#if u saw the previous typo no u didn’t!!!

[foetalmania]

JG Thirlwell and Lydia Lunch performing live as the Immaculate Consumptive, 1983. Unknown photographer, unknown venue.

[phoenixrising0308]

The Arrangement (Part 1): The day I married someone else (a)

Books: The Royal Romance Book 3

Rating: M (Mature content and implied sexual activities)

Pairing: Liam & Jessica (MC)

The Arrangement -  This is the story of how Liam Rys and Jessica Garcia enter a Cordonian arrangement. This is a 4 chapter story arc and fits into a story in between called the Promise which is in the Agent Phoenix A/U . 

Detailed disclaimer

Triggers: Physical aggression

Chapter Summary: The walls close in on Liam as he is forced into marriage for the sake of his country.

A/N: This is an original chapter that I wrote to the arrangement which was first released in 2019/2020 under a previous blog name. 

Song Inspiration: The Arrangement Playlist

Word Count: 2,000 *As always forgive my typo’s and grammatical errors*

Reading time: 7 minutes.

Liam woke up to the natural light of the sun shining through his windows; his eyes were red and puffy. It was hard to admit, but the Crown Prince spent his night in his room crying over her, knowing that there was no turning back. It was over.

Although his brother was his closest ally, his resentment boiled over today. He wanted to follow his heart and abdicate, giving the throne to his long-time friend Olivia Nevrakis. However, Jessica refused his offer, foolishly thinking that they could undo the wrong done to her. Had it not been for Leo’s abdication, he would at least be free to walk away from royal life and be with her. But on this day, he would need to say goodbye to the life he dreamed of, a life where the other side of the bed was warm with her beside him. 

He walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower as he washed his hair; He let himself melt under the comfort of the warm water. His vulnerability came to the surface, and he found himself crying, thinking of her once more. The last time he saw her was three days ago at an adoption ceremony. She wore a light blue dress. At the Beaumont's, as she signed her name on the document that would tie her to them forever, she gave them a warm smile, something that he missed seeing and something that made his heart skip a beat each time he saw it. He tried to talk to her, but she avoided being alone with him, and she sent his calls to voicemail. The last time he made love to her was in Yu garden in Shanghai on a boat. He closed his eyes for a second to imagine that moment; for all he knew, standing in the shower, it was their last time. He could smell her scent of vanilla and lavender perfume. He could envision the way her red lace dress clung to the curves of her body in the most exquisite way and, when nothing else was on her body, the way the pearl bracelet glimmered in the moonlight. He sighed deeply and could feel her body on top of his as it expertly moved against his own. Each moment of intimacy was a gift of themselves to each other, and each time they fell deeper in love. He was losing that gift today. 

To be with her now would put her in a category she didn’t belong. Liam hated the word ‘mistress’ because she would never be that to him. She would forever be the woman he loved. She wouldn’t be Jessica Rys or the other woman in the shadows. He told her Madeleine was his wife on paper, but emotionally, his heart was hers. His body was hers, and as he promised her, they were two bodies that shared the same heart and soul. A Cordonian arrangement was all they had. If she agreed, it would be the only way to be together. They tried to be friends during the engagement tour but couldn’t. They just couldn’t stay away from each other. With each wall she built up, Liam managed to break through. She struggled with it the entire engagement tour. Every time she saw him and his fiancée together, the dances that should have been theirs, the kisses and hand-holding, the moments of tenderness which were staged, but nonetheless, she knew that if it were her, it would be genuine. She never gave him an answer to what she wanted to do. After that, she decided to stay in New York, but something pulled her back to the court. It was her responsibility to the Beaumont's, but Liam hoped part of it was him in his heart. 

After he showered, he walked to his closet and looked at his custom-made wedding regalia tailored for him. When he still believed there was a possibility of being together, on the inside of the jacket where his heart would rest, the monogram L&J. No one would notice it. Still, it was an essential detail to him that when they were alone, and he took off his jacket, he would show her that his heart was hers and he promised it before God and his people. 

He traced the letter J and said, “Jessica” in barely a whisper. He hated that today it was designed for his wedding to her and would now be used in a ceremony where he would be promised to another. 

He sat on his bed, took a deep breath, and looked at the clock. Any minute now, preparations for the wedding would begin. The bell in Cordonia square would toll, the people would line the streets waving Cordonian flags, and they would throw flowers and the official wedding coin with his image and that of the new Queen to be on the streets; a Cordonian tradition of good fortune. He didn’t want any of it. He wanted a swift ceremony and an even swiffer divorce. He hoped that nothing that was happening today would taint what he wanted Jessica to have if he could free himself. The laws made it clear it wasn’t a question if he could divorce, but it would be a question of grounds and how long he would need to wait as the Royal Council would need to approve of the dissolution of his coerced marriage. He combed his hands through his hair as he heard the dreaded sound. The sound that would set the day’s events into motion was the galloping of horses from their carriage. A messenger was sent to collect his signature and bring the instrument of intent to marry and ascend the throne to the Archbishop. 

The door flung open with no warning. Constantine entered and said, “My boy, it is a joyous day. You will take over my throne.” He was followed by staff, who drew his curtains.

Liam looked at the floor as he responded. “There is nothing joyful about this day,” Liam said in a whisper. His throat was hoarse with grief and the strain of sobbing all night. His eyes were downcast, refusing to look at the man that ruined his life.

“It is time to do what you must and sign the instrument that promises Countess Madeleine lands and other rights owed to her as your wife.” 

Liam scowled, “I refused to call her my wife.” 

Constantine tsked, “No matter what, you call her in private. By law, she is your wife from this day forward. You will come around, son.”

The messenger was escorted to the room by the Royal Guard, holding a wooden box. “Your Majesty and, “Your Royal Highness,” the man said, bowing, “The Duchess of Krona and The Duke of Karlington have sent over the signed instrument. I am here to collect your signature so upon marriage, the Archbishop may place his seal.” 

Liam looked at the document and took his pen, and with his left hand, he signed away his life for his people. Something that he was born to do in an arranged marriage his whole life but something that changed for him since meeting Jessica. He knew love, her love, and his heart wanted that more than anything. Marrying her would mean a marriage filled with love and tenderness.

 The messenger said, “Your Royal Highness, is there anything you want to send the future Queen?” 

Liam looked at him, puzzled, and said, “Excuse me, I am uncertain of what you mean?”

The man answered, “A gift.” 

Liam looked at him and said, “Should she ask to tell her that she is allowed to live here although she is unwanted and she is allowed to be addressed as Queen. Although, she is undeserving of the title. Remind her that it will all be short-lived, and she is just a guest.”

Constantine sucked his teeth and said, “Please direct the messenger to Queen Regina’s quarters; she will provide you with a gift for the Bride, her niece, from her personal jewelry collection. Surely the Bride will be moved by such a gift from a Queen to a future Queen.”

Liam retorted and said, “Very well. I can’t stop you from giving her something. But I have given the messenger a directive, and he is to deliver that message. Should he ease up on the language, fine, but the message, whether in English, French, Italian, or whatever language the Countess knows, is the same at the core I despise her.” He turned to the messenger and said, “You are excused.” 

With that, the messenger exited Liam’s quarters and was directed to Regina’s room to collect a hastily given bridal gift.

Liam allowed the royal servants to do whatever they wanted. Brush his hair, help him dress, put on Cologne. It all felt like he was no more than a rag doll being tossed around and dolled up while he just stared off into nothing.

Constantine watched the entire time, not caring about frivolous things such as privacy or respect for his youngest son.

“You look distasteful and weak with those red eyes. This will be broadcasted for the entire Nation to see. Something must be done to cover it.” 

Liam snapped out of his trance, “Weak?” He huffed with a humorless chuckle. “It’s a strength and honor to my country to marry a woman who I can’t tolerate more than what social decorum dictates.”

Soon after came Regina and Leo after Liam was dressed. Leo smiled sadly at his younger brother.

“You look handsome as ever, Liam. I’m so proud of you.” Regina smiled softly. 

Constantine said, “Proud? The boy looks like a sobbing child on a day when our reputation is on the line. The least he could do is be a man and handle his duty with pride.”

Liam snapped his head in his Father’s direction. All composure went out the window at the statement.

Leo closed his eyes and mumbled under his breath. “You couldn’t have stayed silent, could you?” 

“A child, Father? You think I should be more stoic or manly on this day?” Liam released a bitter chuckle before kicking over a table.

“I apologize, Father! So sorry that my life has been ruined and my heart is being ripped into a million pieces, but I can’t act like I’m thrilled!! How dishonorable of me!” 

Constantine huffed, “Well, you should know I sent Lady Jessica a letter by footman today about the doctrine Sex primis noctibus. I felt it necessary to remind her of her place should she become the other half of the Cordonian Arrangement.”

Liam glared at his Father and said, “You did what?!”

“You heard me. I reminded her of where you would be the first six nights of your marriage, unable to communicate with the outside world and bedding the Queen as tradition dictates.”

“I did not invoke that Cordonian clause! It is my right to invoke it, and I will not be trapped in this palace with Madeleine in close quarters to produce an heir!”

“That’s true, you didn’t invoke it, but I, as the King, have. It’s an order, so I’m sure she is devastated. Liam, do not forget the order of things. You convinced her to come here. Now she must deal with her new found status.”

Filled with anger at what his Father had done to further torment Jessica, he picked up a chair and threw it across the room.  

Regina gasped, and Leo simply watched as Liam marched towards his Father, now towering over the older man. 

Constantine glared, “What are you going to do, Liam, assault me? You had to taint today by stubbornly always keeping that woman in your thoughts.” 

Liam yelled in his face. “Of course I fucking do! Because that woman is the only woman for me! Today was supposed to be her day, and you took that away from us both!!” 

“I took nothing away.” 

I’m being forced into a marriage of hate and lies, and you don’t even care!” Liam’s nostrils flared as he yelled, “You betrayed me, Father. You used me! You don’t give a damn about anyone but yourself!” 

“Boy, calm yourself.” 

Liam saw red at the order and, without thinking, shoved Constantine against a nearby wall. Regina clutched her mouth, and Leo calmly walked over as Liam screamed in his Father’s face. “I will not!! When do I get a say-so? When do I get to choose? I’ve been ripped back and forth, advised, and taken care of all my life. I am a grown man and can’t choose who I marry!” 

Liam was inches from his Father’s face, hands on his collar as Constantine glared and dug his fingers into his son’s wrist. 

“Come on, Li. The old man isn’t worth it.” Leo mumbled low while glaring at Constantine and forcibly dragged Liam off of him. 

Constantine was red-faced as he got back up into Liam’s space as Leo held him back. “You ungrateful foul-mouthed BRAT! You’re being given a crown, all the power you could ask for, and reputation, and all you care about is not marrying some ordinary woman. I should have-” 

Constantine stopped mid-sentence, coughing violently and hunching over. Regina rushed to him, placing a hand on his back. 

“Liam, please! Can’t you see that your Father is ill?” 

Liam relinquished himself of Leo’s grasp and threw a nearby vase at the wall. “OUT!! I want everyone out but my brother!” 

My list is spilt between two blogs so if you if you would like to stay on the list please let me know and if you would like off the list please DM privately thank you for being on this writing journey with me. -J

[claireunoia]

* ･ ﾟ𖡼 ︎ִֶָ⁀➷

𝘽𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙎𝙏 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝙎𝙃𝙄𝙋 | 𝙨. 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙣

「 SYNOPSIS 」 / you’re the most insecure about your chest, sarah proves your doubting thoughts wrong and shows just how beautiful you are to her eyes ♡︎.

「 PAIRINGS 」 / sarah x fem!reader

「 WORD COUNT 」 / 1435 (omg y’all gettin fed again)

「 WARNINGS 」 / ANGST, A BIT OF SMUT, insecurities, self-body image issues, crying, lots of pet names, nipple play, tit sucking, some dirty talking, suggesting to sex in the end, i don’t remember writing any language in here but imma still warn it just in case, prob some typos, thats it?

➪ author’s notes : ❝ hi babes!! welcome to the 4th day of my kinktober !! this fic is kinda something personal for me and something based on my own personal issues i have with myself due to being flat chested but i want to put something out like this so other people out there that deals with this as a insecurity can read this and real validated, thats my mission besides posting for kinktober haha. i hope u guys enjoy this since this is alot more on the softer side and something different then i usually write bc its goin to be a lot of filth going on this month so i felt like switching the mood a bit while still being a bit dirty lmao. as always i love u so much! <333 ❞

kinktober masterlist / navigation

tonight was the obx’s, infamous annual bonfire.

as the skies darkened as time passed it was slowly getting close to that time for you and girlfriend, sarah to be there so you and her were currently getting ready and changed in her bedroom.

“baby! here you should try this on, i just know you’ll look so freakin’ perfect in it” sarah exclaims as she hands you one of her cute, green colored, lacy bralette with a bright smile adoring her face. you smiled a “ok” and took the clothing from her before turning to the tall, long mirror that stood against the wall of her room.

when sarah turned back around in her closet to find something else to give you to wear or for herself, you held the piece of lace material up in front of your eyes. frowning when you saw just how much bigger it was compared to your usual size of your chest due to the fact that your girlfriend’s boobs were way bigger than yours. deciding against the thought of telling sarah and killing her wonderful mood, you tried it on anyway. you removed the previous t-shirt sarah had given you just a couple of minutes ago and your bra. once you did that you took the bralette and started to put it on your body.

when you managed to get it on, you took one little glance at the mirror and didn’t like the image you were receiving back at all. the sight making your stomach swim in insecurity and a new found sadness.

you were always insecure about your breasts. mainly because they were just so much smaller than kie’s or your girlfriend sarah’s. seeing the way bikinis fit on them and seeing the way it fits on you makes you embarrassed, ashamed and spiteful at the way you look. you longed for bigger and fuller boobs, wanting to look good in certain clothes was a dream and be able to fit in simple stuff like a bralette as well.

the bralette itself was so, so cute, but once you put it on your mind changed. since your boobs were so small, it just barely fit into the cups of the top where your boobs were supposed to go, making the now loose, leftover fabric to just hang a bit in a little wrinkled bunch around that area.

“s… sarah, i think you should just wear this one” you called out in a whisper, making sure to add a forced chuckle at the end so you sound normal and not like you were about to cry a river.

you heard sarah whine a bit from the closet.

“why? i got it like so long ago so it shouldn’t be too big on- oh my gosh, y/n what’s wrong!” sarah interrupted her sentence in a shock gasp when she met your glistening eyes and slouch figure through the mirror when she walked away from her closet. immediately walking up to you in concern at the sight of your clearly upset expression.

you shake your head at the blonde girl, looking back at the mirror with a sigh before you drop your head down again.

“it doesn’t exactly look so good on me s’all” you forcefully chuckled, not wanting to tell her about how you’ve been feeling about yourself for quite a long time so u tried to cover up your emotions, which is something your currently failing at by the saddening, concerning look on your lovers face deepening anymore.

“babe, what’s really wrong?” sarah asked you, her hands coming up to grip the sides of your face into her palms softly. petting your hair as she looked over your face which was going through so many emotions at once.

“i- i, i hate how my chest looks. i hate it so much, sarah. every single time i look in the mirror just even wearing a simple shirt i want to cry at how flat it is”

“oh, baby…” sarah whispers sadly, her eyes tearing up at the way you describe yourself. a big part of her feels guilty about this, how come she could never see her own girlfriend going through such a struggle about her own body? she thinks over and over again before pulling you into a bone crushing, comforting embrace.

her arms holding you so tight.

“my love, how come you never told me you felt this way about yourself”

and that pushed you over the edge. finally letting out the couple of tears you’ve been holding in since you first had put on the bralette. with a small teary hiccup you responded back to her question.

“i didn’t want you to think of me differently” you cried silently, sarah giving you one last tight squeeze before pulling away from you. “y/n, i would never look at you differently okay?” not receiving an answer she called out again once more.

“okay?”

you nod at her, her fingers coming up to rub away your tears that fell down your cheeks and from up under your eyes.

“y/n, i can't even begin to explain just how gorgeous and beautiful you are. you’re down right so incredibly gorgeous okay? i love every single inch of you and your body so much, baby. flaws and all, okay? and who cares if your boobs are small love? small, big, everyone is different and is born differently and that absolutely doesn't mean it's a bad thing or something to hate. and plus i absolutely adore your boobs. they’re amazing and you’re amazing. please stop tearing yourself down like this, sweets. it hurts me so much to see you hating something so much about yourself when nothing is wrong with you in the beginning. i know no one is perfect but i know for sure that you are, i love you so much baby”

at her little speech, you cried and practically threw yourself at your girlfriend. hugging her like it was the last time you would ever be able to do it. “t-thank you so much, baby” you were speechless but you managed to get the words out profusely against the skin of her neck.

“you don’t have to thank me, babe” sarah cried with as well with a little teary giggle escaping her.

sarah pulled away from you to intently stare into your eyes, her soft hands then coming up to the lacy bralette to take it up and off of you. you let her but not without timidly asking her why she was taking it off of you.

“b-babe, what are you doing?”

“showing you just how beautiful you are to me, y/n” sarah replies with her pretty, bunny smile on display as she tossed the piece of clothing somewhere in the room before making direct contact with your exposed breast, holding the soft flesh of the mounds in her warm palms. you gasp softly in surprise of the sudden, so good feeling of sarah’s hands delicately massaging your breasts.

“such pretty breasts,” sarah states with a sincere look on her face, pressing a gentle kiss at your lips before bending down to take your nipple into her mouth. her other finger tracing the unattended bud, not wanting to leave anything out.

“b-baby” you whimpered, moving a strand of hair away and out of your face so you could look down at sarah latched and sucking at your nipple passionately, to already find her looking up at you with desire, so so much love swimming in her brown irises.

she pulled away from your nipple with a loud pop.

“such pretty nipples,” sarah whispers, eyes flickering up to yours after the words left her lips. finding your face scrunched up in pleasure, “gosh, you just look so frickin’ perfect” sarah thinks to herself.

without another word sarah takes your unattended breast into her mouth. her hand gently grasping the mound of flesh while she sucks at your areolas. her tongue running over your hardened bud while she did so. a little hum leaving her lips when she hears you moan out again and again at the feeling.

sarah once more pulls away from you with a even louder pop than earlier echoing and surrounding her bedroom along with your little whines and keens. sarah backs away from you and stares at how her spit made the skin of your chest glistened, her teeth pulling in her bottom lip as she rubbed and toyed at your sensitive, hard buds.

“lay down pretty girl, we’re missing the bonfire this time.”

⚘ ˏ`୭̥*ೃ *ૢ✧ ⚘ ˏ`୭̥*ೃ *ૢ✧ ⚘ ˏ`୭̥*ೃ *ૢ✧ ⚘ ˏ`୭̥*ೃ *ૢ✧

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[alexwritesfiction]

you really know how to make me cry (when you give me those ocean eyes)

AO3

johnlock | tw suicide mention, swearing | fluff and angst | a/n: ignore typos pls

the one where lestrade breaks down and tells sherlock about how wrecked john was after sherlock's fake death, and it leads to a very wholesome confrontation.

Prompt: Lestrade has a bit of a break down and starts telling Sherlock about John after the fall; "you weren't here Sherlock! you didn't see him! you weren't the one who got drunk phonecalls in the early hours and you didn't run to the cemetery to see him sitting by your grave with his gun in his mouth!"

---

Lestrade really did work hard. Well, lately he hadn’t had to. Sherlock had come back, after all. And for that exact reason, he’d called his dear friend for a breakfast. That was, if John could handle Sherlock being out of his sight for more than five minutes. Greg could swear he was clingier to Sherlock than to Mary.

And he couldn’t even blame him for it. The dumb fool had given all of them heart attacks when he pulled the big prank. Greg had hated himself for not being able to save Holmes.

As he waited, he looked down at his wrist to check the time on, ironically, the same watch Sherlock had once given him. Or rather, Molly had on Sherlock’s behalf.

“Hello, Graham,” an all-too-familiar voice spoke above him, and he looked up to see Sherlock already sat in front of him. He'd become good at that; sneaking around.

“Before you say anything, let me tell you, I will let you solve cases from now on, but I do need a good murder every now then. Maybe you'll need my help soon enough,” he smiled in that know-all way of him, placing his hand on top of another on the table.

Greg couldn’t help but show his wonder at how Sherlock had known exactly what was going to happen.

“How did you- never mind. I shouldn’t even ask,” he said. If his nervous tics were anything to go by, Sherlock probably had him all figured out.

“Well, now that that’s over, I need your help,” he said, quickly and Lestrade almost fell off his chair at hearing that from him.

“I- you- what?” he asked again, and he could genuinely not comprehend what Sherlock had just said.

