he can even process what’s happening, the shard of metal is sinking into the thin skin of his neck. His eyes widen in confusion, and his blood spatters across your face, and his next words drown in his throat with his dying breath.

Adrenaline kicks in and you pry the key of the cells from the dead guy’s hand. In a matter of seconds you’re out of the cell and running the halls like a mad person. You count the cells until you get to his.

He sits on the same chair, and someone it’s next to him but they have their back to the door.

An alarm starts blaring the second his eyes meet yours, but he wastes no time. The restraints around his arms are no match for his super soldier strength and his metallic arm.

You’re in a frenzy trying to kick open the locked door, and you hear rushed footsteps coming your way. You have seconds, and the adrenaline kicks again.

Inside the room Bucky’s fighting someone but the fight doesn't last long and finally he’s there, one locked door away from you.

Then you remember: You have the keys.

You fumble with them and try a couple of them until the right one opens the door.

You can already see the armed guards coming your way from one end of the hallway, and it’s like you’re glued to the floor, panic setting in your confused eyes.

The super soldier grabs your hand and pulls you out of the stupor. You run with him through the maze of hallways that is the Hydra base.

He stops for a second forcing you to stop with him. He looks at you, like he’s trying to figure something out but can’t. Whatever is going through his mind remains a mystery and then with a flick of his metal hand he releases your wrist from the handcuff designed to contain you.

He grabs your arm again, softly this time and guides you. You hope to god that he knows the way out of this place.

As soon as you turn the next hallway there’s already armed guards waiting for you and you stop dead on your tracks. The soldier tries pulling you but you’re frozen again in fear. This is the closest you’ve ever gotten to escaping. And now it’s over.

However, he’s not willing to go down without fighting and he takes on the 4 guys that are coming at you. You’ve seen him in action before but this is surreal. There are limbs flying about, and it’s a miracle how in a couple of seconds he already has 2 of the guards down on the floor.

You watch him, eyes wide in awe. But finally a bullet catches his shoulder and it’s like a bucket of cold water just fell on top of you.

And you remember. You can help him.

You close your eyes, and concentrate, and it hurts, it’s horrible, but it works.

“STOP!”

Your scream is loud and firm and the second you utter it, the remaining two guards stop, vacant eyes and drooling faces.

You both stare at each other for a moment, and then you run to catch up to him. You encounter a couple more guards on your way out but they’re no match to you and the soldier. The sound of the alarms is deafening to the point where you can barely hear your own thoughts, but it doesn’t matter because you can see the exit.

He reaches the door first and the night air hits you in the face as he opens the heavy door to a patch of woods. But you don’t have time to stop since now you have the whole of hydra breathing down your neck. You hear gunshots and in a trembling second you take his hand and run, run, run into the woods.

He manages much better in the terrain, and you haven’t even seen the outside in years, but somehow manage to keep up with him by will alone.

Neither of you stop even for a breath for a long time. Fortunately, everytime you dare to look back, the flashlights of the people looking for you seem farther and farther.

Then it dies down, the adrenaline rush is over and your body is screaming for a break.

“Bucky,” you say in between shortened breaths, leaning your arm on a tree for support.

He stops and looks at you, not even a drop of sweat on him.

“You keep calling me that. And so did the man on the bridge,” He trails off and his eyes get lost in the void of night.

“What?” you squint at him

“Who the hell is Bucky?” He asks

“You don’t remember,” You sigh, biting your lip, “Wait… If you don’t remember...Why did you help me? You could have made a run for it without me”

“I don’t know. I just felt like I should. Like I knew you”

He looks at you as if you hold all the answers. You take a cautious step towards him, and you go to touch his cheek, but he takes a step back.

“I don’t want to hurt you… I can help you remember,” You say, and your lips curl in a small smile, more sad than anything.

He doesn’t move and you take it as an ok to get closer. Maybe the face was too intimate, so instead you take his hand on yours, and he flinches a bit but he doesn’t step away this time.

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. You can feel something leaving you and going through him.

He feels it too, warm and soft, washing over him and making him somewhat whole again, slowly filling the empty spaces inside his brain, layers upon layers of memories, good and bad.

The cold reaches your bones for the first time that night and you know it’s done, so you let go of him.

“That’s all I have. I can only give you back what they made me take. But I’m sure there’s more,”

The change inside of him is evident, and his steel blue eyes no longer look lost, but crystalline and bright.

This time he’s the one closing the distance between the two of you. How could he forget you? And yet, he knows you’re the one to blame. But he also knows it’s not your fault, because he has done awful things too, none of them willing.

You’re not sure if he’s going to attack you or not, but he’s near and you want to be near again so you don’t move, and suddenly he’s enveloping you in his strong arms, hugging you so tight that you can feel your own heartbeat pouncing on his shirt. You hug him back and it’s everything you remember, wholehearted and pleasant like a blanket on a rainy day.

You cry and laugh and so does he, grabbing your face in his hands and looking at you as if it were the first time. He looks tired and sad and incredibly handsome under the pale moonlight, so your brain chooses to disregard the precarious nature of your current situation, and before you know it, you’re crashing your lips on his.

His eyes widen in surprise for a moment but almost instantaneously he’s kissing you back. He tastes sweet and salty, and the kiss is full, intense like a storm and almost as violent.

Then it all comes crashing down. There’s gunshots coming from every other direction, and one buries in your in leg. Rushed footsteps sound between the trees, and you know they’re close.

There’s no pain, only a burning feeling in your leg, and the familiar sensation of blood running down your thigh.

He looks at you in confusion and he understands in a second. He grabs you by the arm again, and you move to start running beside him but the second your leg takes a step, it crumbles in itself, and you fall to the leaf covered ground. You’re not gonna make it, but he might, if he runs

“RUN!” You scream at him

“No. I won’t without you,” He found you again. He’s determined not to lose you. So he kneels beside you and tries to lift you but you can’t stand. The initial shock is wearing off and it’s rising into mind shattering pain.

“You have to,” You mumble, and you know what has to happen next, “Come back for me. If you can,”

“No. Don’t! You can’t do this to me!” He screams in despair but there’s no other way

“I am so sorry,” you say as a single tear escapes your struggling eyes

“Don’t d-”

But he never finishes his sentence, because your hand is already in his shoulder, and you don’t even need words anymore. You can feel his memory dissolving between your fingers, like butter. It won’t last long, just a few hours. Just until you can lead them away from him, and he’s far away from this place.

“Run,” You whisper in his ear, “Find the man on the bridge”

You see his eyes go blank and you hate yourself for what you did. But there was no other way. And your heart it’s breaking into a million pieces,

You struggle but find footing and you limp as far away from him as you can, purposefully making noise that will alert hydra of your position. It’s you who they want after all. They have more winter soldiers. But only one of you.

You look back and you can see the reflection of a metal arm running in the distance, until he’s out of sight, and you know it’s time.

“I’m here assholes,” You whimper.

With a heavy thud you let yourself fall to the ground again. They’re looming over you, and soon enough you’ll be a prisoner again. But at least he’s safe now.

[plague-doctor-jules]

Sleepless nights: A Julian x Neville fanfiction

((Disclaimer: I only own my interpretation of The Arcana’s Julian. Neville, Vicky, Diantho and the interpretation of The Arcana’s Valdemar belong to @gdrawsthings​ and Omaira to @halfblooddragonghost​))

The witching hours in the city of Vesuvia was usually the quitest part of the day. The absolute quietness was only disturbed by the occasional owl cries, the howls of some lonely dog or erotic sighs of some couples in love that had forgotten to close their bedroom windows. Otherwise, the starlit hour of the poets and hopeless romantics was crowned by silence and the white noise of crickets and waves brushing against the docs. Yet, despite the heavenly peace, for the fourth time this week, Neville woke up in the middle of the night at the sound of pacing onto the wooden floor and shallow breathing. And for the fourth time, he was met by a cold bed and ruffled sheets where his lover should be lying. The opera singer sighed and shifted his weight on the matress, tiredly rubbing his eyes.

Why does he insist on suffering alone and pretending all is well afterwards?

Granted, Neville was one to appreciate discreetness more than most people. His whole upbringing was based on the idea of building one’s image like wearing a mask: be good, polite and efficient, and whatever happens behind the facade is noone’s business. Yes, his people really valued the privacy of their emotions and weaknesses. That was why they all ended up miserable and died at the mental asylum. That was why he was the family’s scapegoat.

And after all... he wasn’t just “noone” to the other man... was he?

He still remembered the night he met him. How could he forget that performance of La Boheme; the tenacity of Rodolfo’s affection being completely overshadowed by that ethereal vision of a man sitting at the last rows of the amphitheatre; auburn curls, voluptuous lips, skin so white that it was almost transluscent, and these silver, watery eyes that looked as if moonlight was pooling into them and gazed right into his emerald ones, like they were peering into his very soul... If anyone asked him how he found himself off the stage and kneeling in front of him singing the “O soave fanciulla” aria as if he was singing it for him and him alone, having abandoned his co-star, he would be unable to answer. Everything else had blurred into nothingness; what mattered was only the here and now, him and himself captured in a moment of poetry. “Oh, sweetest vision with moonlight bathing your pretty face! The dream that I see in you is the dream I'll always dream!” Neville sang with all his soul, and the spirit of the night sang with him.

But as all beautiful things do, the magic of the song ended too soon to his liking, and the brittle awkward silence of the audience was soon shattered by a roar of applause. With the corner of his eye he spotted the soprano widen her eyes in disbelief and storming off the stage with an angry huff. Yet, in the glory of the moment, the opera singer could only take the other’s gloved hand into his and press a gentle kiss onto it, never taking his eyes off the burgundy color that had spread on the redhead’s cheeks. His gaze lowered to the slightly parted lips for a tempting moment before it met the silver eyes once more, only to see a tempest of emotions one overpowering the other: bewilderment, shock, longing and finally terror.

Immediately, the pale man withdrew his hand from his as if it scorched him and sprang out of his seat, running towards the exit, as if he was being chased by all the demons of hell.

“Wait!” the singer called out and ran after him, leaving the now murmuring in confusion audience behind. Even if he were aware of the massive scandal that would result from that eventful night, Neville couldn’t care less. Instead he kept running, yet the other was too fast and agile. Soon, he was out of sight.

Neville huffed, cursing himself under his breath. Now that he thought of it, how foolishly spontaneous his behavior was! He knew nothing of the other man, he might have offended him for all he knew. Perhaps he was already with someone, or was just freaked out that he was courted in that fashion in front of so many people. Perhaps-

A familiar white linen shirt caught Neville’s attention effectively stopping his inner monologue, and his heart skipped a beat when he turned to see no other than the man from earlier having leaned over the railing of the docs, peering down at the dark waters. The sea breeze brushed through his hair and made his dark coat -wait, was that a military doctor coat?- flutter along with the hem of his shirt, spreading the smell of musk, leather and coffee; though the tremors of his shoulders were not because of it. As Neville slowly approached, he could make out the small sobs that escaped him and the tears that were running down his face, to drip into the angry waters below. He hadn’t noticed him. Hesitantly, Neville touched his shoulder. The red haired man did not look surprized to see who was there, and finding no resistance, Neville passed his arm around the slender shoulders and held him close. He shuddered, but did not go away, and after a while he relaxed a little, leaning his head onto the small of Neville’s neck. “Why are you doing this?” he whispered, with his eyes closed.

“Nothing in this world happens in vain, and the soul holds secrets the logic would never understand. There are lost lives lingering between the pages of the world and when a soul finds its kindred one it  cries as it remembers its past happiness. Whatever they are made of, yours and mine are one.” Neville whispered back, carefully caressing the auburn tresses.

The teary silver eyes raised to meet his in awe and melancholy. “ That’s Emily Bronte... but...I... don’t understand...” he muttered.