“I'm going to, ah, prank John,” he smiled a little wider. “I need you to help me pull it off,” his eyes sparkled and as soon as the words “prank john” had left his mouth, Lestrade had hit his limit.

He was done. He was so done with his friend not understanding just how much he had really affected everyone around him. He knew Sherlock didn’t expect anyone to care if he was there or gone, but people did. Just like that, Lestrade burst.

“Prank? A prank?” he said and Sherlock was taken aback by the belittling way he'd said. Greg stood up, almost spilling his beloved coffee. For once, Sherlock did not know why he was so mad.

“How much more do you want to hurt him? Don’t you think you’ve done enough of that after the big fucking Moriarty prank?” His anger was rising and he willed for himself to calm down, but he couldn’t imagine being so dense after solving so many mysteries.

Sherlock remained seated, a frown pulled upon his cupid’s bow. Why would people be hurt? In his idea of a world without himself, all that would change was that John would marry Mary, Mr. Hudson wouldn’t be annoyed and Lestrade would have more work and Mycroft would be the same. Why would anything change?

“I don’t- Lestrade, it's just a prank. It's quite funny, I imagine,” he tried to get the situation under his control, under his sense. He wasn't used to not knowing what was going on.

Greg started to leave after a moment, grabbing his coffee and his coat and walking away. Sherlock’s voice calling him stopped him in his tracks, and just because he’d uttered his real name, called him Greg for the first time ever. That effectively shattered him and gave him courage to say what he was about to.

“You weren't here Sherlock! You didn't see him! You weren't the one who got drunk phone calls in the early hours and you didn't run to the cemetery to see him sitting by your grave with his gun in his mouth!" he yelled, speeding back to the damned detective still watching him.

His face turned ghostly pale, and he was speechless at the confession. John- his John- had tried to- God, he had tried to not exist anymore. Sherlock’s mind was completely blank and running the fastest it ever had simultaneously.

This time, it was Sherlock’s turn to abruptly stand up and sprint away in the freezing winds, leaving a very unstable Lestrade right at the table, reeling from what had just happened.

On his way back, all Sherlock could think of was a world without John. How could that even be possible? There would be no Sherlock, no Sherlock’s world. Because, as he had come to realize it in his days of living without him, John was quite literally his world.

He could not think of the time before Watson, he could not remember his lifestyle, one without seeing john right after waking up and right before sleeping, and sometimes only staring at him sleep so peacefully. 221B Baker Street came into view rather quickly than Sherlock expected it to, and his feet led him right up to his shared room, ignoring Mrs. Hudson’s calling him.

He found John sitting on a chair, particularly, Sherlock’s chair, wrapped up in Sherlock’s favourite billowy coat. And he looked like he had no worried in his life in that position.

Sherlock almost didn’t wake him, debated ruining his sleep for a mere question. But he needed answers, or he would drive himself crazy with all the scenarios in his head.

“John! Wake up!” he urged, and something in his voice didn’t feel right to a sleeping John because he was up and alarmed in five second flat.

He flicked his head around the room, finally settling his gaze on Sherlock, with his lips pressed into a thin line. John had never seen Sherlock like this, all red nosed and red cheeked and so human. And although one could say that Sherlock Holmes was the most human version of himself around john Watson, it still felt ethereal.

The sunlight fell on John’s face such that he looked like an angel to Sherlock, his anchor to reality. But he would not let himself imagine what it would be like to lose his anchor.

“Was what Lestrade said true?” he spoke carefully, closely inspecting John’s face. He saw John’s face contort in confusion, and shake his head.

“He said, he said he saw you. In the cemetery, with your- your gun, in your mouth,” he spoke so softly that John had to strain his ears to catch onto what he was saying.

And once he did, he was taken back, and it took a full moment for him to process that Sherlock knew. He did not get scared of this, he could not because him finding out seemed like such a small pain as compared to the night he was referring to.

He’d gone insane without Sherlock’s little quips and remarks and him being around all the time and his mere presence came back to bite at him. It was a particularly awful night. He’d fought with Mary, over Sherlock nonetheless, but it had been meaningless as soon as he found himself drunk at his grave. He’d called Lestrade because he needed anything that would make him feel like Sherlock was there. Like he existed.

“I thought you died, Sherlock,” he spoke slowly, Sherlock’s coat still around him. He didn’t dare take it off.

“John,” he uttered and then he was right there striding towards his freaking other half. He didn’t know what fuelled it but right then he had a burning need to hold john, to feel him close, for him to be his anchor through whatever whirlwind of emotions he was going through.

John hugged him back just tight, as hard as he could, because god if he hadn’t dreamed of this since the very first time they giggled together at a crime scene. He didn’t know if this chance would come again and he was not going to let it go now that it was here.

“I didn’t know that you cared,” Sherlock said then, and he was terrified of the wet feeling on his cheeks that completely broke john’s heart. John hastily wiped them away because absolutely could not stand the sight of Sherlock being so vulnerable.

Mary’s words came back to him: “You care about him, John, more than me or yourself, and enough that you’re willing to ruin yourself over him.” He realized how wrong she was that night. Sherlock was not the reason John was sad sad, it was his absence. As much as he had hated admitting it to himself, Sherlock was his anchor to reality, too.

The two men stood sharing a moment there, neither of them needing to say anything. But then john recalled Sherlock’s previous words, about not knowing that john cared about him. He wanted to tell him he cared about him, that he could not go a day without seeing him.

But that was exactly was Sherlock was scared of. So, he said the only thing that fit perfectly:

“Elementary, my dear Holmes.”

-

taglist: ask/reply to be +/-

@metanoiamorii @thescatteredscribbles @little-boats-on-a-lake @talesofsorrowandofruin @w-l-ink @baguettethebooklover @euphoniouspandemonium @wannabeauthorzofija @the-writing-avocado @ink-fireplace-coffee @your-local-bi-disaster @a-completely-normal-writer @felonyfairy @cool-but-confused  @writing-is-a-martial-art @47crayons @weirdfishy @fiercely-raging-writer

moots: @sherlockisactuallyagaysname u might like this? 

[beewolfwrites]

The Oar in the Sand - Chapter Four: Guessing Games

@cheshiya @tenseoyong @szallejhscorner @something-more-original-please @ofsunsetsandpoetries @nek0dzuken @allozaur @serenzippity

I’m sorry if there’s any typos or mistakes in this. Some chapters are just harder to write, and I end up repeating words over and over haha. If you spot any, do let me know! 

As always, I’ll leave the AO3 link here. And I hope you like it! 

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

The Latin alphabet.

The message could be written in any language from English to Spanish, Czech or even Latin itself.

It could mean anything.

Unlike An, Headband or Pigtails, I had the advantage, and I could still save us. Except I had no idea where to start, and the steady pressure of the game was already settling on my shoulders like a thick fog.  

The Queen was smiling at me from the other gallows. I understood now, the way her eyes had lingered on me back in the reception. She probably hadn’t accounted for a foreigner to be here – after all, her game was intrinsically designed for native Japanese speakers. And yet that smile, the way the corners of her eyes crinkled ever so slightly; she was still confident.

And she should be. She already knows I can’t read morse code.

‘I don’t mean to rush you,’ said Pigtails, ‘but do you think you’ll be able to decode some of it?’ Her previous hope had wilted away, and she was now watching me with apprehension.

The message glared at me from the screen, nonsensical and confusing. The dots and dashes were swarming, melting into one dotted mass that darkened the room. My arms and legs felt detached, swinging from this noose like a doll. So many people had died. The teenage girl, the business man, Pink Scrunchie, countless players accused of being witches... I wasn’t able to save any of them.

And now, four more lives would be added to the list.

‘Stop panicking.’

I jumped at the sharpness of An’s voice. The dots and dashes returned to their screen. My hands and legs were still intact, still moving.

‘Take a deep breath and focus,’ she instructed.

Swallowing, I breathed in and out shakily. My chest felt hollow, and at the same time, it was crawling with jitters. ‘How can you be so calm? 何を知っている分からない.’ I don’t know what I’m doing.

‘Yes, you do. Chishiya brought you to the Beach for a reason.’

Chishiya?

That was why she trusted me?

I couldn’t hold back a bitter laugh; no matter how much I loved him, what he did at the Beach, the way he had almost betrayed me, it was still painful to think about.

‘違う.’ You’re wrong. I didn’t exactly have the vocabulary to explain properly, but I was sure they’d get the gist. ‘苣屋は私を使ってトランプの盗むしていた. それが唯一の理由だった.’ Chishiya was using me to steal the cards. That was the only reason.

An’s lips parted in surprise. Headband and Pigtails were whispering in low voices. I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but from their tones it was clear they didn’t think too highly of Chishiya.

‘So that’s what really happened,’ An muttered, filling in the rest of the blanks herself. ‘It was hard to believe Arisu could be capable of doing something like that.’ She shook her head slowly, processing the new information. ‘I suppose it no longer matters, since the Beach is gone now. But Chishiya still made a good decision bringing you to us. I’ve heard about your games, and I believe you’re more capable than you think.’

I remembered my conversation with Chishiya the day before the second stage, when he told me I would be good at Diamonds. Back then, he was wrong. Just looking at the dots and dashes on the screen, I knew this game was beyond me. And yet, it would be nothing more than a simple brainteaser for someone like him.

I wonder, what would he do? How would he approach this game?

I tried to picture his response to a morse code message. I tried to imagine his methods of breaking it down logically. But even so, it was impossible to understand how his brain worked. He was totally different to me. He was rational and analytical, able to uncover a solution to even the most complex situations. All I could do was notice things. I wasn’t Chishiya, nor would I ever be. And right now, was he wandering the streets looking for me? Probably not. Knowing him, he might have even gone straight to the Jack of Diamonds venue.  

No. That can’t be true.

He cared. I knew that. I’d felt his fingers playing with my hair whenever I drifted in and out of sleep during the night. I’d witnessed that unreadable expression of his when he first saw the bruises Niragi left. I’d felt his hands tearing me away from the balcony edge when...

‘If we were in a game together, and say, someone pointed a gun at me, would you do that? As in, would you stand back and watch?’

‘I don’t know.’

My vision glassed over at the memory. Chishiya, you...

You liar.

I rubbed away the tears and tried to hold my chin up higher. ‘みんな、ごめんね. 今大丈夫.’ I’m sorry everyone. It’s okay now.

There were only fifty-two minutes left. The Queen, who had remained silent this whole time, was watching on with a vague, academic intrigue. Despite the pristine neatness of her olive suit and her black shoes, she was relaxed, raising her delicate eyebrows as I looked at her squarely.

‘You said before that you might be able to answer some of our questions, so I want to make a deal.’

‘What kind of deal?’ Her eyes glinted as if I’d just proposed a new game – as if I’d made this even more fun for her.

The drawing of the gallows was still waiting, empty, on the second screen. ‘If we figure out this message and clear the game, you have to answer my questions.’

She took the time to consider it. ‘I suppose that’s fair,’ she said. ‘One of us will die here, so it hardly matters anymore. It’s a deal.’

I’d said those same words to Chishiya, and I had no intention of breaking our promise here in this library. With a little more confidence now, I analysed the coded message closely. Normally in a game of Hangman, vowels were a first choice because of how often they were used. But we could only pick two.

What’s the most used vowel in the Latin alphabet?

Most people would assume it was A, but if I had to make a guess, I’d probably say E. Lots of languages with a Latin alphabet, like French, Spanish and Italian, used words like el, es, e, and est. But if E was the most common vowel, would that make it too obvious a choice?

I chanced a look at the Queen. She was smiling, not in a manipulative or secretive way, but as if she was quietly supporting us from the sidelines. It was peculiar. There was a chance she had purposely avoided E because of how often it was used, and I wouldn’t put it past her – she was still alive for a reason.

So what’s the second most common?

U was a no-go. Out of all the vowels it was definitely the least popular. A would be far too obvious as well. It would have to be a gamble between I and O. There were just forty-eight minutes left, and there was no time to waste hesitating between them.

Pick one, pick one.

‘If it’s okay with everyone,’ I said, ‘I’m going to choose O.’

Pigtails and Headbands looked unsure, most likely because I kept switching languages accidentally. On the other hand, An was open to the idea, replying only with, ‘I trust you.’

I held my breath, transfixed by the dots and dashes before us.

A number of Os appeared, scattered throughout the message; two in the first line, three in the second, four in the third, and one in the fourth. The drawing of the empty gallows remained unchanged.

We did it!

Beside me, Headband exhaled a sigh of relief and murmured a subdued thank you. Much to my surprise, however, the Queen didn’t seem disheartened by our small victory. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she looked pleased for us.

‘A good choice to start with, I must say.’ She clasped her hands together, resting them against her blazer. ‘Unfortunately, you’ve used up one of your vowels, but you seem like smart girls. I’m sure you’ll do well.’

How could she be so happy?

‘Isn’t this a bad thing for you?’ I asked. ‘Aren’t you worried?’

‘Should I be? There’s no good or bad,’ she countered, ‘just two perspectives.’

She’s a gamemaster, isn’t she? She set up these games, and she’ll die here if we win.

‘But we’re your enemy...’

She smiled warmly once more. ‘I think you’ll find we’re on the same side.’

On the same side? I didn’t understand. It didn’t make sense at all. ‘What do y—’

‘Don’t bother.’ An took off her sunglasses, openly assessing the Queen. ‘She’s intentionally wasting our time.’

She was right. The clock was now on forty-seven minutes, and the Queen seemed to be particularly skilled at raising more questions than she answered. I could interrogate her about all of this once we’d cleared the game – some things took priority. I focused my concentration on the code, trying to find some kind of hint or pattern there.

.-.   ..   -.   --. / .- / .-.   ..   -.   --. / O / .-.   o   ...   .   ...

.- / .--.   o   -.-.   -.-   .   - / ..-.   ..-   .-..   .-.. / o   ..-. / .--.   o   ...   ..   .   ...

.- / -   ..   ...   ....   o   o / .- / -   ..   ...   ....   o   o

.--   . / .-   .-..   .-.. / ..-.   .-   .-..   .-.. / -..   o   .--   -.

From what I could see, the O in the first line was capitalised. It was a standalone word – usually that would mean the word was either archaic, or it was in another language. But the Os in the third line were even more curious. The morse symbols repeated themselves twice, with the Os hinting at what could only be either onomatopoeia, or again, archaic terminology.

‘What do you think?’ Pigtails asked.

My eyes scanned the repetitions in the third line. There was something off about it. Words didn’t usually repeat themselves twice in a row like that... unless they were poetic. It would certainly explain why the O was alone in the top line, and why this message was carefully constructed with line breaks in the first place.

If it’s poetry, I might have heard it before.

Headband perked up suddenly. ‘What about going with the most common characters?’

By characters, she must’ve meant letters. I still didn’t know what language the message was in, so I could only use the letters I knew rather than those with accents. Although, playing Hangman as a child, there were always certain letters that wielded the best chance of success.

‘Let’s go with M,’ I said at last. There was usually at least one hiding somewhere. The four of us looked at the screen in anticipation. My fists clenched at my sides as I willed for an M to appear in the mix.

The screen changed.

The wrong screen. A circle appeared below the noose in the drawing. The hangman now had a head.

I could feel the others looking at me, aware that they had put their trusted me and I had let them down. ‘I’m sorry...’ I told them. ‘I’m sorry. ごめん.’

A hand lightly squeezed my shoulder. ‘It’s okay,’ Headband said. ‘We’ve still got more tries.’

Pigtails stepped as close as the noose would allow. ‘This was going to happen at some point. And at least now we know which characters aren’t there. It narrows down the possible words.’

There was silence from An. Perhaps she was disappointed in me, or even regretting her decision to let me captain this game. I wouldn’t blame her if that was the case. I felt the same way, only my regret was stained with guilt too. If I couldn’t save the three of them, at least I would die too. At least I would get what I deserved.

I glanced up at the timer. Forty-five minutes until someone gets sent to the gallows. I couldn’t let it be them.

I can’t lose control of myself like this.

‘You’ve used up one of your ten consonants,’ the Queen reminded us, steady and composed as always. ‘As a word of advice, relying on an age-old strategy doesn’t necessarily work.’

Every time the Queen opened her mouth, she only confused me more. And judging from An’s response, I wasn’t the only one to feel that way. ‘Why should we listen to your advice? Our failure is your win.’

‘Maybe you shouldn’t,’ the Queen replied. ‘But I’ll leave it up to you to decide.’

She didn’t sound like she was purposely trying to mislead us, but that in itself could be what made it so misleading. Most people tend to gravitate towards common letters when playing Hangman – is that what she meant by an ‘age-old-strategy’?

In that case...

I took a deep breath. Maybe this was worth the risk. ‘I think we should try doing the opposite,’ I stated. ‘I think we should choose an uncommon letter.’ Realising I’d slipped between languages yet again, I tried to remember the words in Japanese. ‘逆が試みよう.’ Let’s try the opposite. ‘��アの文字.’ An uncommon letter.

The Queen could have purposely avoided using popular ones to throw us off. But if I was wrong, was it worth losing a turn? The bodiless head dangled from its noose on the other screen.

Only six chances left.

‘It’s worth a shot,’ said An.

Pigtails peered at us from the end of the platform. ‘Are you sure? We don’t have that many chances of guessing.’

I understood her hesitation. It felt like we were gambling with our lives, and I was the one calling the shots. And it was even worse for her as she was placing her life in someone else’s hands. ‘I know, わかてる,’ I tried to reassure her. ‘If it doesn’t work, we can try a different approach.’

Headband was twiddling her fingers again, although there was a hardness in her posture. A resolve to win. ‘It won’t be a waste, because we’ll know then that it’s the wrong strategy. I trust you two.’

It felt good to know they had my back, even if my previous attempt at guessing hadn’t worked. Maybe things would take a turn for the better? I exhaled slowly, trying to assemble the most unlikely letters. Q was definitely a contender. Z was again, too obvious, but X was hardly ever used because there were fewer words you could make with it. It was probably the most unlikely letter to appear in a game of Hangman.

Forty-three minutes ticked down to forty-two.

‘X.’

We waited with bated breath. Headband played with her fingers. Pigtails chewed on her lip. An clutched her sunglasses in both hands, her eyes locked on the message before us.

Please... please.

‘Relying on an age-old strategy doesn’t necessarily work.’

A black line appeared beneath the hangman’s head, his new body dangling from the noose.  

[neonun-au]

I realized I am illiterate and was supposed to write a summary lmao. U can write a bff to lovers fic too tho heh. Here's a summary: idol of ur choosing wakes up one day with the ability to see how many words are left before a person will die. You, their best friend, have 999. Idol has 100. Writing counts as words btw also based off this movie I saw long ago with will smith I think in it?? Maybe u know

I have actually no idea what that movie is hahah (but all good your previous messages were so funny and lovely and thank you despite your illiteracy lmao)

i sort of went....a bit ham with this i am so sorry lmao 

i also did not edit this at all it was pure stream of consciousness so if there are any typos take it up with my manager

47

Time was running out.

Would it have been easier, he wonders, to have had this ability sooner? To have been able to plan out his whole life--all of his words--from beginning to end? Or would it have terrified him into silence. 

Would he have had less regrets now, running through the rain-soaked streets in a breathless panic towards your old familiar apartment building. The numbers on his wrist dropping with each careless apology towards the people he keeps running into in his haste. 

44

It took too long to figure it out. Too many words wasted in the process--trial and error and trial and error and error and error. 

He always thought people were being dramatic when they talked about your life flashing before your eyes in the face of death. Moments of high tension, of extreme danger, projecting this film of memories through your mind’s eye. But he understands now. He sees. 

Not images, but words. Sometimes tender--words he will never regret. 

The first “I love you” he breathed into your hair in the middle of the night. Surrounded by the dark of your bedroom and bathed in the warm glow of your presence. 

All of the following “I love you”’s. Spoken in word, written in ink, spelled out by clumsy fingers against a phone screen. 

If he could go back, he would make sure those were the only words he had ever said. He could die happily, knowing that no words passed his lips that were not painted pink with the strawberry flavour of love. He would die happy knowing that’s all you ever heard from him. 

Not the “I wish we had never met” in the middle of a pointless fight. 

Not the “maybe we should just see other people”.

And definitely not the “I don’t want to ever speak to you again.” 

Those words were spoken by him, through gritted teeth and hasty thumbs--staining his life with the malice of them. With the regret of ever having spoken at all. 

Did he ever truly mean them? No. All of those words were a facade. It would have been so much better, so much less painful if he had stripped them all away with the truth. The only two words that really mattered buried under all of the feigned anger and hatred. 

“I’m scared.” 