“Neither do I. Nor we should.” Neville replied softly. “What is your name?”

“Julian.”

The weak light of a solitary candle was casting long shadows onto the walls of the small kitchen. Although it was not visible from where Neville was currenty standing, he knew that Julian had stopped his pacing and was now sitting at the table, head in his arms. Without looking, he reached out to his newly filled mug of coffee, but another hand reached out to it too, covering it like a lid and stopping him.

“’Tis too late to be having this sort of beverage, darling.” Neville muttered lovingly before wrapping his arms around Julian’s waist an planting a soft kiss on his neck. Julian smiled at that, instinctively leaning into his lover’s embrace. “My angel of music... What time is it?” he purred back.

“Too late to be about. Come back to bed. It feels empty without you in it...” Neville replied, punctuating his statement with a small nibble on Julian’s neck to ensure he wouldn’t protest. “Bad dream?”

Julian’s expression became crestfallen without bothering to word his answer. “I woke you up.” It wasn’t a question. “I have been waking you up in the middle of the night for days now. Haven’t I?”

“That doesn’t answer the question, Ilya.” Neville pointed out and drew a chair to sit next to him. “I know that something has been troubling your sleep as of late; you jump out of bed panicked and start pacing around for hours. I want to know who or what to blame for it. Is it the war? Your time with the pirates? Or is it Valdemar, that creepy boss of yours?”

Julian nodded, defeated. “About a week ago they... they put someone’s arm into a blender just to take a cool x-ray... I just... cannot unsee what I saw. I can still hear the screams in my head.”

Neville’s eyes went wide with disbelief, horror and annoyance. “They did whAt now?! Are you bloody kidding me?! A blender?!” He grabbed Julian by his shoulders and pulled him into his arms, wrapping them protectively around him. “Julian, love... You can quit, you know. That person is clearly a sick sadist and a sociopath. I don’t want you to go mad because of him. I wonder how that sweet girl Vicky can handle them... and don’t even get me started on how baby Diantho will turn out to be...”

“Not if I am the one babysitting her... But I understand what you mean. At times like this I think about it too.” Julian’s voice was muffled by the material of Neville’s velvety robe. “But still... I do not want to resign. Even though I find myself hating Valdemar’s guts at times... they are the best doctor I have ever met. If it weren’t for them I wouldn’t be half the doctor I am now; they’ve taught me so many things. Then... I have no issues getting along with my colleagues; Vicky, Omaira and the others... And in this failing economy it wouldn’t be wise to find myself unemployed or working at the legal grey zones. Not when for the first time in my life I want stability and happiness...” Julian cupped Neville’s cheek tenderly and leaned in to kiss his lips softly. “Not when I have found you...”

Neville couldn’t help but blush and pulled the doctor in, crushing their lips together in a needy kiss. “You are the best thing that happened to me, in all these years of misfortune and misery...” Julian managed, when they parted for air, earning him a chuckle and a series of soft neck kisses.

“At least let me tell him off for making your life unbearable... Someone has to... They can’t keep terrorize you like that.” Neville purred, lifting his lover’s thin frame into his arms and carrying him to bed.

“Oh, my prince with his shiny armor...” julian chuckled between kisses. “Well, you can try, I suppose, but don’t expect that there will be much difference. It’s not their fault, really. That’s simply who they are.”

“Well, we don’t know that unless I try. Don’t underestimate my powers of persuasion, my darling angel of death...” Neville snickered mischieviously before pinning Julian’s arms above his head and seductively pull the half-opened shirt down his shoulders using his teeth. Julian bit down his lip to suppress a moan and his eyes fluttered closed. “I would never~”

((I am sorry if this fic seems too hastily written; i am obsessed since I found out about Neville’s character and I had to get all this inspiration out of my system. Dedicated to @gdrawsthings​, @halfblooddragonghost​ and @plaguehostwiththemost​.

P.S: Here is the x-ray Julian is talking about. It isn’t a blender; it is a meat grinder that did this. Close enough, I say. If gore triggers you, please do not open the “keep reading” link

[redditnosleep]

Has Anyone Else Seen This Strange Infomercial?

by crystakat. Warning for child abuse.

February 11th

Let me tell you the secret of the century: being a single parent is hard. Yeah, of course it’s worth it and all, but I’m not sure how anyone does this for eighteen years. Shift at the hospital, hurry home and check on Tommy, four hours of shut-eye tops, then another eight hours working retail, rinse and repeat. It’s awesome.

With a schedule that tight, you think I’d froth at the mouth for the chance to get some extra sleep, but lately my insomnia’s getting real bad. The circles under my eyes are starting to look like a permanent fixture. When Tommy’s crying is ringing in my ears and I feel like I’m about to shatter into little pieces, there’s only one outlet: late-night TV. Infomercials, to be exact. More infomercials than you can count.

Sitting in front of the ghostly blue glow of the screen is just about the only thing that helps distract from a one-year-old’s incessant wailing. Yeah, yeah, before you revoke my “good parenting” card, I’ll have you know Tommy cries over nothing. The kid’s fed and watered, but he’ll scream like it’s the end of the world.

There’s no feeling quite like slipping into a near-fugue state at two in the morning with the words buy now, and we’ll throw in a free pack of refills! ringing around in your head, like ping-pong balls ricocheting in an empty room. At some point, if you’re lucky, you’ll slip into unconsciousness and wake up with your face mashed into the couch.

I’ve pretty much seen them all by now. Catalogued in them head. There’s the blender that promises to make meal prep 5000% more efficient, the hairdryer from heaven, the neck-cushioner that’ll cure your arthritis, the vacuum cleaner that connects to Bluetooth and probably can sleep with your wife. A hundred perky men and women going on about weight loss pills and makeup and kitchen knives and towels that’ll revolutionize your life, no really, we promise or your money back.