He reaches the apartment building finally, drenched in sweat and rain, and rings your buzzer. 

“Hello?” 

“It’s me, please let me in,” his voice is frantic, quivering from cold and fear. 

38

“Johnny? What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Please,” he begs--hoping against hope that somewhere buried inside you there is still some modicum of love for him. Love or pity. He prays that something still exists that he hasn’t completely destroyed. 

The buzzer sounds and he swings open to door, racing up the stairs towards your unit. He knocks, waits, and the panic rises higher in his throat. Choking him with worry and fear. He didn’t have a plan, he never does. He wishes he did. 

You swing the door wide, lips pulled taut in a grim line as you glance over his dishevelled appearance, “Johnny what are you doing here?” 

“Stop,” he says, holding a hand up. “Don’t speak.”

“Why the hell not?” You gape at him, eyebrows knit in anger or confusion--or both. “You show up at my apartment soaking wet and entirely unannounced, and now you’re telling me to shut up?”

He sighs, running a hand through his damp brown hair. Thoughts reel in his mind, ‘a plan, Johnny, think of a plan.’ 

“I’m sorry,” he says, eyes wide and pleading. He takes a cautious step forward. If only he could just get inside. Just let him inside. Let him pass the threshold between you; break the unspoken barrier and let him in. 

“You should be sorry,” your words are dripping with poison, but he recognises the pain behind them. Your own counter drops with each syllable uttered and he prays that this isn’t how it ends. That your last words don’t have to be angry. He hopes that you can say something beautiful before the end--that it can be happiness instead of pain. 

But he knows he caused it, and he knows he doesn’t have much time left. So he remains silent. 

After a moment you shift back, granting him entry and he feels a surge of hope bloom in his chest for the first time since this morning. 

You stand, arms crossed over your chest, and stare him down, “well? What are you doing here?” 

“I love you,” he blurts the words out without thought. They had been gnawing at his tongue since he set out in the rain--thrashing around in his mouth to be freed and know that he’s in front of you, they break loose. Your jaw drops and eyes steel. Anger, confusion, hurt--a myriad of emotions swirling in their depths. 

He wants to reach out, to hold you, but he knows it would just end too soon. He would never get a chance to explain--to somehow communicate what you mean to him. What you’ve always meant to him. 

How much he has loved you even when he has hated you. Even when he hated himself. 

“Don’t Johnny,” you breathe, a warning. 

He wants to heed it. He wishes he could, but he doesn’t have any time. He can’t give you the space you want without running the clock down to the wire. 

If he hadn’t been so stupid he could have had more time, this could have been easier. But the regret is the least of his worries right now. 

“I love you,” he says it again. Softer, less frantic. His eyes darken as he meets your gaze. ‘Please believe me,’ he thinks. The love swells in his chest, rising beyond the panic, and he hopes you can see it swirling in his eyes. He hopes you can feel it as some ephemeral figure. 

If he can’t hold you in his arms, he hopes that the weight of his love can wrap around you as an unseen blanket. Enveloping your body in warmth and light--melting away all the anger you keep held tight in your chest. 

“Johnny,” you sigh, and he selfishly enjoys the sound. Despite it knocking one more digit off of your number, it’s like music to his ears. As much as all he wants to say is ‘I love you’, all he wants to hear is you whispering his name until he dies. Over and over, in light and dark--like a mantra. 

“I love you,” he feels emboldened, takes a step forward, and holds his hand out towards you. 

24

His soul sings, a choir of angels surging up from deep inside, as you take his hand after a moment of hesitation. You tug him closer and evaluate his face with concern, “Johnny, what’s wrong?” 

“_____,” he says, feeling like your name shouldn’t count towards his tally as it’s not a word. It’s a prayer. It’s a song written on the pages of the universe. It exists here and now and yet not at all, as you do. An all encompassing feeling--rising up out of the ocean of his soul like a great wave. 

He wishes he could tell you all of this. But he doesn’t have the words.

--

(OKAY i am stopping there i am....i wrote way too much soz) 

[ptersparkers]

angel (chilling adventures of sabrina)

summary: as the only pure mortal in the fright club, there seems to be an influx of interesting things happening in greendale that you are unaware of. a certain prince of hell happens to find that interesting. 

warnings: typos, probably.

a/n: ummm maybe i binge watched caos this past week and maybe i’ve fallen in love. i’ll let you figure that out. also this is my first time writing for caos (and not marvel, lol) so let me know what you think!!’ pls give feedback thank u. 

add yourself to my tasglist! 

ps: this gif is mine so if you use it, please credit!  

When all was said and done, Sabrina and Caliban had come to amicable terms regarding the shared responsibility of ruling Hell.

It didn’t take much convincing for Caliban to relinquish his prior ambition after learning his rule would end within a day, as the Pagans would have defeated him and taken Earth for themselves. Sabrina’s ability to show him the time loop she was once trapped in gave him a reason to quit the fighting and rule Hell on an equal scale, no questions asked.

Plus, he started to like the bleach blonde witch.

You, on the other hand, felt like you had missed out on the most important plot piece of the greatest film of all time.

While Harvey, Theo, and Roz had known about Sabrina’s secret since her sixteenth birthday, you were left in the dust about the shenanigans that went on around Greendale. You were truly the only mortal with no magic or witch ties, but the other four couldn’t say the same. Sabrina was a witch, Theo’s ancestor Dorothea often visited him in time of need, Harvey’s family had a history of witch hunting (which he does not partake), and Roz’s ability to foreshadow the future with a simple touch proved to be more useful than she had originally thought.

You were a mortal. A regular high school student whose biggest problems were studying for four AP classes every day while balancing cheerleading and other extracurriculars.

It wasn’t until recently that the strangeness came to light. What the Fright Club had failed to mention was that Sabrina had continuously hexed you in order to keep you out of harm’s way by leaving a small bag filled with her Aunt Hilda’s concoctions in your bedroom. It worked its magic when you slept, an invisible blanket covering your eyes that made their strange disappearances seem normal.

But it seems like that hex was fading. Sabrina neglected to change it out every other week due to being preoccupied by Caliban’s yearning, the Dark Lord’s agenda, and Lilith’s drama regarding Hell. Now you sat with wonder and couldn’t help but feel left out of a great adventure that your friends embarked on.

A month had passed since Sabrina and Caliban had made amends. You grew to understand the nature of it and the four filled you in on all you had missed with a guilt hanging over their heads. It was hard to hear and understand, but ultimately you couldn’t hate your best friends for wanting to keep you safe.

You knew not to question Sabrina’s whereabouts if you weren’t able to find her because she was most likely taking care of business down below. You still had yet to meet Caliban and the only information you gathered from him was what the gang caught you up on and Sabrina’s grievances whenever she felt annoyed by him.

“You know, this is all a weird concept,” you said. “I mean, I guess I always had my faith and doubt kept me guessing about what’s really out there, and it’s really out there,” you said, stealing a fry from Theo’s plate. The five of you sat in Dr. Cerberus’s diner and decided you weren’t going to do anything that wasn’t normal for teenagers.

“It still creeps me out,” Harvey admitted. “Hell was worse than I could’ve imagined.”

“Caliban’s got things under control and Lilith’s doing just fine being an advisor,” Sabrina said. “I don’t think she’s mad about the ruling situation anymore. Lucifer’s still doing his bidding but I think they’ve reconnected.”

“That’s...good?”

Sabrina chuckled. “Trust me, it’ll take some getting used to.”

“That is an absolute understatement.”

The door to the diner chimed while you fished inside of your purse for a quarter.

“I’m gonna go pick out a song, any requests?”

“You’re the music genius,” said Roz. You smiled and walked towards the front of the diner.

As you approached the machine and put the quarter inside of the slot, a tall man with sand colored hair loomed over you and watched.

“Can I help you?” you asked.

“Not really. Just observing.” You quirked an eyebrow, not recognizing his face despite knowing everyone in the small town.

“You’re not from here, are you?” you asked.

He chuckled. “Is it that obvious?”

“Greendale’s a pretty small town. It’s easy to spot someone who’s not a local,” you replied.

“Well in that case, I’m not from around these parts. Far from, actually.” He looked at your hand and then the juke box. “What song are you choosing?”

You pried your gaze away from him to look back at the machine and put the coin in the slot, choosing “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” before looking back at him.

“Satisfied?”

The handsome stranger looked at you and didn’t try to hide the face that he was checking you out by letting his eyes look at your body up and down. Not that you minded.

“Very,” he said with a sail try voice before walking around the corner. “The name’s Caliban.”

“Y/N,” you replied. You raised your eyebrow before walking back to the other four and sat down in your previous seat only for the handsome stranger to approach the table.

“Caliban,” Sabrina greeted. “What a lovely surprise.”

“Nice choice,” Roz commented, hearing the song play throughout the diner.

“That’s Caliban, as in the Caliban?” you asked.

“It’s good to know you lot have been talking about me,” he said, crossing his hands over his chest. “I decided to take a break from, you know, and come see what you love so much about Greendale.”

“She knows about Hell,” said Sabrina.

“Funny how I’ve never seen her there, or anywhere with you four, as a matter of fact,” Caliban replied.

“It’s a long story,” you said, sipping on your chocolate milkshake. “Not an important one, though.”

“Contrary,” he began. “You’re the first purely true mortal I’ve met in Hell or otherwise with no ancestral ties to witches or greater magic. That’s pretty important to me.” You blushed, not knowing what to say or do next.

“Is there a reason you’re here?” Harvey asked with a slight attitude. Caliban shifted his focus from you to him, which made your body relax a little bit.

“I didn’t come here for business or to whisk Sabrina away, if that’s what you’re wondering. I’m just here to see what makes Greendale so special, though I think I’m starting to see why.” Caliban spared no expense and was not shy about looking in your direction as he spoke his last statement.

“Don’t even think about it,” Sabrina said sternly. “You are not going to get any ideas, are you?”

Caliban chuckled and put his hands up in defense. “Whatever you say, Sabrina.” He began to walk away but not before turning around and winking at you. “See you around.”

Caliban walked out the door and you didn’t bother asking where he was going next.

“Dear Satan, he’s so annoying,” Sabrina said, exasperated. “It’s like he’s made it his personal mission to make my life, well, a living Hell for lack of a better term.”

“At least he’s not hellbent on defeating you anymore,” Theo reasoned. “I think he’s trying to get to know you a little bit better.”

“And he’s doing it by flirting with my best friend?” Sabrina asked. She put her head on your shoulder and and ate a fry from her plate. “You know I love you, right?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m not saying you need to stay away from Caliban, but you need to be careful around him. At least until we’ve worked together long enough for me to trust him completely.”

“Loud and clear, Brina,” you said. “I still can’t really wrap my head around this whole thing. I can’t watch horror films about Hell and witches the same ever again.”

The Fright Club laughed.

“It’ll take some getting used to,” Harvey said. “I mean, I was pretty apprehensive at first. Remember when Brina and I broke up and I spent every day at your place after school?” You nodded. “That’s when she told me she was a witch. It was kind of hard to wrap my head around until everything with the Pagans and angels happened.” You nodded, soaking in his words. “Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with feeling like you don’t understand. I don’t even understand most of it, if I’m being completely honest.”

“In think that’s enough food for me,” said Roz who pushed her plate to the middle. “Seeing Hell with my own eyes really suppressed my appetite.”

”Oh, shoot,” you said, looking at the clock mounted on the wall. “I have to head home and help my mom. I promised her I’d help clean the kitchen and I’ve got to be home in ten minutes. Can I pay you guys back?”

“Don’t worry about it. See you tomorrow?” said Theo.

“Count on it!”

***

You saw Caliban not long after your first encounter with him. The idea of him being the ruler of Hell (alongside Sabrina) was still a hard concept to understand and you weren’t quite sure if you were supposed to bow in his presence or not.

“Unnecessary,” he said when you asked. Caliban sat across from you at the local coffee shop, offering to walk you when you had caught his eye. You harbored a hot latte and he held a blueberry scone in his hand. “I think you mortals like that glory.”

You shrugged. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Hell doesn’t have formalities when it comes to celebration other than referring to each other by one’s title,” he explained. “It’s just easier that way.”

“You make it seem like Hell’s a relaxed place to be.”

He pinched a piece of his scone off at put it in his mouth, smirking at your statement.

“Oh, far from it. As righteous as demons are, we’re not that shallow.”

“It’s kind of hard to believe you’re made out of clay,” you said, taking a sip of your latte.

“Why do you say that?”

“I dunno,” you said. You reached over the table to poke his bicep. “You seem so real. So human.”

Normally, Caliban would’ve been offended by such a comparison. But he smiled.

“I suppose. I don’t question my creation. I accept it and try to live as adventurously as I can.”

“I hope to,” you said. “Getting out of Greendale, I mean. It’s my biggest dream.”

“You’d want to leave this town?” he asked.

“Well, yeah,” you replied. “I have nothing going for me here. I’m powerless and there’s no reason for me to stay where I’m not needed.”

To his surprise, Caliban felt his heart jolt at your comment. He was wordless for a moment.

“Where will you go?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Maybe somewhere on the west coast. Maybe I’ll still be in New England. College is the perfect opportunity to explore the world and come back home for a few weeks at a time.”

“This is where Lucifer fell, you know,” said Caliban. “The sacred place is hidden deep in the woods where there’s a clearing of rocks and stone. That’s why this place is driven by witches of the Church of Night.”

“I still can’t believe the Devil is walking among us,” you said, shaking your head. “My mom used to force me to go to Sunday school, and I suppose I did have faith. It’s all meta now.”

“Are you still a believer?” he asked.

“I kind of have to be, considering you’re here.”

Caliban smiled.

“Do Heaven and Hell ever interact withe each other?”

“Not exactly,” he began. “We’re on civil relations but don’t want anything to do with each other. They stay up there so long as we stay down here. I’ve never encountered an angel before.”

“You haven’t?”

“They aren’t allowed to come down to Earth unless absolutely necessary,” he explained. “Not really sure why but it’s one of their more important rules.”

“I think I have a headache,” you teased. All of this knowledge about celestial beings truly made your senses adapt to your surroundings in Greendale and you were more than aware of the fact that God was real.

“I should go,” Caliban said, standing up. “I need to escort some souls back to Hell and send some up north.”

“You mean not all souls who are sold to the Devil go to Hell?”

“Sabrina and I negotiated that,” he said. “No more soul-selling. The ones that preexist will be discussed by her and I, and we decide if the punishment is worth the crime. I don’t think someone who sold their soul for a good cause needs to spend all eternity down in Hell. That’s why she comes down there all the time.”

“Huh,” you said at a loss for words.

Caliban smiled. “I’ll see you around, princess.”

***

The next time you see Caliban was with the rest of the Fright Club. He was wearing a linen button down with several buttons popped open, exposing his bare chest with black slacks and white sneakers. His hair was tousled and you swore this was the most human you had ever seen him.

“Ambrose is being a little paranoid and wants me to check out the edge of Greendale for threats,” Sabrina said. “I think he’s just worried about me co-ruling Hell while living on Earth. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“You say that like it’s just another day in Greendale,” you said.

Sabrina shrugged. “I mean, it kind of is.”

“Well, do you need us to do anything?” Roz asked.

“I want you to come with me, if that’s okay. Harvey, Theo, and Y/N, you don’t need to come. I’m sure this is Ambrose being Ambrose.”

“Are you sure, Brina?” Harvey asked.

She waved him off. “It’s fine, really. Roz and I will spend a few hours making sure things are normal and we’ll meet back at my place for dinner? Aunt Hilda’s kind of expecting us.”

“Wouldn’t miss it!” Theo said enthusiastically.

Sabrina gave the group one last smile before she took Roz’s hands and teleported out of the room, which left the four of you.

“I can give you a ride, Theo,” Harvey offered before looking at you. “And you too. I don’t mind driving to the other side of town.”

“I can take her home,” Caliban said. Harvey looked at you and Caliban spoke again, noticing his hesitation. “Part of our deal was that I made sure her friends remain unharmed. That includes Y/N.”

Harvey seemed to accepted this answer and grabbed his keys from his pocket before bidding you a goodbye. He and Theo drove off in his truck before you and Caliban left in the opposite direction.

“So, uh, do you want to come in?” you asked, awkwardly standing by the front door after he insisted on walking you in.

“I don’t mind,” he said. You fumbled with the keys before opening the door with a shaky hand and let him inside. It was the first time you were letting a boy into your home (other than Harvey and Theo, but your relationship with them was strictly platonic) and you felt a little more nervous than usual. After figuring out you had liked Caliban more than you originally expected, there was nothing you could do to stop your heart from beating just a little too fast when we he was around. Him being in your house did nothing to help the situation.

As for Caliban, his usual overwhelming desire for a carnal relationship was nowhere to be found when he stepped into your house. He looked at the white walls decorated with family photos and admired the ones with you as a child. Caliban watched as you put the house keys in a glass dish and followed you to your bedroom.

It was odd, Caliban thought, to feel nothing but tranquility. He was almost always hyperaware of his surroundings and wary of demons and souls roaming past him in Hell, but it was just the two of you. Two bodies under one roof.

“My parents won’t be home until later tonight. N-Not that we have to do anything!” you added. “I just mean they’d freak out because they haven’t met you before.”

Caliban chuckled. “I wasn’t planning on making a move, if that’s what you were wondering.”

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

“Your room suits you,” he said. Caliban admired the photos on your nightstand and polaroids pinned to a brown board on the wall filled with memories from your past with the Fright Club and other friends and family members. He saw a stack of books beside your bed and a fish tank sitting by the window, your closet doors closed, and decorative pieces that highlighted your personality.

“Thanks,” you said, laying down on your best. “You can sit, you know.”

Caliban took this opportunity to lay next to you. When you felt the bed dip, you averted your eyes to the ceiling.

“What are you thinking about?” Caliban asked after a long pause of silence.

“How fast life changes,” you replied. “I wouldn’t have it any other way, but with all that I know, how can I keep all of this celestial knowledge a secret from my parents? The world is always doubting Heaven and Hell but I know the truth. I don’t know if being purely mortal is helping me out in this situation either.”

“You’re an innocent,” Caliban said, turning his head to look at you. “So pure and clean. Your soul has been untouched by neither light or night and it’s probably the one thing that’s going to save you in the future.”

You turned your head to meet his gaze. “I’m still powerless.”

“Maybe in one way, but not completely. You have no witchcraft magic but you have intelligence and intuition. You know not to meddle with things that aren’t of your concern.”

You were silent.

“What else are you thinking about?”

“How much I like spending time with you,” you confessed. “But it’s hard, you know. You’ll be in Hell most of the time and you’re made of clay, for crying out loud.” Caliban chuckled. “I didn’t really think you’d be around as often as you are.”

Caliban was silent.

“What are you thinking about?”

“You,” he replied. “I’m always thinking about you. I used to think morality was a disease, but it’s not. It’s a rationale, just like any demonic presence.” Caliban moved closed to you.

“I think about what love is and how I don’t know what it really means.”

“I think love means different things to different people,” you said. “I think it’s mutual respect and loyalty. It’s knowing details about someone, big and small. It’s about being together but knowing you can be independent. Love is hard and it takes time. Love is not instant.”

“You’re pretty wise for an innocent,” he said.

You laughed. “Maybe I’m just a hopeless romantic.”

“Maybe not.”

Caliban lifted his body to hover above yours, your chests barely touching as his eyes gazed right over your lips. You dared not to move and Caliban hesitantly leaned down further so that your lips barely brushed against one another, the goosebumps on your skin taking affect. Because you weren’t pulling away, he took it as a silent signal and pressed his chaste lips against your soft ones.

There was no spark. No magic and no fireworks. There was only you and Caliban, and there was no other way you would’ve wanted your first kiss to feel like. Time slowed down as Caliban relaxed by your touch and your hands roamed his neck. The cold outdoor air was replaced by the warmth of Caliban’s body and when he pulled away, he let his thumb stroke your cheek as he cupped the side of your face.

“You are, dare I say, an angel.

“That’s a compliment, considering I know how much you despise them.”

He laughed. “Perhaps I’ll make an exception.”

Caliban leaned down once more to press a tender kiss to your forehead and you closed your eyes in bliss, happy to accept the good that came with the craziness of the last month. You looked at his structured jaw and grinned at his loving gaze, letting out a tired laugh.

“Perhaps.”

[likelightningafterthethunder]

Like Lightning After the Thunder: Chapter One: Damned Smile

Fic Summary:

His breath wavered as he stared into Katsuki’s eyes. He knew he could get out if he tried. He could knock Katsuki out, hope that no one else would find them, and run back into the shadows where he belonged. Katsuki may have had him pinned down but he was in Denki’s range now and it would take little effort to send a charge through Katsuki to paralyze him temporarily.