Well, all except one. Last night, I saw a new infomercial that I’m still not quite sure if I hallucinated or not. It was maybe 3AM, and my mind was throbbing, pulsing inside my skull. I’d all but given up on sleep. The blonde woman on the screen had just finished her spiel about cubic zirconia jewelry, and then this way-too-catchy jingle was blaring from the TV:

Spleeno! Spleeno all your worries away! Spleeno! Spleeno makes a better today!

It was a chorus of high-pitched voices, I think, something childish like you’d hear in a toy commercial. The lyrics to the jingle flashed across the screen in fat, cartoonish letters.

Next, there was one of those “before” montages. You know, the clips of people cracking eggs onto the floor or groaning about their bad back, before the miracle product swoops in to save them. It was pretty standard: a black-and-white shot of a young woman applying mascara in the mirror, making an exaggerated mess of it by smudging it all over her eyelids. She frowned at the finished result. The camera zoomed in on her clumped-together lashes. The whole time, this glum, almost comically sad tune played in the background.

It transitioned into a full-color scene of the woman beaming into the mirror. The words SPLEENO! hung above her head, and the music was now generically upbeat. Look. I hadn’t slept in around thirty-six hours, and I’d started to feel like my brain was melting out of my ears, so I don’t know what I saw. But it sure as hell looked like this pretty girl brought a pair of tweezers up to her eyelids and began plucking out her lashes, one by one, all with a TV-ready smile splayed across her face. No time lapse or anything. It might have gone on for five minutes or fifteen. When it was finished, she almost looked normal, but if you looked close, you could see her completely bare lids.

The infomercial ended with the SPLEENO! jingle playing again while the woman beamed into the camera. She picked up a tube of mascara, looked at it, then tossed it aside. It was so strange that I figured it had to be a parody, complete with an “after” montage of overacting and smiling. I know this sounds crazy, but afterwards, I felt almost relieved. Like some small weight I didn’t even know was there had been taken off my shoulders.

Then Tommy’s crying started up again, and the feeling was lost.

February 13th

I saw it again last night. Honest to god. I actually did pass out for around an hour before waking up, feeling like absolute crap. I peeled myself off the couch to check on Tommy. He was sleeping for once, and I promptly returned to the living room to tune in to my favorite channel.

I watched the same toaster infomercial twice before it came on again. When the jingle started, my heart sped up: Spleeno! Spleeno all your worries away! Spleeno! Spleeno makes a better today! Whatever this was, it had one hell of a catchy tune. The kind that crops up in your mind at the worst of moments.

Call it morbid curiosity. I wanted to see what was going to play this time. It was too early to be an April Fool’s prank, but maybe it was all a joke by someone with a seriously weird sense of humor, or promo for an upcoming movie.

The jingle ended, and the colors quickly faded to black and white. I watched as a middle-aged man came on screen. He was dressed in his pajamas, his hair tousled in a TV version of a messy bedhead. He stood in front of the mirror and cupped his cheek with a grimace, then opened his mouth to inspect his teeth: they were yellow and crooked, some of them sitting at angles that looked downright painful. I could see black spots of rot on his molars. He poured a cupful of mouthwash and gargled, but his face creased as if he was in agony and he quickly spit it all down the drain.

The scene shifted, and the now-technicolored man was dressed smartly in work clothes, his hair slicked down with gel. SPLEENO! danced across the screen in burning pink letters. The counter was littered with teeth. He looked into his mirror and smiled, revealing a completely toothless mouth with raw, bloody gums. I should have been disgusted, but that reaction never came. Instead I was... fascinated. The man didn’t look to be in pain. He seemed almost elated. And why shouldn’t he be? His pain was gone. I wondered how he felt—light, carefree. I felt a little scared for feeling the way I did, but I couldn’t deny it, either.

Afterwards, I stuck around to watch a mattress commercial, but found that my eyes closed of their own volition, and I finally fell into shallow, dreamless sleep. I woke up feeling unsatisfied, like I’d had some unfinished business in a dream, but couldn’t remember what.

February 17th

I’ve stayed up every night since Tuesday and it hasn’t come on a single time. I know what I saw, but at the same time I’m starting to doubt myself. Maybe I dreamed it all up. Either way, I haven’t slept a minute in three nights.

I almost crashed the car during a milk run for formula and diapers this morning. Tommy is driving me up the wall. I could swear he wakes up and starts sounding off the minute I get home, and shuts up once I’m at work. God, I wish I had the money for a sitter. Just one night of peace and quiet might be enough. Nothing around me seems solid, anymore. It’s like the world is slipping away, and there’s only me, a sack of blood and bones dragging itself to places that feel like hollow imprints. I know I look like shit, but I’m finding it hard to care.

I wonder if this is how people lost in the desert feel, when they see that last mirage of cool water.

February 18th

It came on at 1AM. I can’t explain it, but the moment I heard the first notes to the jingle, I felt a wave of relief crashing down on me. The world felt real again.

I kept my eyes glued to the screen. There was an elderly woman this time, walking down a set of stairs to that same sad tune. With her coiffed gray hair and red sweater, she looked like a character out of a Christmas movie, the sweet old lady about to serve her grandkids chocolate-chip cookies with a smile. She wasn’t smiling now, though. Each time her right foot made contact with the steps, she winced, quickly shifting her weight to her left. Bad knee. Once she got to the bottom, she rested on the banister and caught her breath. The next few clips showed her hobbling around the house—I realized it was the same one the others were shot in—and clutching at her kneecap every few seconds.

Right then, it was as if I could feel the pain shooting up my leg, too. I wanted her to be free of it. I wanted to feel light again. I watched as the TV cut to a close-up shot of the old woman sleeping in bed. Her gray hair was spread out on the pillow like a halo. The camera slowly pulled out, revealing the rest of her nightgown-clad body and the smooth, round stump of her right leg. I noticed it’d been severed just above the knee, and it looked to have healed completely, the skin intact except for a line of white scarring. I examined her face. With her mouth curled into a smile, she was the picture of tranquility. I couldn’t help but smile myself. Her pain was gone now, discarded with the unbearable weight of all that putrid flesh. For the first time in a long time, I felt at ease, perfectly content, even. I kept smiling as the jingle ran again.

Spleeno! Spleeno all your worries away! Spleeno! Spleeno makes a better today!

I didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, but I kept grinning anyway, enjoying the way those words rolled off my tongue.

February 20th

Yesterday was the best one yet! I didn’t go to work, just in case I’d miss it while I was gone. Tommy was crying as usual, and he was annoying as ever, but I didn’t let him distract me.

I kept my attention on the TV. The infomercial came on around midnight—earlier than usual. It featured a man and his dog. A golden retriever. Even with the grainy quality, I could see that it was a beautiful specimen, its coat sleek and its eyes bright. Too bad it just wouldn’t shut up. Its barking went on and on, all through the night, and my heart clenched with sympathy as the man groaned and clapped his hands over his ears. The barks seemed to grow in volume until it was unbearable. I shook my head as the man tried a pair of earplugs to block out the noise. I knew all too well those didn’t work. Tommy’s cries could penetrate through anything.

I was on the edge of my seat waiting for what came next. The black-and-white gave way to color, and the man went from tired and groggy to well-rested. He got up from bed and stretched, then went to the kitchen to fix himself a cup of coffee, humming the whole time. As a stream of coffee poured into his mug, I noticed a large yellowish mass lying on the kitchen floor. The dog’s body looked broken, and its head was stained with a bloom of red, but the man’s newfound happiness was so infectious that I hardly paid it any attention. The now-familiar SPLEENO! hung above the pair. I realized my face was wet with tears of joy. The man had gotten what he wanted: silence. The tears kept coming even after the screen went black.

Spleeno. It’s a wonderful sound. A wonderful word. It takes all your worries away. It makes you realize you have to hold on, and if something’s standing in the way, then you have to get rid of it.

That night, I slept like a baby.

[sinsiriuslyemo]

So I saw your post about taking requests for deleted scenes from past seasons of cuba vs dr, and ironically I've always wanted a scene where nevada takes care of lily and eddie while dama was in prison, if you could put that in i would greatly appreciate it, again congrats on making this series for what it is and good luck with the last season

The Beginning

Nevada had heard plenty of screams in his lifetime; gurgling screams, terrified screams, high-pitched screams, the list went on. But nothing had ever prepared him for the cries of a baby every two hours, especially at four in the morning. He’d taken care of Eddie as a baby plenty of times, but nothing compared to the 24/7 madhouse that he was living in currently.

Rolling over, he groaned a rubbed a hand over his face. He’d barely been asleep for 45 minutes and he suddenly wished he’d been the one to have been put in prison. At least that kind of madhouse, he was familiar with. He could handle a jailhouse brawl any day, but the next year taking orders from an infant was going to be brutal. He could feel it.

He got up from bed, put on a pair of sweats and shuffled into Lily’s room, carding his fingers through his hair with one hand while the other braced himself against her crib. He peered down at his daughter, who had her mouth stretched open as wide as it would go, her little tongue shaking with her cries and her eyes plump and shut tightly as her fists shook on either side of her head.

“Coño chica, doesn’t that shit give you a headache?” he asked in a gravelly voice.

She was either none the wiser of him having asked her a question or simply did not care to hear any lip service, because Lily simply continued to wail at the top of her little lungs. Sighing heavily, Nevada shifted his weight and reached down, picking Lily up and sniffing at her waist.

She didn’t need a change.

He set her against his chest with one hand on her back and gently rocked her. She didn’t care for his efforts to calm her.

The only thing left to attempt was to satiate her possible hunger and he sighed again as he went downstairs and into the kitchen with his daughter still in his arms.

“Your mother owes me big time for this shit,” he groaned, pulling a bottle out of the fridge and warming it up before he checked the temperature. He offered the rubber nipple to the infant, who didn’t see to care for that either. “Come on, mijíta, have mercy,” he mumbled to the baby.

Apparently she took after her father, because mercy was the last thing on her mind in that moment. Her little face was getting redder by the minute and Nevada set the bottle down with the intent of trying the last trick he had up his sleeve. Setting Lily down on the kitchen table, he took her onesie off and picked her up, setting her against his bare chest as he went back upstairs, making sure to grab the bottle just in case.

As soon as he got a blanket over her back and sat in the rocking chair in her room, her cries began to calm down until she was quiet again.

“Thank fuck for that,” he said in a sigh of relief.

The door opened a moment later and Eddie walked in, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Mira who decided to join the party,” Nevada said as he looked down at Lily’s face.

“She cries so loud,” Eddie groaned.

“Yeah, no shit.”

“You need any help, tio?” Eddie asked.

“No, I’m good, go back to bed,” Nevada replied. “Dale, you got your first day of school tomorrow.”

“Okay...goodnight.”

“Night,” Nevada replied, letting his rest against the back of the rocking chair. His eyes threatened to close several times, and he stood, dressing Lily in a new set of pajamas before going back to the rocking chair to offer the bottle again. This time she latched on without trouble, her eyes still closed but this time much more relaxed.

The First Solid

“Okay, escúchame bien, princesa,” Nevada said, tiny spoon in one hand and homemade baby food in the other. “Your abuela Gladys used to make this shit for your cousins all the time and they loved it. It’s like baby crack.”

Lily gave him a grin, showing off her only two teeth and giggling as she reached for the spoon.

She’d just started eating solids and seemed to hate everything Gerber had to offer. Anytime he would feed her any, she would spit it out immediately, most of which would end up on his face. Gladys hadn’t been surprised at all.

“What did you expect? Eso no es comida!” she’d said to him.

“Okay, so don’t spit this out. This is baby gold, me entiendes?”

Lily squealed, clapping her hands three times before she placed both hands on top of her head.

“Alright, here we go,” he said, gathering some mashed up vegetables onto the spoon and slowly brought it towards the baby’s mouth.

The door opened and Eddie walked in, tossing his backpack down on the floor on his way towards the stairs. He’d been volunteering after school as a tutor in the library, and usually didn’t get home until close to five.