It would take barely any additional effort to kill Katsuki.

As the sparks began to charge, lighting up the air around him, Katsuki refused to back down.

–

Katsuki always knew he was destined for great things.

He didn’t think he’d have to turn his back on all he’s ever known to get there.

Rating: T

Warnings: Eventual major character death, implied/referenced child abuse, psychological trauma

Other Tags: Bakugou Katsuki/Kaminari Denki, slow burn, alternate universe - canon divergence

Read on Ao3 (links to corresponding chapter) or read below

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Fic navigation to read the fic on tumblr 

--

Even years later, that damn smile haunted his dreams.

There was absolutely no reason for him to still think about the event. Everything had been taken care of when it had happened― injuries were treated, authorities alerted, information secured, and a press conference to tie it all up in a big red bow. There were no loose ends, no surprise second coming, no physical reminders of what happened lingering in his daily life. Katsuki would have labeled it as done, dealt with, and no longer relevant, shoving it aside in his memory so he could focus on actual important shit.

Except his mind had different plans.

When he was lucky, he could completely forget about the event for months. Other times, his dreams would be filled with nothing but that damn smile, taunting him with its silence. He could usually predict when the dreams would come― the anniversary of the event for example― but other times, it seemed like anything could trigger the memory. He once saw a bright yellow balloon and for the rest of the day, every time he closed his eyes he saw that damned smile, never wavering despite the curses and insults Katsuki spewed.

He wanted to forget it. He wanted so desperately to forget it. For the image to erase itself from his mind, for it to take the feelings away with it. He could deal with the anger, he could always deal with the anger, but when his memory reminded him of the wave of hurt and betrayal that nearly blinded him…

When his alarm jolted him from his sleep and freed him from the smile, he couldn’t get out of bed fast enough. He woke up drenched in a cold sweat, sheets singed and smoking lightly as he unclenched his hands, and Katsuki was, for once, very relieved that not all of his sweat was explosive. He slapped the singes a few times to ensure that all of the embers were put out before heading for the bathroom, cursing under his breath as he flinched at his own reflection in the mirror.

There was nothing particularly wrong with his appearance, if you didn’t count the dark circles under his eyes from a fitful night’s sleep or his clammy skin, but after being plagued by the smile, Katsuki could barely look at himself. His reaction to the smile made him feel weak, like he couldn’t handle himself and that there was something wrong with him. It was just a smile after all. There was no reason for him to react to it like a nightmare, no reason for him to lose sleep over it or to feel overwhelmed by emotions at the thought of it.

Yet when he saw the smile and saw how the corners of his mouth were tugged a bit too tight, how his eyes were open a bit too wide, how the only shine in his eyes were the reflections of light on tears that refused to fall…

Katsuki cursed.

The icy cold shower did little to help distract him from the memory, nor did his morning run nor the steaming shower he took after. He wasn’t supposed to head into the agency today, so he didn’t have any planned beatdowns for today, and yes he probably shouldn’t be hoping for it, but part of him hoped for a sudden emergency villain so he could distract himself by focusing on beating some villain’s ass into next week.

A few hours later when his phone refused to stop buzzing, Katsuki wondered if throwing his phone across the room until it stopped would be close enough to beating villain ass to work. He reluctantly decided that talking to people so they’d leave him alone was probably less hassle to deal with than having to replace his phone and distribute his new number (even if it would give him an excuse to ghost some of these damn extras).

A few individual texts and a group text were the cause of the buzzing. As the group text’s new message count continued to rise, he figured it would be easier to respond to the individual texts first. Just in case he changed his mind about destroying the phone.

Four Eyes (Rocket Legs): Hello Bakugou, this is a reminder about the upcoming Class A reunion. As the head of the reunion committee, it is my duty to ensure an accurate headcount for the event, and I have yet to receive your response about your attendance. Please ensure to respond via the following link by this Friday at 11:59PM. [Class A 10 Year Reunion RSVP]

Four Eyes (Rocket Legs): In case you missed the previous messages regarding the reunion, the event is March 28th starting at 7PM at the Shinjuku Hotel in Musutafu. If you need to rent a room for the night or the weekend, please alert the Shinjuku Hotel staff that you are part of the Class A reunion party by next Wednesday for an event discount.

Katsuki frowned. He wasn’t exactly looking forward to the possibility of being surrounded by all of his former classmates and even less at the idea of being socially obligated to spend the entire evening with them. At least when he met up with his friends elsewhere, he could always claim needing to leave early so he could make the last train or that work needed him to come in early the next day.

He closed out of the conversation, figuring he still had a few more days to decide if he really wanted to deal with his classmates for an entire evening.

Midoriya: Hey Katsugou! I was wondering if you’re going to go to the reunion? Tenya said the deadline to RSVP is coming soon and we haven’t heard from you, so I just thought I’d check in!

Katsuki: The fuck is Katsugou?

Midoriya: Oh sorry!! Typo!!

Midoriya: Anyway, are you coming?

Katsuki closed out of the conversation and moved on to the next one.

Shitty Hair: Katsuki! Are you coming to the reunion or not dude????

Katsuki: Fuck off.

Shitty Hair: Aww dude that’s no way to talk to your best friend, you know you love me!!

Katsuki: I’m blocking you.

He did not, in fact, block him. But he did close out of Eijirou’s texts.

Save for the newest text sent directly from Eijirou, all that was left was the backlog of texts in the group text. It had kept going off while he was reading the other conversations, so Katsuki figured it meant that everyone was either off for the day or on their lunch break.

Raccoon Eyes: guys!!!!! the reunion is COMING UPPPPPP!!!!

Raccoon Eyes: i cant wait to s

Raccoon Eyes: ee all of u guys again!!

Tape Face: lmao you saw us last week

Raccoon Eyes: yes

Raccoon Eyes: an eteRNITY ago

Raccoon Eyes: and like

Raccoon Eyes: kats left early so we didnt have everyone

Raccoon Eyes: so it doesnt count

Shitty Hair: Yeah Katsuki don’t leave early next time!!

Raccoon Eyes: we just have to hold him hostage next time

Raccoon Eyes: or like

Raccoon Eyes: AMBUSH him

Tape Face: i can always tape him up

Raccoon Eyes: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES

Raccoon Eyes: tape him to the wall

Raccoon Eyes: and then like

Raccoon Eyes: steal his wallet

Raccoon Eyes: cant get on transit w no moneys

Raccoon Eyes: ei and han hold him down

Raccoon Eyes: i run to hide his wallet where he cant fi

Raccoon Eyes: nd it

Raccoon Eyes: probs keeps kats tapped to the wall all night

Raccoon Eyes: free up his arms so he can have a drink????

Tape Face: explosion palms dude

Raccoon Eyes: oh u right

Raccoon Eyes: he can just have a cup w like

Raccoon Eyes: a REALLY REALLY long straw

Raccoon Eyes: make sure u tape him up w his hands behind his back

Tape Face: you got it

Shitty Hair: He’s in this chat guys he’s going to see the plan

Raccoon Eyes: whatevs we can still totally blindside him

Raccoon Eyes: ANYWAYS

Raccoon Eyes: ure all going right?????

Tape Face: ya I rsvpd a while back

Shitty Hair: Yep!! Wouldn’t miss it for the world!

Raccoon Eyes: what about u kats

Raccoon Eyes: kats???

Raccoon Eyes: KAAAAAAAAAAAAATS

Raccoon Eyes: k

Raccoon Eyes: a

Shitty Hair: I’ll text him separately

Raccoon Eyes: t

Tape Face: he probably has this muted lmao

Raccoon Eyes: s

Raccoon Eyes: !!!!!!

Raccoon Eyes: how dare u ignore us

Raccoon Eyes: after everything weve done for u!!!!

Raccoon Eyes: thought we were ur ride or die hoes

Raccoon Eyes: dont tell me ur not going!!!!!

Raccoon Eyes: im so offended

Raccoon Eyes: how could u do this to us kats

Shitty Hair: Maybe he’s at work today?

Raccoon Eyes: boo

Raccoon Eyes: how dare he prioritize wo

Raccoon Eyes: rk over us

Raccoon Eyes: his best friends

Raccoon Eyes: the suns of his life

Raccoon Eyes: the bit of happiness in the cold

Raccoon Eyes: cold

Raccoon Eyes: cold

Tape Face: coooooooooold

Raccoon Eyes: COOOOOOOOLD

Raccoon Eyes: thing he calls a heart

Shitty Hair: Lmao

Tape Face: its got a bit of warmth

Tape Face: most of it is his temper

Raccoon Eyes: boom boom POW

Raccoon Eyes: well while we wait for kats

Raccoon Eyes: help me pick some photos for the slideshow!!

Tape Face: are you doing only UA pics or some stuff since then

Tape Face: somehow iida managed to not specify lmao

Shitty Hair: The info email was like ten pages, how did he miss it

Tape Face: idk

Raccoon Eyes: ive got plenty for both!!

Raccoon Eyes: momo said pref UA pics but some new stuff is good too

Raccoon Eyes: show how far weve come n all that

Tape Face: oh cool let me get some opinions then too

Shitty Hair: Anyone have any pics of the camping trip from second year?

Raccoon Eyes: before or after todoroki and kats’ fight turned it into a icy hot springs

Shitty Hair: Both lmao but probably before it went to hell

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: ofc ive got us chillin in the springs

Raccoon Eyes: well most of us

Raccoon Eyes: kats u never get in the water w us :C

Raccoon Eyes: lets go to the beach next time!!

Tape Face: hed prob boil the water w you in it if you dragged him in lmao

Tape Face: spicy acid time

Raccoon Eyes: id like to see him TRY

Shitty Hair: Don’t tempt him lmao

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: i got like a shit ton more

Raccoon Eyes: should i send some of THE FIGHT

Shitty Hair: Maybe not

Tape Face: yes

Tape Face: well

Tape Face: depends on how many pissed off katsuki pics youre putting in lmao

Raccoon Eyes: OH

Raccoon Eyes: OHHHH

Raccoon Eyes: OHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Tape Face: ?

Raccoon Eyes: dude

Raccoon Eyes: do u have the POMERANIAN pic

Tape Face: o shit

Tape Face: image.png

Shitty Hair: I still think Katsuki should’ve taken that pup home

Shitty Hair: They’re matching!

Tape Face: image.png

Tape Face: i also have this one

Tape Face: when she tried to bite his nose off lmao

Raccoon Eyes: kats couldve named her king explosion murder

Raccoon Eyes: or just murder

Raccoon Eyes: p sure she wouldve tried to murder kats at least o

Raccoon Eyes: nce

Tape Face: lmao she basically tried when he found her

Shitty Hair: Maybe it’s for the best that he didn’t keep the pup

Tape Face: look what i found

Tape Face: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: AWWWW YES

Raccoon Eyes: LOOK AT USSSSS

Raccoon Eyes: we look FABBBB

Shitty Hair: Is that from the dance?

Tape Face: ye

Raccoon Eyes: guys what if we recreate that pic at the reunion

Raccoon Eyes: the fits?

Raccoon Eyes: immaculate

Raccoon Eyes: the pose?

Raccoon Eyes: perfection

Tape Face: hotel?

Tape Face: trivago

Shitty Hair: I’m down for recreating some pics!

Raccoon Eyes: yessssss

Raccoon Eyes: u have no choice either kats u gotta do it

Raccoon Eyes: wherever u are

Shitty Hair: Oh he replied!!

Raccoon Eyes: SWEET

Raccoon Eyes: what he say

Shitty Hair: He said fuck off

Tape Face: as expected

Shitty Hair: Lmao he threatened to block me again

Tape Face: thought he said he was blocking you last week

Shitty Hair: Yea exactly

Raccoon Eyes: HOW RUDE

Raccoon Eyes: as punishment for not paying attention to us

Raccoon Eyes: im gonna send this

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Tape Face: LMAO whend you make that

Shitty Hair: Is that Katsuki with a cat face and ears

Shitty Hair: Dude I don’t know if he’s going to kill you for that or for the pink hair first lmao

Raccoon Eyes: lmao made it just now

Raccoon Eyes: well MAYBE if he ANSWERED us

Katsuki: Delete it.

Tape Face: O SHIT

Tape Face: you summoned him

Raccoon Eyes: NO I WILL NOT

Katsuki: Delete it Raccoon Eyes or else I’m coming for you.

Tape Face: are you coming for the left shoes and shittin in them

Raccoon Eyes: NOOOOOOO not my shoes!!!!!!!!

Tape Face: its just the left shoes tho

Raccoon Eyes: BUT THATS MY FAVE SIDE

Katsuki: What the fuck are you two going on about?

Raccoon Eyes: DONT COME FOR M

Raccoon Eyes: Y LEFT SHOES KATS IM SORRY

Katsuki: I’m not coming for your fucking left shoes. Or any of your shoes.

Katsuki: I will be coming for you if you don’t delete that picture, though.

Raccoon Eyes: FORGIVENESS

Raccoon Eyes: I BEG

Raccoon Eyes: PLSSSSS

Katsuki: Delete the picture.

Raccoon Eyes: ugh fiiiiiiiiiine

Raccoon Eyes: its deleted

Raccoon Eyes: i wont send it to momo for the slide show

Katsuki: Good.

Raccoon Eyes: IF U COME TO THE REUNION

Katsuki: Fuck off.

Shitty Hair: C’mon Katsuki!! It’ll be fun!!

Tape Face: ya it wouldnt do if we didnt have our exploding star

Raccoon Eyes: ill send momo WORSE if u dont come

Raccoon Eyes: nd u wont know WHAT til AFTER

Raccoon Eyes: so PLSSSSSSSSSS

Raccoon Eyes: PRETTY PLSSSSSSS

Raccoon Eyes: PLS COME TO THE REUNION

Raccoon Eyes: ill spam u a lot worse if u dont show us proof of rsvp

Raccoon Eyes: pls kaaaaaaaaats

Raccoon Eyes: kaaaaaaaaats

Raccoon Eyes: k

Raccoon Eyes: a

Katsuki: Ugh fucking fine, I’ll do the RSVP now then.

Raccoon Eyes: t

Raccoon Eyes: YAY

Four Eyes (Rocket Legs): Good afternoon, Bakugou! I just wanted to confirm with you that I have received your RSVP for the Class A reunion. As a reminder, if you need to rent a room for the night or the weekend, please alert the Shinjuku Hotel staff that you are part of the Class A reunion party by next Wednesday for an event discount.

Katsuki: image.png

Katsuki: image.png

Katsuki: Four Eyes is watching the RSVP form like a fucking hawk apparently.

Raccoon Eyes: YAAAAAY URE RSVPD!!!

Shitty Hair: You know him, always dedicated to his work

Tape Face: sweet

Raccoon Eyes: are u guys getting rooms

Tape Face: yea musutafus too far for a round trip

Tape Face: esp since itll prob end late

Shitty Hair: I got one for the weekend!

Tape Face: wbu mina

Raccoon Eyes: booked a room already!!

Raccoon Eyes: kaaaaats wbu

Raccoon Eyes: u should

Raccoon Eyes: we could have a brunch or lunch or s/t thats just us

Raccoon Eyes: plsssssss kats

Katsuki: I’ll think about it.

Tape Face: better than a no lmao

Shitty Hair: If they run out of space or if you decide last second, you can room with me dude

Raccoon Eyes: awww why not a yes

Katsuki: I haven’t asked the other Four Eyes for the time off yet.

Tape Face: is this four eyes no4 or no15

Raccoon Eyes: four eyes no69

Raccoon Eyes: no wait

Raccoon Eyes: no420

Tape Face: haha blaze it

Raccoon Eyes: BLAZE IT

Shitty Hair: It’s number 7

Katsuki: Fuck you, I don’t have that many Four Eyes saved in my phone.

Shitty Hair: I’d be surprised if you had 420 contacts period dude

Raccoon Eyes: would b hilarious tho

Katsuki: Yes, it’s Four Eyes number 7.

Shitty Hair: I was right!!

Katsuki: Why would I ask any of the other Four Eyes for time off? They’re not my fucking bosses.

Tape Face: dunno

Raccoon Eyes: idk maybe ure secretly dating one a

Raccoon Eyes: nd have to confirm that its ok

Raccoon Eyes: ARE U SECRETLY DATING A FOUR EYES

Raccoon Eyes: U HAVE TO TELL US IF U ARE

Raccoon Eyes: URE LEGALLY OBLIGATED

Tape Face: o shit

Tape Face: scandalous

Katsuki: Shut the fuck up, I’m not dating anyone, secret or not.

Raccoon Eyes: thats what they all say

Katsuki: Whatever. I’m not dating anyone.

Raccoon Eyes: kats n four eyes no420 sittin in a tree

Raccoon Eyes: k

Raccoon Eyes: i

Raccoon Eyes: s

Raccoon Eyes: s

Raccoon Eyes: i

Katsuki: I’ll blow up all of your left shoes when you’re not home.

Raccoon Eyes: n

Raccoon Eyes: NO

Raccoon Eyes: IM STOPPING DONT DO IT

Shitty Hair: Hey what do you guys think of this photo

Shitty Hair: image.png

Tape Face: dude yes

Raccoon Eyes: AWWWW OUR FIRST BILLBOARDS AS PROS

Katsuki: Do we really need to send them pictures? It’s not like we fucking forgot this stuff already.

Tape Face: you can be a killjoy if you want lmao

Tape Face: im sure mina will send more than enough to cover for you

Raccoon Eyes: U BETCHA

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Raccoon Eyes: image.png

Tape Face: lmao why do you have a pic of katsuki throwing ei

Shitty Hair: I still can’t believe you did that bro

Shitty Hair: WITHOUT WARNING TOO

Katsuki: I gave you plenty of fucking warning.

Shitty Hair: Saying “I’m throwing you” AS YOU’RE THROWING ME is NOT PLENTY OF WARNING DUDE

Raccoon Eyes: im always ready to document golden moments

Katsuki: Shut the fuck up. We won the training exercise so what’s it fucking matter?

Shitty Hair: YOU THREW ME!!

Katsuki: Tape Face caught you before you could get hurt.

Shitty Hair: YOU /THREW/ ME!!!!!!

Tape Face: barely caught

Katsuki: Whatever.

Raccoon Eyes: im still impressed by how eASY u made that look

Katsuki: What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?

Raccoon Eyes: o look conveniently timed distraction photo spam

Katsuki sighed as he continued the conversation, commenting here and there on the photos his friends sent for judgement. In retrospect, he probably should have tried to talk to Shion first, since there was a chance she would have denied the time off for the reunion. Although, knowing her, she would have accepted just to force Katsuki into socializing. He opened up a new text message, figuring that if Shion did decide to deny the time off, he would at least have a screenshot to send to his friends explaining the sudden change in plans.

Katsuki: I need March 28th and 29th off.

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): Do my eyes deceive me? The great Katsuki Bakugou, asking for time off?

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): I’m amazed! Usually I have to ask you to take the day off!

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): Nay, not ask, but force!

Katsuki: Are you going to give it to me or not?

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): Depends! What do you need the time off for?

Katsuki: Class reunion.

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): Oh those are fun!

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): Fill out the proper time off paperwork and have it on my desk by Monday. I’ll approve the time off.

Four Eyes (Shitty Shion): Just keep your phone on you in case we need you to come in for an emergency, but I’ll try not to ruin your reunion with work.

Katsuki: Thanks.

Well, so much for an easy way out.

Katsuki pinched the bridge of his nose when he noticed that his phone had already accumulated another thirty texts in the past few minutes, no doubt primarily from Mina. He scrolled through the backlog, sending a few mostly empty threats when he saw photos he did not want projected for the entire class to see, freezing when his gaze met a pair of familiar amber eyes.

Shit.

In his scramble to close out of the photo, to escape the genuine smile that somehow was more haunting than the one in his dreams, he left the group text completely. He briefly thanked his past self; he’d impulse or rage quit the group text plenty of times before that this wasn’t unusual behavior. If he was lucky, his friends wouldn’t have noticed the timing of his departure and would assume he was just fed up with the notifications or the conversation.

Shitty Hair: You okay, Katsuki?

A weak laugh escaped Katsuki’s lips as he read the newest notification. Of course Eijirou noticed.

Katsuki: I’m fine.

Shitty Hair: Okay

Shitty Hair: We don’t have to talk about it

Shitty Hair: But if you want to, I’m here dude

Shitty Hair: I’ll tell the others that you left so your phone would shut up and not to add you back yet

Katsuki: Thanks. Really.

Shitty Hair: No problem dude

Katsuki put his phone down, silently praying for the smile to leave him alone.

When he finally laid down for bed that night, he repeated the short prayer, for a peaceful night’s rest free of the smile, of the hurt, of the pain, of the guilt.