“Oye, pick that shit up. This look like a pig stye?” Nevada asked.

“Come on, tio. Tia’s not here, we don’t have to be all clean or whatever,” Eddie groaned.

“¿Como?” Nevada asked, arching a brow. “Oye, me cago en mi abuela. Pick up your backpack, carajo.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and turned to pick up his backpack off the floor.

“¿Y que? How’d your test go?” Nevada asked, turning back to Lily and offering her the spoon.

“Good, I finished early.”

“Good,” Nevada replied as Lily pressed her lips together, refusing to taste the homemade baby food. “Come on, princesa, just taste it. I promise you’ll like it.”

Lily threw herself against the back of the highchair, turning her head to one side and grimacing.

“Lily, come on, just a bite,” Eddie said, laying his backpack on the table. The baby simply continued to swat at the spoon, blowing raspberries at Nevada.

“You got homework?” Nevada asked.

“Yeah, I can do it later though.”

“No, no, do it now. Come on, abuela and abuelo are gonna be here soon,” Nevada replied. “They’re bringing your favorite.”

“Churrasco?” Eddie asked, his eyes lighting up.

“Mhm, con arroz y frijoles, and I think abuela Gladys made a flan that she might bring over, too.”

“Oh hell yes!” Eddie cheered.

“Entonce dale, if you want some of that flan, you’ll finish all your homework,” Nevada said before he once again set his gaze on Lily. “Y tu, vamos. I want you to take a bite of this.”

Lily giggled again, squealing and reaching for Nevada, who held the spoon to her mouth again. He used the spoon to try and open her mouth by flicking it against her bottom lip.

“Open wide, mi vida,” Nevada cooed. Lily would not budge. “Mira, it’s good,” he said, putting the spoon into his mouth and humming at the taste.

“Ew,” Eddie said in a chuckle.

“¿Como que ew? It’s just blended vegetables. Abuela Gladys used to make this all the time. We could eat this, it’s like vegetable soup, she just put it through the blender,” Nevada replied.

“Seriously? Isn’t Lily supposed to be eating baby food?” Eddie asked.

“This is baby food. It’s just homemade.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, abuela said Lily shouldn’t be eating that bullshit Gerber shit,” Nevada replied  shrugging after a moment. “She didn’t like it anyway.”

“That’s kinda cool, I guess,” Eddie mumbled, pulling out his homework while Nevada continued to try and feed Lily.

He tried many tactics; peekaboo, choo-choo train, airplane, nothing worked. Lily simply giggled and squirmed in her chair, dodging the spoon every time. After a while, Nevada sighed heavily, almost giving up but deciding to try one last time.

“Lily, abre la boca,” he said. He arched a brow at the wide, green-eyed stare his daughter bestowed upon him, her mouth still closed. “Mija, por favor. Just try it,” he pleaded.

A knock at the door sounded and Eddie got up to answer it. Nevada smirked when he saw his nephew looking through the peephole before opening the door and letting Oscar and Gladys inside. The latter had tupperware filled with food while Oscar carried the flan.

“Hola, mijo. ¿Como esta?” Oscar asked, patting Eddie’s back and kissing his forehead.

“Bien. Tio’s the one that needs help,” Eddie replied, kissing Glady’s cheek and helping her with the food.

“Oye, how’s that new food, muñequita?” Oscar cooed as he walked towards Lily.

“No quiere comer. Me esta volviendo loco,” Nevada said, turning in his seat to look at Oscar. “Es para meterse la cuchara por la cabeza.”

“No niño, you gotta be patient,” Oscar replied. “Tres was like that too. Never wanted to eat anything.”

“What’d Melissa do?” Nevada asked, really wanting to know.

“She had OJ making funny faces at him and Melissa would just sneak the spoon in when he laughed,” Gladys answered as she began to open all the tupperwares and serve the food on plates.

“Mira, mira,” Oscar said, setting down the flan before he went to stand over Nevada’s shoulder. Crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue, he placed his thumb on his nose and began to babble.

Lily started to laugh and Nevada--seeing his opportunity for victory--quickly thrust the spoon into his daughter’s mouth. Lily grimaced slightly as she tasted the food for the first time, making Nevada and Oscar laugh at her expressions. Finally she swallowed, squealed in delight, and opened her mouth again.

“Viste? All it takes is one bite,” Oscar said as he patted Nevada’s shoulder. “Your abuela makes the best baby food in New York, Iliana.”

Lily cooed up at her grandfather as Nevada fed her more of the baby food.

“Oye, dale, you have her all the time. Give abuelo some time,” Oscar said, gently shoving Nevada out of the chair and taking his spot. “Dame el baby food. Ves y ayuda tu madre.”

Nevada snorted, nodding and going to help Gladys warm up their dinner.

“Eddie go wash up,” Nevada said, patting his nephew’s shoulder.

Gladys waited until Eddie had gone to the downstairs bathroom before she spoke softly to Nevada. “¿Como estas?”

He bobbed his shoulders. “Fine.”

She snorted softly. “You forget that I did ten years alone while Oscar was locked up,” she reminded him. “You miss her?”

“A little,” he mumbled.

“Nevada…”

He sighed heavily--he seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “Yeah, I miss her.”

That was somewhat of an understatement; he didn’t just miss you, he worried about you. You weren’t like him. People like you got eaten alive on the inside unless they hooked up with someone who could watch their back. And even then, prison was not easy.

“She’s smart,” Gladys said. “She’ll be okay. So will you, Eddie and Lily.”

“I know,” he mumbled, taking Eddie’s plate out of the microwave and putting the next one in.

“You’re taking pictures of Lily for her, right?”

“Claro que si. She reminds me every time we go see her,” he answered.

“You’re doing good, mijo,” Gladys said, smiling and running a hand over the back of his head.

Nevada nodded and looked over his shoulder to see Oscar with an empty bowl, playing peekaboo with Lily. He smirked as the baby put her hands over her eyes, trying to mimic her grandfather’s movements.

“He loves babies,” Gladys said with a smile.

The First Word

Nevada and Eddie sat at a table near the back of the restaurant, the former doing his best to help with homework though he hardly remembered grasping the material when even he was in school. Usually it would be you helping Eddie with his homework, but with you in prison it fell to Nevada. He thought about hiring someone to do it for him--it wasn’t as though he wasn’t busy with Lily, who sat on his knee at that very moment, chewing on rubber keys--but Nevada had realized that he rather enjoyed this time with Eddie. Even though the preteen seemed to know more than he did about the pythagorean theorem.

“Just use the formula, mijo. That’s the easiest thing about algebra. If you know the right formula to use, it’s easy from there. Just fill in the numbers,” he said, bouncing his daughter on his knee absently as he watched Eddie fill in the correct numbers for x and y.

“When’s tia coming home?” Eddie asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Nevada’s face fell slightly. “I don’t know.”

“Tio Rafael said he’s working on finding a way to get her sentence reduced,” Eddie offered as he continued to solve the equation. “I just wondered.”

“Your tio Rafael, he’s a smart guy. If he says he can get her out, he will,” Nevada said.

It was surprising, even to him, any time he verbally expressed faith or favor towards Rafael. It wasn’t as though he hated your brother, but with he and the prosecutor being on opposite sides of the law it seemed logical to keep his distance.

“You think so?” Eddie asked, finally looking up to meet Nevada’s eyes.

“Yeah,” the older man replied, nodding his head as he looked back at the boy. “I’m working on trying to help, too.”

Eddie nodded, letting a soft sigh escape from his nostrils as he shifted his gaze back to his homework.

Lily pulled the toy from her mouth, shaking it in front of her and cooing to herself as with the hand not holding the keys, she examined each individual shaped implement, noticing how each was a different color.

“You think Lily misses her?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah, of course she does,” Nevada mumbled.

“Think she’ll remember that tia wasn’t here right now?”

“Probably not, she’s too little. Right, princesa?” Nevada asked, looking down at his daughter, who tilted her head back to look up at him with her big, green eyes and a wide grin.

“There, I think I got it,” Eddie said, turning his notebook to show Nevada.

His uncle looked at the equation, nodding his head as he looked over the work. “Good job. Looks right to me, pero check the back of the book, see if you got it right.”

He picked Lily up and turned her to face him, pulling her up against his shoulder and letting her pat his scruffy cheek. She played with the short, coarse hairs on her father’s face, dribbling and opening her mouth to press it against Nevada’s skin. The older man snorted, using his free hand to thread his fingers through his daughter’s curls.

“I love you too, princesa,” he mumbled softly.

“Da-Da…”

Eddie whipped his head towards them, his mouth agape and eyes wide in surprise. “Whoa...did she just say dada?”

Nevada leaned his head away from Lily to look down at her. “I think so.”

“Da-Da,” Lily said again, her little hands swatting at Nevada’s nose. “Da-Da!”

Nevada grinned and peppered kisses against a little, plump cheek until his daughter was giggling and squirming away from the playful assault. As her father pressed a final kiss to her forehead, her eyes fell on the shiny object dangling from his neck, and she made an amused sound as one chubby hand took hold of it.

“Da-Da-Daaa,” she sang in a soft, high-pitched voice.

Oscar emerged from the back room and approached their table with a soft smirk. “Jefe, estamos lísto,” he said.

“Okay, dáme un minúto,” Nevada answered.

Oscar nodded once, turning to leave as Eddie looked up at his uncle.

“Tio…”

“Yeah, mijo?” Nevada replied, carefully taking his necklace away from Lily.

“Don’t die, okay?” Eddie said with a frown.

Nevada looked up at his nephew, corner of his mouth lifting as he shook his head. “I won’t.”

“Cause if you die, me and Lily will be all alone,” Eddie reminded him.

Nevada sighed heavily, nodding his head. “I know. Don’t worry, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

His answer seemed to satisfy Eddie, who nodded back at him and gave Nevada a tight smile. “Okay.”

“Da-Da-Da-Da-Da-Da…”

[outoftheassparlor]

This is a story about abortion.

I’ve told this story to myself and others in a hundred different ways. I’ve told it as a woman who was almost a mother and then wasn’t and will never be. I’ve told it as a woman who laid dying in a hospital bed after her fallopian tube ruptured to have a male doctor, in front of his students, ask how she knew she was pregnant.

I’ve told it as a cautionary tale against smoking and about worst case scenarios. I’ve told it as a person who received a blood transfusion and how meaningful that experience is. I’ve told it as a woman whose medical bills could have been around $50,000 after she got out of the hospital if not for insurance.

Now I’m going to tell it as a story about abortion.

My pregnancy was never viable even though it was wanted. We tried for 5 years to have a child and when it finally happened we were terrified, thrilled and frankly surprised. We’d given up. I wanted a girl and we picked out names. We immediately made appointments and cancelled allergy shots and called doctors about medications.

I will always regret telling people I was pregnant before the ultrasound.

We went in sure everything was fine but after a while it became clear something was wrong. I heard “how do you know you’re pregnant?” for the first time from the tech.

Well, maybe the 5 fucking pregnancy tests we took the day before and after.

But the tech couldn’t find an embryo and there’s a part of me that thinks she thought I was making it up.

I went home and searched and searched the Internet. My doctor guessed I was about 7-8 weeks along and at least 2 of those weeks were full of binge drinking and late nights. I found a lot of reassuring things, that the little blueberry with hands may have just been hiding and would appear. The tech might have been inexperienced or I may have drunk too much water.

The baby-less sonogram was delivered to my doctor anyway.

Her office called and told me I needed to come in soon and I did. Thankfully my husband was available and came with me and that’s when she told me the pregnancy was ectopic.

I didn’t even know what meant and as she coldly explained what happened to me I broke down and sobbed. She looked at me curiously like, why are you so upset? And then I had a decision to make. Did I want a shot? We asked her every question we could about whether “the pregnancy” could be saved. It couldn’t. The embryo just wasn’t in the right place and it had to go. This shot could kill it and potentially prevent damage and a life threatening situation.