But as always, the smile came.

[butiamlookingforlove]

Chapter VI

Previous chapter: here

👻 👻 👻 warnings: mentions of substance consumption; typos, and maybe you’ll end up questioning existence but it’s quarantine (and 2020) so what’s the difference huh

Also, this is probably my favorite chapter so far. 

      Now, taking a closer look, I wish I noticed the Fruit seller's influence on the park since his arrival. There is some type of respect (pretended, of course) and apprehension among everyone that coexist in his presence. Actuallly, during the last few months I saw him everywhere I went, but he was not exactly following me, he was doing part of my job.

      How did he manage to get to such a high position without me realizing it? How negligent have I been regarding the park that I ended up abandonning the things that are most important to me? How did I get to that point?

      At that sudden realization my body started producing cold sweat. I became apprehensive. Who the Fruit Seller honestly is?

     I found him one day going through a tiny door, a private room just for him. The bastard got his own room to sell his plants and I didn't even know.

          At that point, I started buying his drugs sporadically. My excuses for starting that habit are the same: "it's easier", making excuses to stay in that shithole and sinking even more has become my own coping mechanism.

         Even so, for unknown and unexplainable reasons, there was something inside me that saw the mistake I was doing, it always saw. My mind was divided in two: the one that could comprehend reality - and was able to tell that everyone had exchanged the honest happiness that my brother created for the park for a ugly distorted and numb 'happiness' based on the Seller's drugs - and the one that wanted to remain oblivious to everything, only paying attention to what I care to be relevant.

 Fuck it. I got inside his particular room. Before meeting him, I found myself in front of a long corridor. Its walls were covered with bindweed, which was from the same species of his weird plant, with it's remarkable purple fruit. A disgusting smell of burning plant filled my nostrills. I noticed the tiny fruit that he sold was shaped like a small sphere. Sarsaparilla is in fact a plant used like opium, its branches usually have small purple balls at the end joined as a circle-like formation.

         The bindweed made the environment feel like a tiny forest with its long, leafy branches. So then, I finally got inside the room where sales were held, full of plants of the same species: sarsaparilla.

The Fruits Maker is not like everyone else. The others are visceral, carnal, freaks looking for power over others. Him, on the other hand, is always in the shadows, watching. To be honest with you, maybe he is not so different from the others, he sells that hellish fruit to everyone, that 'place of happiness' is rotting with that purple mist. Therefore, he has power over everyone who buys his products, everyone who buys from him always comes back to buy more. What a fool I was, it is obvious that he is like the other pigs, the difference is that his thinking is wired on creating ways to extract from the lives of rotten people and not from the rest of the zombies.

Speaking of which, I'm not sure I know the tenuous difference between any zombie person and a rotten person. Both are zombies, some are static and others are almost animals; some believe that everyday life is the limit of their lives and there is nothing beyond it and others simply believe that nothing matters beyond this false and corrupt pleasure that this amusement park has become.

The Dream Room holds every type of corrupted pleasure you can imagine. This is where we all get together after the monotony of everyday life. It is here that we try to find something to "live" something close to what we idealized in our lives.

Going back to the present where I find myself reflecting, I believe I am avoiding my next decision. I don't want to look at that mask. It protects him from the residual toxins from the production of its drug, but underneath it, there is pure rot. The Fruit Seller cannot be human.

Before I turned my back on him, we were at an impasse: the Salesman told me that everything always works out at the end when I use the fruit, that I shouldn't think too much. But I hate it with all my strength, I hate the black and white of everyday life, I hate the sickly purple color of the drug. Because of that reason, I believe he's not human, what kind of person would say this to another: "ignore your problems and what bothers you by doping your brain", damn, everyone in that room mustn't have thought twice; they bought whole branches for the whole night.

I feel like there's nothing inside me saying not to use the drug other than the simple thought that it's wrong. I wish I didn't want to use it but, deep down, I know I will end up buying it. If it is not to find 'happiness', I tell myself that I should use it to at least shut my mind, though if this is the last reasonable part of my brain left, I'm scared for my own well being.

"- How long do you think you can take it?" - it was the Salesman's voice that scared me out of my thoughts.

"-...What you mean?" - was the answer I mustered while turning around.

"- You know, you won't be able to last much longer."

"-...I'm going to buy it..."

"-I sure of it, but I was referring to the fact that you won't be able to bear believing on that kind of belief for long."

"- Belief? Do I look like a religious person?"

"- You have the characteristics of a believer, yes"

"- ..." - at this point in the conversation, I could feel myself grateful that we were avoiding the moment where I'd end up purchasing the product, but I wasn't following where he wanted to go with this conversation.

"- Well, you believe that somewhere in this world someone can feel full happiness without using this fruit, I noticed that you are one of the only ones who keep up with this belief around here."

"-..." - I don't think I'll ever have an answer to that. Is it impossible to live in this place without any sort of belief? Is this what the Fruits Maker’ve been selling? The belief and ‘trust’ on the happiness delivered by his plants? Things fell into place easily inside my head, I agreed with what he said.

However, I can't elaborate much with the idea that everything we do and dream about is based on a belief. You can't live without beliefs. Whether they are the simple wish for a better tomorrow or fanatical beliefs about some day when there'll be an end for all of our suffering. That's kind of the way we live.

"- Please, I'll buy the whole package." - I said, taking the money out of my pocket.

👻 👻 👻

So, if this makes sense at all, I wanted to explain that this chapter was written before the first ones. So basically, the idea of this chapter popped inside my head and it had potential to be something bigger so here we are. Also, I’d like to emphasize that the themes of this fanfic (mentions of religious stuff, drugs) are part of the actual song, and video, since it inspired me to write all this and et cetera. and...I shouldn’t be explaining myself but u know, just to be clear lol

Thanks for readind, hope you enjoyed it.        :,)

[somekindofroger]

One Year of Love (Chapter 8)

BoRhap!Roger x Reader

 previous chapters: chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five, chapter six, chapter seven

Summary: Being friends with Deaky and the rest of the band, you didn’t show your interest for Roger, knowing that he wouldn’t care for you, and you not showing interest for him drove him crazy, big reason why you two had some arguments. Now, after a Freddie plan, you guys are getting along a little better ;)

A/N: SMUT SMUT SMUT (finally?) Ok, so notes, thanks for the support and all that over again, seriously, thank you very much, KEEP ON GOING U GUYS, PLS, IT IS SO IMPORTANT TO ME, you are awesome. Let me know if you’re reading, enjoying or whatever, feedback ;) slightly reminder: English isn’t really my native language so I am so sorry if there are many errors (some typos or sometimes I get confused with some words and only later, reading it over again I see the mistake. Also, grammar errors). I tried to make a good smut, but again some words are just not in my vocabulary yet, so sorry if it was kinda lame, I hope y’all enjoy it. Feedback and if you want to be added on the taglist just let me know. THANKS ONCE MORE, LY.

P.S.: special chapter to @my-bitter-blue, it is very slight, but the college part where I mention it made me remember of ‘“D’you need a pencil, love?” Bc I just love his fic SO MUCH, so I recommend y’all also go check it.

Words: 3.6k

           Roger kissed you back, his hands pulling your waist closer to his body, the kiss was getting deeper each moment and at some point he leaded both of you while kissing to a wall. You felt your back hit the wall, Roger’s body pressing yours against it, your hands were holding his hair. He kissed your neck, long and wet kisses on it awaking on you some lost fire. Your hands left his hair and went to his shirt to open it while he was still kissing your neck. His shirt was now on your kitchen’s floor, when he noticed he was shirtless he pressed your body against the wall even harder, grabbing one of your thighs on his hands and squeezing it, you could feel him getting harder. You took all of your strength to make the two of you away from the wall; you were trying to lead him to your bedroom. He followed your steps, you two still kissing, he wasn’t seeing where he was going because he was walking backwards and he hit some wall, he made some pain noise.

           “I’m sorry” you laughed.

           “It’s ok” and he kept kissing you but this time you were the one walking backwards, until you felt your body falling on the bed. You were on your bed and Roger was standing up staring at you, shirtless and breathless, his lips a little bit red, he made this stop to admire you. He came closer to you and touched your hips, playing with your pants until he pulls it down, you throw your pants across the room to help him. He was on you and started kissing you again, his hands were now playing with your shirt, when you felt them on your skin, under your shirt, he was going to take it off as well. Your hands embraced his body and were touching his naked back. You had to apart the kiss for a moment so you could take your shirt off and once you were just on your white lingerie one of his grabbed your inner thigh again, you could feel his fingers teasing you, you waiting for him to start the action. You wouldn’t let it cheap, he still had his pants on and you could tell it was quite tight for him, your hand went down on him to feel the volume that was quite big and before you could try to open his belt to take the pants out you felt his fingers on you. You were still wearing your pants, he didn’t take it off and neither got into it, his fingers were playing with you over your white pantie, slowly going up and down, torturing you.

           “You’re quite wet, huh?” he whispered in your ear, while feeling you ridiculous wet over him.

           “That’s how you make me feel” you answered him, smirking. He loved this teasing and as an answer his finger slipped under your pantie and you could feel his touch for real this time, you let a small moan out.

           “Love you still don’t know how I can actually make you feel” and he found your clit, making circle movements on it, making your breathing faster, he teased you by slowing down and making movements up and down and it was when you felt one of his fingers slipping inside of you. Another moan was out, his finger was inside and out of you in fast movements, you opened your mouth in an “O” to let a moan out and he kissed you right in the moment. He could feel your moans through the kiss. Another finger was in and now it was in a normal rhythm, his lips left yours and went to your neck. Wet kisses on your neck, your breasts, still covered with your bra – which he immediately took care of, also making your bra fly across the room – to your belly. You thought he was going down on you but then he returned his mouth to your breasts, his fingers still working on you. He sucked one and then the other, making you groan wishing for more, it was when you felt his lips leaving your sensitive nipples until your core. His face was now between your legs – just like you imagined some time ago – and you felt his tongue on you. God how he knew what he was doing. His tongue going up and down, teasing and torturing you, because he wanted to make you last. He stopped his tongue on your clit, sucking it and one of his fingers was back in, making fast movements.

           “Roger” you let a groan out. He smiled at the sound of his name on your voice full of pleasure. “I’m-” you started trying to let him know that you were almost done, but before that you already came, letting a loud moan out, his name coming out. You felt his smile between your legs. His face came up to stare at you, your back on an arch, your toes curled, completely naked and involved in pleasure thanks to him. He never felt that horny with just one view and he loved the view of you like that. Your breath slowing down. His face came close to yours and he kissed you, you felt your own taste on his tongue. Now it was his turn. You stood up and made him sit on bed. He saw the vision of you there, standing up right in front of him completely naked just after coming for him, that made him ache for you even more and you could tell that his pants were so tight and it was passed the time for you take them off of him, and so you did. You took his pants and underwear off at once, so he was finally free. He was so hard and only for you. You got on your knees, you grabbed him with one of his hands and made a first slow movement, he dropped his head back, in a sign of relief at least that he was getting something. You squeezed it a little more and made faster movements, his eyes were close, it was when you stopped and before he could open your eyes to see why you stopped, he felt your lips around him. First just licking the head as teasing him just like he teased you, then putting just the head on your mouth and then out. That was torture for him and you loved it.

           “(Y/N)” he groaned, his fingers rolling your hair, he tried to lead your head with his hand but he didn’t need to, you knew what you were doing. Then he was entirely in your mouth and he was loving it. The movements were up and down, first slowly and then faster. He called your name again and the way he called you only ached for him again, inside of you.

           “You are not done until I say so” you said, taking the control of the situation, something quite unusual for you, but with Roger was different, you wanted to show him that you were just as good as him, and you were just one of the other girls he shagged. You stood up once again, Roger still sitting on the bed, his feet on the floor, you put each one of your legs in one of his sides, letting him between your legs. You were sitting on him and you felt him getting inside you, you let your head fell behind with a groan of pleasure. Your hands were on his shoulders and his were on your waist, you started riding him, making movements up and down as fast as you would, his mouth searched for your breasts, both jumping according to your movements. You continued the up and down movements many times until he grabs your neck and pull your face closer to his so you could kiss. You were kissing while you were wildly riding him and both could feel each other’s moan during the kiss. It was when he stopped, grabbed you on your waist and made you fall on the bed with your legs open. He didn’t wait until be over you and also inside you, in a change of position. This time you could feel the weight of his body on you, your boobs touching his naked chest, he was inside of you, doing fast movements and your legs wrapped around his waist and your hands went to his back. While he was going inside you deeper you scratched his back, hopefully not strong enough to leave a mark later. He grabbed one of your boobs, squeezing it while putting himself even more inside you.

           “Am I allowed to finish, love?” he said with a hard breath.

           “Come for me, Roger” you said, feeling life you’re almost done for the second time in the night. He let it in and out a few more times until he did it once more to finish it. You barely saw his face when he was done because you were too busy feeling your own pleasure. He took himself out of you and threw him own body on the bed right next to you. His long hair was sweaty, just like yours, both of your breaths was out of control, you could see his chest going up and down trying to control the breathing and yours was just like that.

           “That was…” he tried to start.

           “Really something” you said.

           Both of you were done laying on the bed, right next to each other, both so tired that didn’t even think about going to take a shower, to get dressed or something like that. Not even Roger thought about leaving. You felt so tired and so weak after coming twice that didn’t even notice when felt asleep.

             You woke up with the sunlight on your face from the window of your bedroom. You opened your eyes and right next to you there was Roger. Naked. You remembered the last night events and winded your eyes, almost not believing on what happened. You were also naked, both of you just slept when came done, didn’t think about anything else. Roger didn’t seem like the type that’d like a morning chat after sleeping over or even seemed like the type that used to sleepover. You tried to softly leave the bed without waking him up and walked to your bathroom, you were going to take a shower, you grabbed the first clothes on your closet before leaving to shower.

           During shower you couldn’t avoid but thinking about the whole thing. So many things happened. How would be the relationship of you two now? Would you only be friends or would keep doing it? Would that ruin your friendship with John and the other boys? Did that mean anything? Did that mean anything to Roger? How would the two of you face each other now, especially in the morning after? That wasn’t really planed. You tried make the shower long, to give yourself time to decide about those things, but after some point you just thought that it was pointless to keep wasting water. You came out of shower and dressed up. It took you a while to leave the bathroom, getting yourself ready to face Roger. Then you left it and went back to your bedroom. Roger wasn’t there anymore, no sign of his clothes in the room or neither in the kitchen floor – you checked. He left without saying a word. That fucking broke you. How dared him to do that? If he wanted to leave just like that couldn’t he had done that last night? He really was so awful at the point of just leaving you there without even saying good bye? Were you two meeting up again? How would you face him without anger of yourself or of him, in a next time that you’d meet the band? You felt like you had just ruined something and that he did something really bad to you.

           It took you so long to admit your feelings for him and when you finally did that made you remember why you didn’t want to in the first place. You felt the urge to cry. You sat on the couch in your living room, your head between your hands, your hair falling on your face, you were holding up the tears, you wanted to yell out loud and break things, you were furious. And hurt. You liked him and that made you feel even more hurt. Was that what all the girls felt? Were you just one more of the girls?

           You heard a knocking on the door, you didn’t feel like opening it to see who it was but it kept knocking. You stood up and opened the door and on the other side there was a smiling Roger holding a box with two coffees and another pack.

           “I brought bagels and coffee” he said while letting himself in. You stared at him with a shocked face. He put the pack with the bagels on the coffee table and took one of the coffees, taking a sip of it “hm, honestly this coffee shop nearby probably has the best coffee in London.” And then he turned around to face you, you still were staring at him in disbelief.

           “What?” he wanted to know.

           “You are here.”

           “Of course I am, love. You really didn’t think that I was going to leave without even saying goodbye, did you? I just went out to get us breakfast.” You just smiled. Your heart felt like a huge weight was out of it. “I mean, I am honestly a cunt, but not that much” and you couldn’t avoid but laugh out loud.

           “Good to know that you know yourself very well” you said still laughing a bit talking about how he called himself.

           “Hm, I try” he smirked taking another sip of the coffee. “Here take yours” and he handled you the other coffee. “I didn’t know how you liked yours so I just took one like mine, strong and two sugars.” You took a sip of your coffee and it was quite good.

           “I like this way” and smiled in a way to thank him. You reached the bagels he bought. “I’m gonna get something on the kitchen so we can eat that with.”

           “Eat bagels with something? Are you out of your bloody mind? Bagels are pure, they don’t need anything else to be eaten with”

           “Don’t be dramatic; they are just as good with something else”

           “You are a sinner and are going to hell”

           “Have you ever considered drama school?” you joked at him heading to the kitchen, he followed you.

           “Hm, not really.”

           “Oh come on, you must have done something before being a drummer in a famous band.

           “Nope, born this way.”

           “You weren’t born famous, Roger.”

           “Prove me wrong” he came closer to you while you were opening the fridge to get some milk.

           “I bet you did something ridiculous in university and now you want to hide your past.

           “Try me.” You put the milk on the table and stared at him, thinking. But when you looked at his blue eyes all you could think of was when he was getting down on you.

           “Nothing comes to my mind” you lied.

           “Biology” he grabbed a bagel.

           “What?”

           “I studied biology. Well, short of, it’s confusing there was this time I was studying to be a dentist.”

           “Oh my god” you really laughed thinking about Roger being a dentist.

           “Yeah, yeah” he also was laughing.

           “I just can’t imagine you being in college and studying biology.”

           “I was quite adorable actually” he said with a mouth full of bagel.

           “Yeah, I bet” you gave him a funny look and he noticed what he was doing, you two laughed once more.

           That was really nice, the two of you chatting and getting to know each other better, making fun about one another and talking about your lives. He told the story of how the met Brian, who was looking for a drummer for his new band and he answered the ad, how Freddie became friends of the band Smile and then John showed up answering the ad to be the new bassist. He asked about you and why you liked Literature so much, what you wanted to do with it and more about your past. That was quite a morning.

           At some point you went to the bathroom, you were in there when you heard the phone rings.

           “Roger, could you please?” you yelled for him so he could pick up the phone. The phone stopped ring and you accepted that meant Roger picked up.

           “Hello?” Roger said.

           “H-hello?” the voice on the other side asked, it was a male voice, Roger didn’t recognize it. “Is that (y/n)’s place?”

           “Yeah, she can’t answer now, would you like to leave a note or-“ and then you showed up running from the bathroom (still with wet hands after washing them) signalizing Roger to hand the phone to you. “Hold on”

           “What?” Roger asked to you, in a whisper.

           “Give me the phone” you said, also whispering. He handled you the phone but before you could reach it he took it away and held it with his arms up, trying to keep it away from you, joking.

           “Roger!” you said out loud, mad at him, giving small jumps trying to reach the phone, he was just laughing. “Roger Taylor give me the bloody phone” you said serious and he was still laughing when he finally let you reach the phone.

           “Hello?” you said once you got to talk to whoever was on the other side.

           “(Y/N), it’s me. Matt” the man on the other side said.

           “Matt! Hi.” You said turning around from Roger, who sat on the couch. He noticed who was, he didn’t like it, but he pretended to not care.

           “I see you have company, perhaps I should call another time-”

           “No, no. It’s ok. You can talk.”

           “I hope I am not disturbing anything.

           “Of course not, Matt.” You reassured him.

           “I was thinking if we could have a break tomorrow together, you will have a break during afternoon from university, you said, and I thought that before you going back we could meet.”

           “That sounds lovely, Matt” you smiled with the idea. Roger didn’t understand what was happening but he was hating it. He was jealous. You and Matt settled the time and place and you said goodbye.

           “What the dork wanted?” Roger wanted to know.

           “Nothing of your concern” you let him know, sassing him. He made a face of who didn’t like it and you didn’t know exactly why but you felt complied to tell him “he wanted to meet tomorrow during my break.”

           “You’re meeting him? Shouldn’t you be like… studying?”

           “It’s during my break, Roger.”

           “Yeah, whatever.” And then he stood up from the couch “well, it’s time for me to go, love.”

           “Alright” that was all you said and you didn’t really want him to go. He headed to the door and you opened it for him. He was about to leave the apartment when he hugged your waist pulling you closer to him. He kissed you.

           “Be aware that this isn’t over” he said after kissing you and then turning away. He left.

             Roger headed to Brian’s place, he didn’t want to go home now, not after leaving your home.

           “Open the bloody door, Brian” he yelled while knocking on the door for the past 5 minutes straight.

           “Bloody hell, Rog” Brian said while opening the door. “What are you doing here?”

           “Can’t I see my mate?” Roger said letting himself in.

           “What do you want?”

           “Hello to you too, Brian.” And again Roger found himself on the couch.

           “Hi Rog” and Brian sat on the other couch, he looked tired. “How was your night?”

           “Well, I was left alone in (Y/N)’s apartment because apparently my friends completely forgot about me while I was in the bathroom.”

           “Oh come on, you always take so long in the bathroom fixing your hair”

           “And you still left.”

           “Was it bad though?” Brian asked.

           “Ooh” it was when Roger realized it. “You knew”.

           “What?”

           “You knew all that, that was why you left me in there alone.”

           “Roger, are you drunk?”

           “I bet it was Freddie’s idea” Roger had this thoughtful look and a bit angry.

           “Would you please make any sense?” Brian insisted, getting annoyed.

           “Me and (Y/N). You all knew we were going to shag!”

           “And did you?”

           “Well, yeah, but that’s not the-“

           “So what’s wrong, Rog?” and that made Roger stop. He stared at Brian. He didn’t know what was wrong. Nothing was wrong, he had gotten the girl, why was he in his mate’s place in the morning to talk to him about the girl he already got? It was when it hit him.

           “I don’t want to hurt her” he admitted. Brian had a serious look on his face, his hand covering his mouth, the finger moving in a way to show that he was thinking.

           “That’s something new even for you.” Brian started. “But if you don’t want to, I am sure you will find a way.”

           “But-“ Roger made a long pause, carefully thinking about the next words, to not show much about his feelings. But it was Brian, one of his best friends, he could be honest. “But what if she’s the one who’s going to hurt me?”

chapter nine

taglist: @itsanarrum @theinvisible-men @schniiipsel @my-bitter-blue @butterfliesflewaway @taylorroger-s @ma-ntequilla @roger-taylor-owns-my-wigg @b-r-o-s-k-i @rogerjustroger @allhailthedeakydo @xxcxrolinexx @killerqueenisthebest @brianmaysnailpolish

[honey-boyyoongi]

Oh, baby!

Reader x Yoongi | Part 45//??

Summary ➪ Min Yoongi, is a simple man. He likes his coffee black and iced, he enjoys his job, and he loves his baby girl. But what happens when the new neighbor, quite literally, drops into his life?

Warnings ➪ any typos are mine; mentions of slut shaming; toxic parental relationship;

A/n: Hey besties!!!! Did y’all miss me? Wow those were awful couple weeks. First and foremost fuck the rona and anyone who says that shit ain’t real. Second thank you to everyone that wished for me and my partner to get better I appreciated that! 💕💕 we are at an angst point my fellow besties. As always feedback is appreciated and if you want to be added to the tag list please let me know 💕💕 p.s. if y’all saw me prematurely post earlier,, no you didn’t ☺️💕

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Tag List: @unicornbabylover @halesandy @supernoonanyc @aianloveseven @hannahdinse8 @lyndseygoregasmxo @aunoiire @brbkpop @nochuwastaken @tinyoonsblog @borahae-reads @jinscharms @phenomenalgirl9 @yoongiigolden @girlwithluv0613 @yaboiithewreck @mint--yoongs @ysljoon @hyunjingin @yu-justme @damn-u-min-yoongi @lovelytaes-blog @so-da-1 @cruelsummer-s @seolaquotes @lovelgirl22 @dreamamubarak @leanimal90

Fic Masterlist

[tsukishhhima]

“I’ve got one word for you: sing-along!” - kurotsuki please

(featuring: Hacker!Tsukishima and Undercover Agent!Kuroo)

“I’ve got one word for you: sing-along!”

“What kind of lame password is that?” Tsukishima scoffed. He typed it in on his computer to check, and sure enough, the password worked and he now had access to all the classified information he needed.  

“It’s Oikawa, what did you expect?” Kuroo’s voice came back through the headphones, a bit scratchy since they were so far away. It was nothing Tsukishima couldn’t fix though, so he scribbled “headphone qual sucks fix it asap” on a random notepad nearby before looking back at the files.

“I don’t know honestly. While he does come off as a normal hot headed celebrity, no singer would steal million dollars in cash like that so there’s obviously something wrong with him,” Tsukishima frowned, not finding anything useful in the files. Most of them were just private pictures (a few very private ones that made Tsukishima cringe and quickly avert his eyes).

He’d been sitting at his desk for the past two hours while Kuroo was somewhere backstage at one of Oikawa’s concerts, and all he had to show for their hard work was… nudes.

Tsukishima briefly contemplated getting a glass of wine or even better, giving up on this whole thing in general. Maybe Oikawa wasn’t planning to do something bad with all that money, maybe he’d just stolen it in the shadiest way possible because he’d spent all his money on that flashy new car and didn’t want the public finding out…

But that was impossible, and Tsukishima knew it as he sifted through the files again. The fact that Oikawa had stolen all that money without anyone finding out meant that he’d had help. His own agency wouldn’t even had known but thankfully they happened to have an agent working near the exchange when it happened.

A beep alerted him that Kuroo had spotted something. “Tsukki!!!”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to use my real name..” Tsukishima sighed. “But what is it?”

“Did you know that Oikawa has a new bodyguard?” Kuroo’s voice sounded really confused, with good reason.

“What, no. Why didn’t we know about this? What does he look like?” Tsukishima quickly switched to another screen, ready to do a background search on this new guy.

“He’s hot!” came the reply, and Tsukishima wanted to slap him.

“Aww, are you jealous Tsukki? Don’t worry, I’m not into buff guys like him anyway, you know I like lean, pretty, blondes more-”

“Kuroo-san, I will actually slap you when you come back,” Tsukishima cut him off, grateful that he couldn’t see him blushing.

“Fine, fine,” Kuroo replied, although Tsukishima could practically hear him smirking. “He’s a little shorter than me, spiky hair, tan… and muscles, a lot of muscles. I should definitely avoid this guy, he’s the worst out of all of them. But if Oikawa’s hired another bodyguard then…”

“It means he’s up to something and wants to make sure no one kills his ass while he’s at it,” Tsukishima finished, entering all the information on his notepad for later.

Once he was done, he went back to the files, even looking at some a bit more carefully to make sure he didn’t miss anything.

And absolutely nothing stood out.

Half an hour later, Tsukishima was tired, cranky and still had not found anything important. His only source of amusement (if it could even be called that) had been Kuroo quietly singing along to Oikawa’s songs in his ear— Oikawa may be a shitty person but anyone would admit his songs were pretty catchy.

Tsukishima was reconsidering the wine when the next file he stumbled across caught his attention. It looked normal at first, some kind of document about one of the managers. But a closer look revealed that…some of the letters were missing?

“What was that?” Kuroo’s voice startled him a little.

“Oh… I didn’t know I was talking out loud. But I found something,” Tsukishima explained, quickly telling him what it was. “And some of the letters on the last line are missing. It doesn’t look like a typo.”

There was silence on the other end for a while, and then, “Tsukki, I got it!!”

“What? Did you figure it out?!” Tsukishima asked incredulously.

“Yup, the missing letters are: U R A Q T!”

The sound of muffled laughter hit his ears next and Tsukishima let out a deep sigh before getting up to grab the wine.

“You suck at flirting, did you know?” He asked coolly, taking a sip as he sank back into his chair in front of the laptop.

“Me? No, I think you just suck at flirting back, Tsukki,” Kuroo said, and it was a shame he couldn’t see Tsukishima’s glower.

“But it’s fine, since I know you’re crazy about me anyway~”

“Yeah,” Tsukishima huffed. “Crazy for liking someone as irritating as you.”

He couldn’t help the small smile on his face anyway, wishing Kuroo was actually here so he could pretend to ignore him, which would then cause Kuroo to try and kiss him as an apology.

Tsukishima would never admit that he loved it when Kuroo acted like a lovesick dork though.

Another half an hour went by like this, Kuroo shamelessly flirting and Tsukishima sipping wine while trying to figure out the strange document’s secrets.

The glass of wine was almost finished when Kuroo finally had something important to say, “Hey, I think that beefy bodyguard just left a room open, I’m going in.”

“What?!” Tsukishima hissed. “That’s not safe!”

He quickly tried to check the cameras that were stationed backstage but it was obviously of no use, since they wouldn’t have cameras around the places where Kuroo was snooping around.

Tsukishima cursed and waited tensely, fingers itching to be doing something; this was the worst part about his job. He hated feeling helpless while watching his boyfriend throw himself into a dangerous situation.

“Got it!” Kuroo’s voice startled Tsukishima and he clutched the headphones to his ears tightly.

“Got what, are you okay?” He asked, not liking the sound of Kuroo’s uneven breathing, as if he was running away.

“You’ll see, I just gotta-” his voice turned to static for a moment and Tsukishima actually felt his heart jump in his chest. “I might.. have been spotted so give me a second.”

“You… idiot,” Tsukishima got out, too worried to think of a proper insult. “Okay, okay, how bad is it? Do I need to send the agents on standby? Or…”

Tsukishima paused when he realized he couldn’t hear anything anymore, not even the sound of his breathing.

“Kuroo…..?”

There was no response.

Tsukishima cursed and tore his headphones off, about to throw them to the ground in anger before he collected himself and put them back on in case Kuroo contacted him. Just what was this idiot thinking?! They had been taught from day one to never make rash decisions like that, especially when there were potential threats around.

With a shaky sigh, Tsukishima tapped out a message on his laptop to let the others know Kuroo might be in danger. He then pulled up the notes from earlier and started going through every single database they had on people that fit the description of that bodyguard. It wasn’t a lot, but it was the least Tsukishima could do to help in this situation, so he threw himself into his work to hide the fact that he was absolutely terrified of what might happen.

“Hey….Tsukki… Tsukkiiiii!!!”

“What the hell shrimp, can’t you see that I’m sleeping?” Tsukishima grumbled, blearily opening his eyes as he realized he must have fallen asleep at his desk. He looked around for his glasses as the voice behind him spoke up again.

“Shrimp? Last I checked I wasn’t that much shorter than you…”

Tsukishima whirled around, forgetting the damn glasses and gaping when he saw Kuroo standing there, smirk and all.

“I… you… I thought you were Hinata,” he finally got out, still shocked and unable to yell at Kuroo for worrying him like he really wanted to.

Luckily for him though, Kuroo had always seen through his emotionless facade. He closed the distance between them and hugged Tsukishima tightly.

And for once, the blond didn’t protest.

“Sorry, Kei,” Kuroo said quietly into his ear, and Tsukishima cursed his weak heart for immediately turning into a blushing mess at the sound of his first name on Kuroo’s lips.

“I mean, not that sorry because I had to go in there to get the drive-”

Tsukishima sighed and pushed him away to look him over for injuries. “What happened to your headphones?”

“Oh.. funny story about those,” Kuroo laughed nervously as Tsukishima looked up questioningly from where he was inspecting a bruise on his arm. “They fell out when I was running and then I’m pretty sure someone stepped on them so…”

“Kuroo-san, I think I hate you,” Tsukishima finally said, dropping his arm and leaning back against his desk. He was relieved he wasn’t hurt, of course, but now all that previous worrying made him feel exhausted and 152% done with everything.

Tsukishima really needed to go relax in bed for a few hours. (Preferably with Kuroo).

“I told you to stop calling me Kuroo-san… but anyway I thought you’d be more happy about…this!” Kuroo interrupted his thoughts, pulling out something small from his pocket and tossing it to Tsukishima, who raised an eyebrow at him in return.

It was a small black flash drive, although it looked almost broken and really old. “What’s in it?”

Tsukishima looked up at Kuroo, and then was completely unprepared for the kiss that followed. He forced himself to relax and actually kiss him back Kei, don’t just stand there!

Kuroo was a good kisser, there was no doubt about it, so Tsukishima allowed himself to cling to him a little as he deepened the kiss, a low rumble of a moan sounding from the back of Kuroo’s throat.

It wasn’t as if it was their first kiss, after all they’d been dating for about five months now. But with their jobs and all the work they had to do, they definitely spent a lot more time solving cases than kissing.

When he finally pulled back, Tsukishima turned his burning face to the side and stuttered out, “What was that for? If you think that’ll make me forgive you…”

Kuroo only smiled and patted his head. “Eh, it was worth a shot. But anyway, you should really look at what’s in that flash drive.”

“It better not harm my laptop,” Tsukishima replied, still flustered but grateful to have an excuse to turn away from him. He sat down and inspected the drive before connecting it to the computer as Kuroo watched from over his shoulder.

A few windows opened up, filled with green lines of code. He paused, but Kuroo urged him to keep going so he looked at the code a bit more carefully, reading through each block, only getting more confused until…

“Is this… what they used to steal the money?” Tsukishima stared at the screen in awe almost, and then looked back at Kuroo who was grinning widely.

“Mhm. And with this and all of our own evidence, we can stop whatever Oikawa’s planning,” Kuroo stated proudly.

Tsukishima looked back and forth from the screen to his boyfriend for a few seconds, and then finally he stood up and gave Kuroo a rare hug of his own.

“Aww, you’re welcome, Tsukki~” he cooed, and Tsukishima buried his face in Kuroo’s neck. “Does this mean you don’t hate me anymore?”

“No, I still hate you a lot,” Tsukishima muttered. He’d chide him for his dangerous little stunt later, but for now….

Tsukishima smiled against Kuroo’s jacket.

This was more than okay.

[nozoroomie]

BQ or B final chapter: Japanese sweets & Tea

Here it is! Earlier than expected because this is the only time I'll have to upload it before Sunday (and I really didn't want to leave you all hanging with that too long;; ) :') I hope you guys like the end result, and I hope you guys forgive me for that rude cliffhanger I left last update. Please ignore any messed up tenses or typos, I did my best to get them all but there may be things I missed ;;;

Thanks for reblogging, liking, and any nice words left in tags or in the messages, and thanks for supporting my writing :’)! With this story done I can go back to focusing on NicoPana so please look forward to an update to that as soon as possible!

[A03] 

A week’s passed since then and her conversation with Maki went as she expected it to go. She admitted maybe Rin had been right with her statement that day at WcDonalds, but there’s no way she can act on them. She told the younger girl everything, about Nozomi and Eli’s awkward behaviour, the tension build up in the apartment and the part of the conversation she overheard. She tells her about her idea of moving back home, or possibly renting out a small apartment if she can find a way to get the money together.

Maki’s only response was she should talk to Nozomi and Eli. A funny statement from her, considering how hard it used to be for her to be honest. She briefly wondered if Maki had gotten better at being honest with her feelings, but the thought didn’t last long when she remembered her advice. Talking with Nozomi and Eli sounded like it’d be easy enough, but how would she even start that conversation.

‘Hey Nozomi, Eli, I kinda want to talk to you about all the awkward things going on, think we can talk about what you guys are hiding from me?’ Nico almost rolls her eyes at the thought. If it were that easy, she would have done it days ago.

She’s finishing up in the bath now, sighing to herself as the hot water drains and she dries herself off with the towel. She ties her hair up and slips into clothes she set out for herself, slipping her cardigan on last before stepping out of the bathroom. Steam leaves the room and she steps out into the hallway, shivering from the difference in temperature. She walks towards the living room and greets her roommates with a wave.

She steps into the room and notices both Eli and Nozomi are sitting at the coffee table, talking with themselves. Nico’s noticed ever since she overheard the conversation, the two of them have been closer. It’s a if those days of sitting a space apart from each other and awkward conversations never happened. She notices how their hands are stretched across the table, their fingers slightly entangled with one another. It piques her curiosity, but she doesn’t comment on it as she takes a seat with them at the table, not catching what they were talking about but definitely gaining their attention. They flash her quick smiles and Nico tries not to narrow her eyes. There’s something unsettling about them- they’re completely different from how they were at dinner time. Are they nervous?

“Welcome back, Nicocchi.” Nozomi greets, “We saw some of the girls today and Honoka-chan gave us some of her family’s sweets, so we saved them as an after dinner snack. Would you like some?”

Japanese sweets after a nice warm bath? Nico would love nothing more. She quickly says yes and Eli doesn’t hesitate to pour her a cup of tea as Nozomi gives her a plate with a few sweets on it. Nico thanks them and takes a bite of one of them, making a pleasant sound after the first bite. She can feel the gazes of Nozomi and Eli on her and she peers over to them, narrowing her eyes a bit as she glances between them.

“What is it?” She asks, unsure of if she actually wants to know.

Eli opens her mouth but it’s Nozomi who speaks.

“Nothing really Nicocchi. Why do you ask?”

Nico knows that tone of voice. They know something she doesn’t. Nico frowns and puts her food down, looking at the two of them. Remembering Maki’s advice, she takes Nozomi’s question as the opportunity to voice her thoughts.

“You’ve both been acting weird. What aren’t you telling me?” She asks in a flat voice.

Nozomi and Eli lock gazes for a moment and Eli speaks this time.

“How so?”

“Really?” She raises an eyebrow at Eli and puts her manju down. “You both don’t think you’ve been behaving weird the last few weeks?”

They’re quiet for a moment, contemplating what to say. Nico waits, grabbing her cup and taking a small sip of her tea. Eli does the same as Nozomi speaks.

“We saw Maki-chan with the others today,” she changes the subject, causing Nico to frown.

“Did you?” Nico asks, moving her cup away from her. Normally, she wouldn’t humour this and force the two of them back to their previous topic of conversation, but Eli cuts her off before she can do that.

“We did. She seemed glad to see us, because she told us that you had something you wanted to talk with us about.” Eli’s words are hitting her like a hammer to the head of a nail and Nico can feel the unsettling feeling creeping over her.

“O-okay. Well, she’s wrong, there isn’t anythin-”

“Nicocchi,” Nozomi calls her name sadly, cutting her off and grabbing her full attention. “Maki-chan mentioned you were thinking about moving back home. Is this true?”

Nico pales. How is she supposed to respond? Knowing Maki, she probably told them just enough to get themselves involved. If they know she was thinking about moving back home, there’s no way she can lie herself out of this conversation.

“Y..yeah.. About that...” Nico lets her voice trail off, wondering how to begin.

The other two don’t say a word, but look at her with sad eyes. Nico can’t bring herself to look at either of them as she looks at the table. She waits a moment before going on to tell them the truth.

“It’s not hard to tell you guys have been having some kind of issues. I noticed but tried to hide that, since your relationship isn’t really any of my business, you know? I was being polite, I guess. It’s not something I should get involved in. Even though I wanted to- I didn’t.”

“So last week I got kinda thirsty. It was like, one am or something. I went and got a drink and when I was going back to bed I heard you guys. Well, I heard Nozomi. She was crying. It didn’t sit right and before I could see what was going on, I heard her ask you how... you guys are going to tell me. That’s it. I don’t really know what you have to tell me but then Eli went on to say you’ll look for places online and I left after that. I didn’t wanna hear anymore.”

Nico keeps looking at the table as she continues.

“I sort of put two and two together and realized you guys were going through something and I thought maybe the reason behind that is because I’m around all the time. You don’t have any time to yourselves, you don’t go on many dates, to be honest I don’t know if I’ve seen you guys do any pda outside small kisses and hand holding. So I figured, maybe if I left, your relationship wouldn’t be at risk and you guys would be able to have as much time with each other without me interrupting or anything.”

This is when Nico brings herself to look at both Nozomi and Eli, only to find heartbroken expressions on their faces. Eli looks awful- like she’s committed a huge felony punishable by death, and Nozomi looks as if she watched a puppy get kicked across the room. Nico can’t take it- it’s too overwhelming.

“A-anyway, I’m sure if I leave things will get better and you guys won’t have to worry about having no private time with each other.” She stands up, not wanting to stay in the suffocating atmosphere. “I’m just- I’m gunna go wash the dishes.”

She makes it to the kitchen in a few swift movements, heading straight to the sink. She begins running the hot water, grabbing the dish soap and squirting some into the now filling sink. She grabs the dishcloth and she can feel the sting of tears that threaten to fall. There’s the sound of footsteps approaching her and she sighs, wishing they’d let her have a moment to just clean the stupid dishes and calm herself down.

She stops when she realizes they don’t plan to leave.

“What?” She grumbles, turning to her left to see Eli. Eli swallows nervously and looks at her with concern etched on her features.

“Is that what you really thought?” Eli asks in a hurt voice.

“I-” Nico wishes she could take it all back but it’s too late now. She frowns, hastily bringing her arm up and wiping the small tears that formed with her sleeve. “Well, what else was I supposed to think?! You guys have been showing obvious signs, and with what I heard you guys say that night, how am I not supposed to believe it’s because of me?!”

Her voice gets louder as her worries consume her and she avoids both their gazes. Nozomi reaches out and touches Nico’s arm gently but the girl tenses from the gesture. Nozomi’s hand is still outstretched but she takes the step closer to her, not wanting to be pushed away like this.