Eventually we made the decision that yes I’d have the methotrexate shot. We carried the prescription to the charmingly named Apothecary and left. It would take them about 30 minutes they said. It wasn’t in stock and they had to get it from another pharmacy.

They told me my insurer didn’t cover the shot for the reason it was prescribed so I’d have to pay the full $20. I laughed at the injustice through my tears and handed over my debit card.

Until that moment I’d quit smoking but I gave up giving up. We went to the shop across the street run by a nice Korean couple and bought a pack of American Spirit golds. We setup shop at a small bar at the corner and I sobbed and smoked and my husband stared on.

Eventually we got a call from my doctor, the shot was delivered and it was time. We crossed the street again and went to the office. I tried to joke with the medical assistant that my husband was going to have a vasectomy and that I hoped there were no contraindications with alcohol. There were, as it turned out.

I went back into the office and the doctor had me pull down my pants so they could stab me with the needle. I was ordered to have blood work taken to monitor hormone levels to see if the shot was successful in stopping cell production and so I did.

That weekend to cheer me up we went to the Oregon State Fair and walked around. I didn’t go on any rides but we saw the animals, watched the horse competitions and wandered around the expo hall. The usual fair exhibitors were there; MLMs seeking suckers, vitamin blenders, skincare products with fancy names and craftsmen. There were also the non profits and those included Oregon Right to Life. Their booth was actually in front of the doors. Huge posters with grotesque images of embryos and fetuses at eye level right as you walked in.

It was the last thing I wanted to see and it made me so angry. I had just, 3 days earlier, had an abortion so I could save my life and there was no way these people could ever understand.

I walked out and sat on a concrete fence and cried. I hated them so much. I hated the Catholic priests that were against the treatment that might have saved me. I hated them for their callousness. All I wanted to do was look at the quilts.

We tried to shake it off and I went to a palm reader who said to me “you just lost a child” and I was shocked. I’m still convinced she must have seen me crying and made a guess. Regardless she risked a lot by telling that fortune. She really could have ended up laid out on the floor.

All the while I tried to keep my chin up and just get through it. That’s all I wanted to do was get through it. I didn’t know what that meant but just through.

A couple days after the fair I laid in the fetal position in the bathroom at work. At 1:33 pm I felt something go. I couldn’t tell you what it was but at 1:32 I didn’t feel well but was ok and at 1:33 I wasn’t ok. I was overwhelmed by pain I hadn’t experienced before or since. Somehow I still walked the 3 blocks to get my painkillers so I could stay at work. That’s how I ended up on the floor. I was desperate for the oxycodone I’d been prescribed to take effect. It didn’t

My employer paid for a taxi home and I laid on the couch. I found the pain wasn’t as bad when I was on my side. The doctor told me there was going to be pain. So there was pain and as a woman I was used to being in pain at least once a month so I just had to get through this and be strong.

I took more painkillers and managed to sleep but the next day even being on my side was painful. My husband called my doctor for a stronger prescription.

The doctor told him I needed to come in right away.

I chose this particular clinic because they were two blocks away from our apartment. I could drop by for my appointment and either get home early or hop on the street car to get downtown. The location made it all very easy. But after I found I couldn’t go back upstairs out of sheer agony we booked a car share to go that two blocks and get me to my appointment.

As I sat in the waiting room I noticed the anxiety in another patient’s eyes when she looked my way.

The pain just kept coming. No amount of leaning or changing sides made it better. When I finally saw my smart but lacking in humor doctor she asked if I was experiencing any pain. As I lay on the exam table unable to open my eyes I replied “no, everything’s just fine.”

The hospital was across a breezeway and they pushed me over. After some argument about whose wheelchair I should be in I was in a room in the ER and somehow in a gown with tubes in and out of my arm. At one point I noticed a bruise on my wrist and how perfectly smooth my skin was. I thought my arm looked just like a doll’s.

Someone’s surgery was bumped and they got me in. I signed papers and didn’t know what they said. A man who I never did find out his name squeezed my hand and told me I was going to be ok. I still cry thinking about how for about two seconds that made me feel better. The rest of the time I was just pain in human form. There was no room for fear or sadness, there was only blinding, all consuming, pain.

I woke up from my surgery in a recovery room with a nice nurse who hooked me up for a blood transfusion. I was surprised at how cold the blood was and overwhelmed at the knowledge someone else’s blood was in my body. I also felt relief. I wasn’t in pain anymore.

They took care of me in the hospital. I had a second transfusion that had some issues thanks to new transfusion software. I laughed because IT problems followed me even close to death.

My surgeon came and told me she’d done a D&C, or dilation and curettage, because after everything I’d been through she didn’t want me to bleed heavily after I got out of the hospital.

I call this the abortion that almost was because there are what ifs where the methotrexate shot would have taken me out of the very dangerous situation I ended up in. Even a surgical extraction of the pregnancy, or another kind of abortion, would have prevented the situation. But I was very unlucky. We found out I was pregnant too late. Even at 7 weeks I only vaguely showed symptoms. I didn’t vomit and I was no more or less moody than normal. I even spotted in between and I chalked that up to normal period weirdness during times of stress. It was only a vague sense of nausea around 10 am everyday for a week that tipped me off.

I was lucky enough to have doctors that had options and were smart and could act quickly. If abortion rights are taken from us will doctors be able to provide us with the options I had? The shot would probably be right out. Would they even be able to extract a pregnancy from a fallopian tube or would that upset the anti choice crowd? Would the hospital where the procedure was performed be allowed to ban partial salpingectomies because it impacts my fertility? Would they be able to treat me at all with my history of smoking and even smoking while pregnant because I didn’t know.

I don’t think it’s a question anymore that some of the things that were available to me won’t be protected in the very near future. I think the question now is at what point in this story about pregnancy and abortion would the people coming to power have let me die?