“Nicocchi,” She calls, “That isn’t what we were talking about at all.”

Nico’s eyes glaze over Nozomi and she finds the older girl looking at her with a tender gaze. One that seems to understand more of the situation than Nico does. She feels infuriated by it and it only makes her angrier.

“Then what were you talking about? If it wasn’t about that then what could you have possibly meant with all your awkward behaviours and sketchy conversations?!” She seethes, uncrossing her arms and gesturing between Nozomi and Eli. “Unlike you two, I can’t understand what you’re saying through small gestures and touches, or glance of the eye. I can’t tell what you guys are trying to do. I’ve never had a bond like that with anyone until u’s and you two, and even now I still find myself out of the loop!”

She watches the hurt flash through Nozomi’s eyes and instantly regrets her choice of words.

“That’s-” She starts, trying to make up for the bad phrasing, “That’s not how I meant it- I just-”

“Nico,” Eli starts and her attention is brought away from Nozomi. She doesn’t look mad or disappointed, but there is a heavy tone to her voice. “You’re right. There has been some unsettling feelings between the two of us lately.”

Eli’s throat goes dry and she swallows, trying to find her words. She rubs the back of her neck nervously and frowns.

“We should have talked with you about it afterward. But It’s hard- we’ve never really been through anything like this before. It’s new and well-” Eli flashes her an uncertain smile, “We’re just trying to understand it is all.”

Nico’s hands shake a bit and she clenches her hands into small fists.

“Then just tell me! Let me help!” She shouts exasperatedly. There’s nothing but tension in the air as Nico sighs, her stomach twisting in knots and the words flowing out of her mouth unfiltered. “You two are my best friends. Living with you has been great up until all of this. If there’s problems in the house, you can’t just expect me to be able to avoid it all the time, you know? I don’t like knowing that there’s issues that you guys are trying to hide it from me, especially if I could be part of the problem.”

She can feel loads of stress being lifted off her chest. It feels good to say it outloud.

“That’s- well that’s basically-” Eli can’t even word herself right, she groans and puts her face into her hands. “This isn’t how I wanted this to go at all. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.”

“Elichi, it’s okay-” Nozomi starts and Eli groans.

“It’s not okay Nozomi, it’s a mess!” Her voice begins to rise and there’s tears in her eyes when she removes her hands “We’ve made Nico feel like this! We’ve done the opposite of what we wanted to this whole time.”

With Eli being as flustered as she is, Nico’s stress free moment is over. She looks in confusion to Nozomi, who seems to be the only one able to stay calm despite the flurry of emotions surrounding them. Nozomi looks from Eli to Nico, holding her gaze for a moment. She makes a decision by stepping towards Nico again and this time, she doesn’t try to move away from her.

“Nicocchi,” She starts quietly. “I want to tell you everything. I don’t want to hide it from you anymore, and I want you to know. But I need you to promise to listen until the very end and keep an open mind about it all, okay?”

An open mind about what? Nico’s tempted to ask, but at this point she’s tired. She’s tired, confused, hurt, and honestly now that some of her feelings were off her chest she could really go for a hamburger with a large side of french fries. She leans against the counter for some support and sighs.

“I will,” She promises, “Just tell me so we can fix this.”

It’s important to her that they know she wants things back to the way they were. The comfortable circle they began to have amongst the three of them is what they wanted from the very beginning. The months of spending time individually with each of them between classes, their shared chores and study time around the apartment, the days where they’d go out with each other just for a change of scenery. All of it is everything she’s wanted for so long. She doesn’t want this time with them to end, and if there’s any way they can fix this, she wants them to know she’ll jump at the opportunity.

Nozomi looks to Eli, who has her arms crossed and stares at the tiled floor below them. She’s nervous and lost in her thoughts. The both of them feel a little guilty seeing Eli so uncertain, and Nico gently nudges her with her foot to bring her attention away from the ground. Eli glances up and looks at her, a frown on her face and a few pieces of hair sticking out of place. Nico pulls her foot back and looks to Nozomi and with a bit of hesitance Eli does the same. Once Eli’s attention is on her, Nozomi starts to explain.

“You’re right; you’re involved in a way, but it’s not because of what you think.” She continues. “You think that the reason Elichi and I have been weird is because we’re fighting and you think we’re fighting because we don’t get enough alone time with one another. You thought that maybe if you left, you wouldn’t have to listen to Elichi or I asking you if we could leave. That’s what you were getting at earlier, right?”

Hearing it like that makes Nico’s heart sink, and she averts her gaze. Even if it’s only half true, she doesn’t confirm or deny Nozomi’s statement. Eli winces and Nozomi continues.

“You couldn’t be more wrong, Nicocchi. We can’t imagine our lives without you in them.”

“But-” Nico interrupts and Nozomi lifts a finger and puts it to her lips. There’s a fierceness to her gaze and she quickly closes her mouth, not wanting to face the punishment of interrupting her as she’s getting to her point.

“The truth is, Elichi and I have been a little dishonest with each other. We each had a secret that we were too afraid to talk about. I was scared because I knew what I wanted, but I didn’t know what to do-”

“-and I was scared because I was confused about what I wanted, and didn’t know how to feel.” Eli cuts in, sliding herself to the counter space beside Nico. Nozomi removes her hand and smiles through the heavy moment.

“That night I was crying because I was relieved, and feeling a little silly. In the end both Elichi and I figured out that if we had talked about it together in the first place, we could have helped each other out a lot faster. We did a lot of research, we talked about our feelings, and we came to a conclusion that made us both happy.”

She lifts her hand to affectionately brush some of Nico’s bangs from her face. Her fingers glide down her cheek and leave a burning sensation in their wake. Nico can feel the slight tremor in her touch and wonders how nervous Nozomi is actually feeling. She watches as Nozomi lets her hand fall further down until it reaches the hem of her cardigan. Nozomi’s fingers hold onto it in an almost shy gesture, and her eyes fall down towards them.

“The only thing we have left to worry about is how you might feel.” She practically mumbles.

Nico’s frustration grows and it takes all of her not to show that in her tone of voice.

“How I feel about what?” She turns to Eli to find the answer.

The taller girl has relaxes a bit, leaning most of her weight on the countertop behind them. She has a small hint of pink to her cheeks and she bends her head a little bit, enough to lean it on Nico’s shoulder. Nico sighs a little and turns back to Nozomi, who looks on with an adoring smile.

“We love you, Nicocchi.” Nozomi states clearly.

Nico stares at her a little dumbfounded. It’s the complete opposite of what she expects to hear. The knots in her stomach tighten and Nico swallows the lump in her throat.

“You... what?” She asks confused.

“We love you.” Eli repeats, lifting her head to look at her face. “Both of us do.”

She can’t believe her ears. Did they both just confess to her? This definitely isn’t a dream, Nico confirmed this was real the moment she asked what was up at the coffee table. She knew it was real from the anxiety she felt the moment Nozomi brought up the idea of moving back home, and the moment Eli got upset at the realization of how they made her feel. But the fact of the matter still stands- they both love her, and the fear she felt feeling something so strongly for the both of them at the same time suddenly becomes way less scary as she realizes the both of them are comfortable with the fact they’re in love with her too.

“Let me get this straight-” Nico starts, trying to wrap her head around it all and be sure she understands it right. “The reason everything’s been so awkward lately is because you both love me?!”

“Yes.” Nozomi and Eli say at the same time, Nozomi smirking a little from the irony of Nico saying she wants to get it straight.

“The romantic kind of love. The kind where you’d ask me to be your girlfriend and everything.”

Eli lifts her head and makes sure Nico is looking at her when she speaks.

“Our girlfriend.” She corrects, “we want you to be our girlfriend.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, unsure of how to react exactly. She wonders how they were able to come to the conclusion they both wanted to date her at the same time. Is that what the finer details to their conversation the other night was? Before she can stop herself, she breathes out a one word question.

“Why?”

There’s a small silence. Nozomi and Eli look between each other, wondering who should answer first. Nico feels stupid asking why, but she wants the validation. She wants to know this isn’t all just some fantasy inside her head. She wants more proof this is real and the confirmation that Nozomi and Eli really do like her in that way.

Eli stands straighter and clears her throat.

“You mean why do we like you?” She asks. Nico nods and she blushes a little.

“Maybe more like… what made you like me too?” she asks, uncertain if that’s something she really wants to know.

“Oh Nicocchi,” Nozomi starts, a small playful smile on her lips. “Are you trying to tell us there’s no way the both of us could be in love with the world’s number one idol?”  She pokes Nico’s cheek teasingly and Nico brushes away her hand, embarrassed. Nozomi laughs lightly before continuing.

“Maybe we should go sit down before we continue this conversation.”

Nico and Eli seem to agree. Nozomi leads the way out of the kitchen and back towards their small table in the living room. The cups of tea from earlier are lukewarm and waiting in the spots they were left in. They slowly take their seats, Nico glancing anxiously between Nozomi and Eli. She’s dying for someone to speak- the silence around the three of them is becoming overwhelmingly loud.

“I think that’s a hard question to answer. I feel like I’ve always loved you.” Nozomi eventually says, looking to Nico as she speaks “I may have loved you ever since our third year in Otonokizaka.”

“Eh?” Nico looks a bit skeptical at the other girl, her hands tightening into small fists in her lap

“The more I think about it, the more unsure I am.” She admits with a sigh. “I’m not sure what made me fall in love with you. It might have been your personality. Or the way you smile the moment either of us comes home from classes. You have a hard time waking up, but you always know how you’re going to spend your day and it’s cute watching you go over the plans in the early morning. It might be your determination and how when you set your mind to it, you do your best to accomplish your goals.”

Nozomi’s got that loving expression, the kind that Nico’s only ever seen her look at Eli with. She’s lost in her own thoughts with a small smile playing on her lips. There’s no mistaking it- that’s the smile of a girl in love and a girl who is happy to be in love. Nico’s heart flips once. She looks at Eli to find her gaze soft and happy. She’s content hearing Nozomi’s small confession. Nico wants to nudge her and grab her attention, but Eli is two steps ahead of her and continues from where Nozomi left off.

“It might even be your stubborn attitude. You’ve never given up, not for as long as I can remember. Even during our third year, while you weren’t actively looking for members for the idol research club, you still stuck by your idol rules. Without you, u’s wouldn’t have become half the idols they were at the time.”

Eli says it fondly, like she hadn’t been opposed to their group at the time. Nico almost sighs. Eli blushes a bit and continues to speak.

“I’m not the same as Nozomi. I don’t think I loved you in this way during our days at Otonokizaka.” She admits with a guilty smile, “I respect you a lot Nico. I learnt so much about performing and how to make the audience smile from you. And well, you also showed me how to put eyeliner on much better than I had been too. I know that’s not relevant to what we’re talking about but I felt it should be mentioned.”

Nozomi laughs and Nico smiles. It’s not like Eli was horrible at applying it in high school, Nico just showed her how to do it better. She loosens the grip of her hands and her shoulders relax a little as the atmosphere becomes a bit more comfortable.

“Going on,” Eli begins again, the pink on her cheeks practically glowing, “I know in the time we’ve been living together, my feelings for you have done nothing but grow. Sometimes my mind would wander when we’d be walking home from university together. I’d glance at your hands and wonder how they might feel in mine and I’d think about it for the rest of the walk.”

Eli’s hands are on the table in front of her and she plays with her thumbs as she goes on.

“I wondered so many different things that bordered over the line of friendship and it began to worry me the more I thought about them. The fear of losing both your friendship and Nozomi became a little overwhelming, so I’d try to stop those thoughts as they happened. I could never force myself to spend time away from you, so I just ignored every little romantic thought I ever had. At first it wasn’t too hard, it’d only happen occasionally, but the more I pushed the thoughts away, the harder it was to stop them. I knew it was bad the moment I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you.”

Eli squirms a bit in her spot and shyly glances to Nozomi, who only wears a sympathetic smile.

“A mutual thought, Elichi.” She says in a small sing song voice. “I can’t count how many times I’ve wondered that same thing.”

She looks to Nico with a half lidded gaze and a lazy smile and Nico knows she’s staring at her lips. She subconciously licks them and ignores the way Nozomi forces her attention up to her eyes. She glances away from Nozomi’s stare and looks at the table, processing the things both she and Eli have said. She furrows her brows a little bit and looks at the tea that sits an arms length away from her.

“But then what happened? I mean, I know what happened, but how are you both okay with this?” Nico asks with a frown. “How are you both okay with having feelings for me?”

They share a small smile.

“I had enough of awkwardly dodging Elichi and my feelings. The day I woke up next to you in your bed was when I knew I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I messaged Elichi saying we needed to talk,” Nozomi explains, “Of course, nothing is easy when you say something like that to your partner.” Eli chuckles a bit.

“I swore Nozomi was going to break up with me because she knew.” Eli recalls. “I was prepared for her to tell me she knew how I felt about you, get upset because I was unsure about my feelings and I called Alisa right after saying there was a chance I’d be coming over for another night. I don’t even remember the excuse I gave her when she asked me why, but I know it was very unbelieveable. She knew something was up.”

“Because you can’t lie to save your life when you’re flustered.” Nico points out and Eli nods.

“We waited about a half hour after you went to bed before going to our room and talking through it all. It was horrible.” Eli shakes her head. “I was a nervous mess, ready to jump at the first thing Nozomi was going to say. But she didn’t say anything. She kind of froze and we couldn’t look each other in the eyes. I was convinced we were going to break up and that scared me more than anything, so I went to grab her hand and ask her what was wrong.”

“I pulled away,” Nozomi adds, continuing the story, “I didn’t want her to hold my hand when I was afraid I was going to break her heart. I could only hope that Elichi would understand that my feelings for you didn’t mean I didn’t have feelings for her either. I love Elichi, I don’t think any of that changed when I realized I loved you too Nicocchi.”

They both sigh a bit and Eli shakes her head.

“But we talked it through. It was hard, but we eventually got past our anxious thoughts. Nozomi started crying halfway through her explanation and she kept apologizing. I felt so much relief I could do nothing but hold her and tell her it was okay, before explaining myself. We both cried. I think this might be the part where you overheard Nozomi asking me what we were going to do about it.”

Nico looks down sheepishly, feeling silly. Nozomi reaches her hand out onto the table, leaving it open face up. Nico stares at it for a moment before hesitantly bringing one of her hands up and placing it on top of Nozomi’s. It’s soft and warm and Nico loves the way Nozomi’s fingers close around her own.

“I’m sorry that you heard that part.” Nozomi apologizes sincerely. “We went to bed after that but we began to look at people who could help us and answer our questions. We had to search quite a bit but Elichi found something that fit exactly what we were looking for and we began to educate ourselves. We were happy and we decided we wanted to ask you to be with us, but then we met up with Maki-chan and well...”

The three of them are silent once Nozomi finishes speaking. Nico’s lips close in a tight line as she begins to think about everything. Everything they say is true. It’s true and they love her and she loves them and right now should be one of the happiest moments of Nico’s life, but all she wants to do is take the both of them and pinch them. She wants to scold them for letting such a silly thing get between the two of them and she wants to tell them both how stupid they are for making her feel this way too. She supposes that the latter part would be unnecessary, they really didn’t know, but that doesn’t change the fact she still wants to do it.

“You’re ridiculous.” She says, squeezing Nozomi’s hand. “I can’t believe you two. Seriously! You got me so worried about all of this I thought I needed to move out in order for you two to save your relationship. What would you have done if I had kept it a giant secret until the day I left?”

They both frown and Nico sighs.

“You two are hopeless.” She decides. “Seriously, seriously hopeless.”

Everything happens at once, she realizes. She’s started to cry, but she’s smiling. Nozomi lets go of her hand and moves from her side of the table, wrapping her arms around her. Nico lets her, leaning into her tight embrace. She can hear movements from where Eli was and it isn’t long before she feels the weight of Eli on her other side while she holds onto Nozomi, comprehending everything they just talked about. She can’t believe how opposite the feelings really were- how Eli and Nozomi wanted her to become something more in their lives instead of telling her they were ready for the next step of their own. She realizes, in a way they were telling her they want to take the next step, but they want to take it with her. They don’t want to continue their relationship together- they want to start something new, and they want it with her. Her heart beat soars as she finds herself burying her face into Nozomi’s shoulder.

“Nicocchi?” Nozomi whispers her name, rubbing her back soothingly.

Nico sniffles a bit and shifts in Nozomi’s embrace, cracking an eye open and glancing behind her to Eli. Eli’s got her arms wrapped around both her and Nozomi, and her gaze looks at Nico with a lot of uncertainty. Like she wants to ask about the elephant in the room, but she doesn’t want to ruin the mood. A quick look up to Nozomi shows a different gaze, one that’s put their feelings on the back burner and looks at Nico with concern and worry. There’s no hope in her eyes for any kind of answer, not right now. Her main focus is on the girl she holds. Nico sighs and buries her face into Nozomi again.

“Don’t look so worried. I’m not upset. I’m.. I’m really happy right now you know.” She mumbles into her. “Do you know how long I’ve loved you two?”

Eli inhales sharply behind her and Nozomi tenses a little. It’s news to both of them, which excites Nico. They’re probably staring at each other with wide eyes. Nico laughs a little at the thought and pulls herself away, looking at them with teary eyes.

“Well the answer is definitely a while. Probably. Stupid Rin made a comment about it and I hadn’t really realized what I was feeling was that.” She wipes her eyes with her sleeves and Eli’s the first to speak between her and Nozomi.

“You mean you’ve loved us this whole time too?!” She sounds exasperated, but happy. The kind of voice she has when she finally understands everything to the last detail. Nico almost laughs again but instead she sighs contently.

“I wouldn’t say the whole time, but yeah. It just sort of happened. I didn’t want to act on it because of obvious reasons. I mean, polyamory isn’t just something you can ask the two hotties you room with about, you know? Not to mention I was afraid of what would happen with our relationship if I even mentioned it, or what might happen with you two even and- well, I don’t know it just felt like something I’d never be able to tell you guys until we’re forty and I was past these feelings and you were both happily married for years already.”

Nozomi giggles. Eli’s face is bright red from the very idea of it all and she shakes her head, stopping herself from imagining the future and keeping her attention on Nico. She pulls her arms back and smiles fondly at the other two girls in front of her. She props her elbow on the table and rests her head in her hand as she watches Nico turn her face back into Nozomi. The way Nozomi’s face lights up only makes her smile more and she chuckles softly.

The three of them stay close and if it were possible, Nico would live in this moment forever. This moment of pure bliss and happiness, it’s the closest Nico’s ever felt to the two of them. She wonders if she should ask if this makes them all officially girlfriends, but the idea sounds silly. Instead, Nico grins and pulls her face away from Nozomi.

“So I guess this means you two are dating the cutest girl in school.” She says, her grin becoming a sly smirk. “You’re the luckiest girls around, not many people can say that they’re dating the one and only Nico-Nii! Imagine how great that will be once I become famous!”

“Hmm, or maybe you’re the lucky one dating the cute blonde who provided Haruka’s voice for the ‘Chin in Hand kisses’ trailer.” Eli teases, leaning in and taking her hand to grab ahold of Nico’s chin. Nico hates how her cheeks flush a bright crimson.

“Geeze,” she mumbles, “Maybe instead I’m lucky that Nozomi’s not a huge dork.”

“Arguable.” Eli counters and Nozomi laughs. Her thumb brushes against Nico’s lips and Nico swallows the lump in her throat.

“Or... maybe you’re just lucky.” Eli breathes, moving her face dangerously close to Nico’s.

Her heart races faster and Nico wonders for a moment if Nozomi is uncomfortable with the fact Eli’s about to kiss her. Eli’s lips are so close to hers that Nico can smell the vanilla lip balm she wears. She tilts her face up a little bit, hoping to brush her lips against Eli’s for just a brief moment. Instead, thanks to a certain someone from behind her, she’s gently bumped forward and her lips and nose crash right into Eli’s. Nico gasps and Eli winces from mild pain and behind them Nozomi makes a hum of approval. If it weren’t for the fact this was her first kiss with Eli, Nico might have turned to glare at Nozomi.

Their kiss is short lived and Eli rubs her nose while Nico takes in her post kiss moment with the taller girl. She turns to shoot Nozomi a glare but finds her staring at Nico like the cat that got the cream. Before Nico can even get a word out Nozomi’s lips are pressed against hers and her head begins to spin. She’s unsure if it’s because of how fast the second kiss happens or because of the way Nozomi eagerly presses herself to her, but it doesn’t stop her from smiling and returning the kiss. When they pull away, Nico takes a deep breath of air and ignores the small chuckle that comes from Eli, who leans forward to stop her from falling to the floor.

“Woah,” Nico gasps, “That’s- that’s something I’ll have to get used to.”

The other two laugh and Nico shifts a bit embarrassed, but happy. Sitting with little space between Nozomi and Eli, she doesn’t mind the fact that she and Eli are pressed closer together with their thighs touching, or that Nozomi’s fingers absentmindedly play with her own. Nozomi leans herself onto Nico’s other side and she nuzzles her face into her, humming contently.

“Let’s do nothing for the rest of the night.” She murmurs, “We’ll pull out the lumpy blanket and sleep out here, like we did when we moved in.”

Nico remembers the half finished dishes that sit in the sink and is far from opposed to the idea of finishing them. Nico can feel Eli twisting to look towards the clock. She exhales softly.

“It is close to bedtime.” She agrees, glancing down, “But I don’t really want to move.”

“Me either.” Nozomi adds.

Green and blue eyes look towards Nico and she stares back, narrowing her eyes at them.

“Really? You both put me through all that stress and now you’re asking me to get the big lumpy blanket?” She stares at them incredulously, but neither of them move. She huffs.

“Geeze, you guys are so lazy. Eli, Nozomi’s rubbed off on you way too much.” Nico scolds, but there’s no seriousness behind her words. She wiggles out from between the two and heads towards their room and opens up the closet, where they keep the large blanket until winter rolls around.

It doesn’t take her long to find said comforter. She wraps it around herself, fixing it so that her feet won’t step on any of the fabric as she walks. She shuffles back to the living room with care and immediately notices that Eli and Nozomi have moved the table aside and created a perfect bedspace for the three of them. Some of the throw blankets that rest on the couch have been laid out, and the three couch pillows are placed nicely in a line right beside one another. Nico heads over to it before falling to the floor, pressing her face into the center pillow and exhaling loudly.

“Eh? I thought I heard Nicocchi come back, but all I see is the lumpy blanket.” Nozomi comments from the kitchen area, amusement in her voice.

“I thought I did too... I wonder if she went to get pillows.” Eli adds, and Nico can hear the smile on her face.

She’s about to reply to the both of them until she feels the weight if someones head resting next to hers outside the blanket, followed by a happy sigh. She almost laughs as she recalls a very similar moment to this the first night they had in the apartment. There’s another weight added to her other side and she can feel an arm comfortably rest itself on her back.

“The lumpy blanket feels extra snuggly tonight, doesn’t it Nozomi?” Eli remarks, pulling the blanket and Nico closer to her.

“Mmhmm.. It’s nice and warm too~ Looks like the heating function works great.”

Nico decides its been long enough and she laughs, rolling onto her back and pulling the blanket off her face.

“Ah! there she is!!” Nozomi exclaims.

“God you two are such huge dorks.” She chides. “I can’t believe I like you both.”

“Me either.” Eli says wistfully, shuffling under the blanket and closer to Nico. “Dreams do come true.”

The other two laugh and Nico lifts the blanket for Nozomi, letting her slide underneath the covers with her and Eli. Nozomi drapes her arm over the petite girl and her hand finds itself just above Eli’s hip, resting comfortably there. She yawns and it creates a chain reaction, causing Nico to yawn and then finally Eli. They snuggle close, whispering goodnight to each other and closing their eyes, welcoming sleep happily.

[artificialqueens]

The Best Years of Our Lives (Trixya/Pearlet) - Ch 5

Hi, friends! I was gonna wait a couple days before submitting this, but I realized I had the wrong note before the previous chapter. My fault, I forgot I had decided to split the chapters differently at the last minute. Also the note had a typo, and it bothered me, so I wanted to try and get this out as soon as possible. Hopefully the audition part isn’t overly long, I actually cut a lot out of it since it wasn’t really necessary. 

Enjoy!

Trixie had done theatre for most her life. At this point she had to have been to at least twenty auditions in the past nine years. But, no matter how hard she tried, she was nervous before every audition. When she got to the auditorium, there were about fifteen nervous looking people filling out paper work, whispering the lines from the sides to themselves, and warming up their voices. Trixie rolled her eyes. She hated when people warmed up in public, because they were generally showing off. She especially took note to a red-haired girl who was warming up loudly, and obnoxiously riffing. She had warmed up on her walk to the auditorium.

Okay, Christina, you can stop now.

 “Trixie!” she heard Max call.

“Hey, girl.”

“How’s your foot? Are you going do the dance call?”

“My foot actually feels a lot better. I think I’ll be good!”

They sat next to each other as they filled out their paperwork and studied the sides they would have to read in the audition room. As Trixie mouthed the words on the sides, Max was called. 

“Break a leg, babe.”

“Thanks, you too!”

Max walked out of the auditorium smiling.

“I’m assuming it went well?”

“Exceedingly.”

Three or four people went in before Trixie was called. Some came out looking happy, one boy came out looking horrified. The red haired girl loudly told her friends about how great her audition was, and how she was pretty sure she’d get one of the leads. 

So she’s THAT kind of theatre kid… 

“Trixie Mattel?” she heard Ms. Visage call.

She grabbed her sheet music, took a deep breath, and walked into the auditorium. There was a table of three people. Mrs. Davis, Ms. Visage, and to Trixie’s surprise, Jay, the boy from the Gay/Straight Alliance. She felt like her audition went well.  Mrs. Davis and Jay both smiled through her audition, while Ms. Visage was unreadable. Just like every other audition, as soon as she left the auditorium, she started doubting herself.

“Okay, everyone!” Jay said. “Dance call next! We are doing A Chorus Line, so obviously, this show is very dance heavy. If you get cut in the first couple rounds, that doesn’t mean that you aren’t going to be cast.”

There were three rounds of dance auditions. Trixie was not worried about the dance call. She had been dancing most of her life. As each round passed, the tap combinations got harder. She noticed the girl obnoxiously warming up got cut after the first round, and loudly complained to her friend about how she should have been kept. Trixie and Max were both asked to stay all three rounds. They were both ecstatic, since no other freshmen were asked to stay past the second round. After saying bye to Max, she left her audition confidently. She looked at her phone to check the time when she realized she had been in her audition for almost five hours. She also saw a notification for two text messages. 

From: Katya Zamoksldjslkdf Fame informed me that the phrase is in fact, “break a leg”, not “break an arm”. I hope you broke every arm in the building ;)

From: Katya Zamoksldjslkdf Also! Text me when you’re done! Go back to your room and get cute, well cuter than usual. You’re always cute. I’m taking you out later. Don’t ask me where, it’s a surprise. I’ll come by at six.

Trixie smiled. She had never been on date before in her life.

To: Katya Zamoksldjslkdf Come on, not even a hint? I need to know how fancy I need to dress up.

From: Katya Zamoksldjslkdf Not super fancy. Just look nice

To: Katya Zamoksldjslkdf I have absolutely no idea what that means. So, if I show up looking like a bum, or completely overdressed, it is entirely your fault, madame.

From: Katya Zamoksldjslkdf lol, I can take that blame.

—–

“How was the audition?” Kim asked once Trixie returned to her room.

“Oh, I think it went okay. I’m gonna take a shower, that dance call was intense.”

After her shower, Trixie scoured her closet. In the very back of the closet, she saw a dress she hadn’t even taken the tags off. It was a light pink, flowy dress. Since it was going to be getting colder on campus soon, she took advantage of her chance to wear her new dress.

 “What’re you getting all dressed up for?”

She hesitated. “I have a date.”

“Really?” Kim said looking up from her phone. “With who?”

Shit, Trixie thought. “Oh, just some guy off Tinder. I’m not expecting much, but hey, he said he’s paying for everything.”

“Worth it. Hopefully you won’t get murdered. You look gorgeous, by the way.”

 “Thanks. So, what are your plans tonight?” Trixie inquired while doing her makeup.

“Oh, you know. Sitting here, doing nothing. Crying about how lonely I am.”

“Oh…”

“Just kidding! I have plans with Fame later. Have fun.”

To: Katya Zamoksldjslkdf Hi! So, when you get here, is it okay if we meet somewhere a little further from here? Maybe the residence hall that’s around the corner?

From: Katya Zamoksldjslkdf Of course, my love. I’m on the way now.

Trixie smiled at the use of Katya’s use of “my love”. She looked up at the sky and saw dark clouds forming.

To: Katya Zamoksldjslkdf Hey so since it looks like it’s going to rain, I can drive. You can tell me where to go. Like, you could say “turn here.” Or whatever. That could be cute, right? I think it was in a movie or something.

From: Katya Zamoksldjslkdf Well I’m unfamiliar with the movie. I’m hoping the movie didn’t end in a fiery car crash? What lot?

To: Katya Zamoksldjslkdf Lot 47, so the one just up the hill.

From: Katya Zamoksldjslkdf The huge one? Ugh. You’re lucky you’re cute. <3

Since Trixie had no idea how far away Katya was, she started her car, watching for her. Sure enough, not long after, she saw blonde hair in a black dress running up the hill, heels in hand, with a huge backpack on. Trixie laughed at the sight and got out of the car.

Trixie kissed Katya once she made it into the car. “Are you telling me where we’re going?”

“Absolutely not. Start the car.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“What’s in the backpack?”

“You’ll see.”

Once they were on the road, Katya started her instructions. “Straight. Left. Right, wait shit, I meant left.“

“Dammit, woman make up your mind!” Trixie said, making an illegal U-turn. “You’re gonna get killed!”

“Oh please, don’t be so dramatic. Okay, now down the questionable looking dirt path. I promise we won’t get murdered, at least we probably won’t. Turn left. Okay we’re here.”

Trixie could tell they were at a park. She hadn’t explored the town much, other than the campus, and she had no idea when Katya would have had the time to find this place. Once Trixie parked, they explored. The park was small, there were a few picnic tables under an awning. Near the awning, there were rusty swings that looked like they hadn’t been touched in a while. The whole park looked like it had abandoned. 

“How’d you find this place?”

“I have my people.”

“Why did we get dressed up if we were just going to the park?” Trixie questioned.

“I just wanted to see you dressed up. And, why not? YOLO, right?”

“You did not just say YOLO.”

A gentle breeze moved the tops of the trees. The night had fallen, and there was not a star visible in the sky.

Katya laid a blanket down on top of a hill.

“So, what else do you have in that backpack?”

“I’ll show you.”

Inside of the backpack, there was a bottle of sparkling grape juice and paper cups.

“Since last time, I know you didn’t like the wine very much… I still haven’t invested in any fancy wine glasses.”

Trixie smiled. “This is perfect.”

Katya and Trixie laid on the blanket, looking up at the sky. Even though there were no stars to be seen, Trixie still thought the sky looked beautiful as she sighed with content.

“Katya?”

“Yes, my love?”

“You aren’t… Mad, are you?”

“Why would I be mad?”

Trixie bit her lip. “Well, since I don’t want to tell anyone? About… us?”

“Of course not. When the time comes and you are ready, we will tell everyone.”

Trixie walked over to the rusty swings and at down. She was flooded with memories from when she was younger, mainly of getting written up for jumping off of the swings. She also remembered the time when she was seven, and split her lip from jumping off of a swing in the winter. Katya sat in the swing next to her.

“Let’s have a contest. Whoever can swing highest is the winner.” 

“You’re going down, Mattel.”

“Bring it, Zamolodchikova.”

As they swung, the poles started making loud squeaking sounds. Trixie didn’t care. She was having too much fun. They both made it to the highest point they could before the swing set started moving. Katya jumped off her swing.

Katya threw her arms up in the air. “I won.”

“Yeah, sure, we’ll go with that,” Trixie said as she jumped

off her own swing.

 Trixie looked up at the sky as a light sprinkle started.

“Isn’t this supposed to be romantic?” Katya asked holding her hand out to feel the rain.

“Hmm?”

“Kissing in the rain? It’s in all the movies isn’t it.”

Trixie kissed Katya. “What do you think? Does it seem romantic?”

“Yes, it does.“ 

They kissed again as it started to rain harder. 

[league-of-light]

Weekly Pick’em, Week 1 2018

HELLO FOLKS AND WELCOME BACK TO THE WEEKLY CONTENT TRAIN.  After two early morning shifts the content train was a little slow to leave the station, but a late train is better than no train.  

Anyway, let’s pickup where we left off last season, with one of our most beloved pieces: Dylan’s Weekly Pick’em featuring Special Guest NFL Sunday Night Football Presents Thursday Night Football Weekly Pick’em Featuring Samantha “Mas” Wettje.  This will run the same as it always has, but unlike last year, I didn’t actually ask them for picks.  I’m just gonna use out of context quotes.

Raining Champ vs I’m Back Bitches

A year ago, this would’ve been billed the hottest matchup of the century. Starting the season in a Will vs. Arielle brawl would’ve been content in it’s purest form.  However, Arielle is the savior of the league this year, so the mutual resentment has turned more into a PotatoStew Berry’s Love/Hate column.  Now Dylan, I have but 3 simple questions for you. 

1. Did you ever foresee those wild turn of events with Arielle and Leone?  

2. Who do you think is going to win this matchup?

3. Followup question to Q1, how did you know that was going to happen!?

Little typo there, I think you meant to say expect Dylan. But consider the pick locked and loaded.  Hard to imagine Arielle’s team could ever look as good as it does this year, but she freelanced out the draft and we have to respect the hustle. That stat should be updated to 1 for 8, but we can fix it in post.

Brady and the Bells vs. Let’s Get Tangible

I’ve begun writing this column at 8:30 in the morning, and seem to have forgotten to get breakfast today.  As I ponder this matchup, I have nothing but food on the brain. Naturally, Phil has Jared COOK on his team, which isn’t helping.  But you know what, let’s run with the theme.  Dylan, if you were at a restaurant, and saw these two teams on the menu, what would you pick?

Well, you heard it here first folks, dis man is picking Tangible for dis order of picks. He seems a little shaky on the pick, but there are 8 matchups this year as opposed to the 6 that he is used to picking for, so there’s bound to be some nerves. If I had to guess, the pick was likely made because Sean doesn’t have a starting running back, while Phil has the leagues only 3-headed monster RB committee.

Eric Decker Memorial vs. Pay Me Bitch

Okay Dylan, that last pick was made without any conviction, so I’m going to set the stakes a little higher for this one.  Hypothetical situation: You’re standing on Firendship Avenue, looking up at the apartment building where both your friends Kyle and Harnsowl live.  You look up, BOOM, there’s an explosion in the building.  Their units are on opposite sides of the building, you can only get to one in time. Now, channel those feelings, and make a pick.

WOW! Truly shocking stuff considering previous statements that Harnsowl is the worst league member, but I guess that’s the way the news goes.  Despite a poor performance from Devonta Freeman on Sunday Night Football Presents Thursday Night 99th Season NFC Championship Rematch Football, Dylan still thinks Harnsowl can come away with the W.

Nice to See U Guys Again vs. Quack Pack

Yes Dylan, you’ve been doing this for years now.  I’m not sure what the confusion is for this pick, you’ve made 3 others already today. If you don’t think you’re going to be able to make this pick, I can call in someone else to make it for us.  Honestly, I’m a little disappointed in you.  Your picks were a reliable source of content for this league, and you did a great job with the first 3, but now all of a sudden once the spotlight is on your matchup you can’t make the call?  Like I said, I’m not mad, just disappointed. 

Anyway, I guess let’s call in Bowers to see who he has for this matchup..

Ok, nevermind.

Hash Gordon vs. My Johnson Ertz

Alright Dylan, I know you don’t really know these guys very well, so I’ll set it up in another hypothetical for you.  Martavis Bryant just got cut from the Oakland Raiders.  He’s feeling down on his luck, he walks out of the Oakland Alameda Coliseum, and waits at a bush station. You, the bus driver, pull up to a disheartened Marty B.  You’re presented with two potential destinations: Steve and Costa.  You don’t know much about either guy, but Bowers has told you that Costa is a dirty evil pot smoking hippy who indulges in the Devil’s Lettuce.  Your pick for the matchup will influence Marty B’s life. You open the door to the bus, look at Martavis, and say.....

Caught up in the excitement I believe you meant to say Hash Gordon, but considering that Hash Gordon has Josh Gordon, I know what you mean.

Team Walsh vs. Noob Noob Angels

Now Dylan, I don’t want to influence the pick here, but there are some reasons swirling that you are locked in on picking Brenner for this matchup.  People in the League group chat have been talking all week, and some members have been quoted saying they know you are going to pick Brenner to win.  I don’t want the integrity of this column to be compromised, so please, give us your side of the story. What do you have to say about all of this?

WOW! A TRUE STUNNER.  IN A SHOCKING TURN OF EVENTS DYLAN BUCKS THE RUMORS AND PICKS WALSH TO WIN THE MATCHUP.

Bad News Bears vs. Reikland Reavers

I imagine this is the hardest matchup for Dylan to choose. Normally Mets fans are few and far between, and thus tend to stick together, but in this league we somehow have THREE.  Dylan, I know this is going to be a hard choice, but you need to separate the Mets Fandom and just make a true pick.  

I mean usually you would give the reasons why you think the teams were going to win and everything, but that’s an adequate answer for this week’s pick’em.

Watch Me Not TV vs Washington Guntakers

I’m going to be honest Dylan, I’ve ran out of a lot of steam with this content.  Let’s just make the pick here and then wrap it up with Sam’s picks for the week.  Who do you got here?

Beautifully said.

_________________________________________

Special Guest NFL Sunday Night Football Presents Thursday Night Football Weekly Pick’em Featuring Samantha “Mas” Wettje except this is being written on a Friday so just this week we will do a special edition for Monday Night Football!

Last year Sam brought us some scorching hot takes all year for Thursday Night Football, and this year is going to be no exception.  Sam, the Raiders are facing off against the Rams this Monday night.  In what should prove to be a hot matchup out in Cali, what are you expecting?

WOW. That’s an interception and negative passing yards.  These takes were always hot last year, and it’s nice to know we’re starting the year even hotter

[wellmeaningshutin]

Short Story #76: Shortcut.

Written: 3/26/2017

Ever since Camilla was young, as far back as she could remember, she always wanted to be a girl. Thirty years had been trapped inside the body of some horrible man named Conrad, who had a bland accounting job that he had fallen into in the course of his life, and never really did anything that he wanted to do, never took chances. She never liked to think about those years, which she always considered as her past life, because she had finally decided to make sure that she could finally become who she was inside, even if she was extremely impatient. Hormones, surgery, makeup, tucking, vocal practice, electrolysis, all of that just seemed so boring to her, and would cause her journey to be very similar to her past life, which was just full of bland moments and a whole lot of waiting.

Waiting was something she couldn’t afford to do anymore, because dysphoria had been coming in, full force, and every day was full of anger, hatred, and despair, like her life was some sort of melodrama that she wouldn’t even have the patience to keep watching. Money was tight, too, since she had to keep buying replacements for all of her possessions, which kept breaking during fits of intense anger, where she would grab the closest thing and make sure that it resembled how she felt inside, and then the realization of what she did would cause her to cry, she didn’t used to be this way, then the light crying would turn into full force sobbing, which would lead to despair that would cause her to go into her bathroom, with a knife to her throat or a plastic bag over her head, and a belt around her neck, but the sight of herself in the mirror would just make her angry at herself, angry at the world for having fucked up her birth, angry at herself for feeling so fucked up, and then she would go off and break something else, and the cycle would continue onwards until she fell asleep, which would usually happen during one of her crying sessions.

When one of the neighbors had dialed 911, thinking that some sort of domestic dispute was in progress, and police showed up at Camilla’s door, where they saw that the man and his house looked like they had a run in with the KGB, she knew that she had to make some changes. Therapy was considered, but she realized that she couldn’t handle to go only once a week, and couldn’t afford to do more than that, so, like many people who are desperate, and need easy solutions, she turned to the shadier regions of the internet, looking for information on black magic, an alternative that she never would have considered in her past life, when she was devoted to the teachings of the Catholic church.

However, it seemed like a lot of information online was contradictory, not very informative, unrealistic (later, she would realize that this was a strange criteria to have for magic), or seemingly made up, like the large numbers of sources that she found, boasting about the magical properties of crystals. What confused her the most, out of all of the information that she found online, was a website that claimed to sell crystals that would increase one’s luck and make them wealthier, but why would somebody sell them for $50 each? If they had so many of these magical crystals, wouldn’t they have enough money to give them away? Or did they work on a multi-level marketing system, where you had to sell crystals to get more money, but how would that work? And how could magic effect wealth anyways, since money is just a concept created by people and is really just an abstract concept more than anything. After a very long, and very confused email was sent to the store owner, she fell asleep at her desk, the first calm night’s sleep in the past month.

She never realized why she was able to sleep easy that night, even if the reason was pretty simple. In her past life, she was the type of person who had nothing better to do than to write long letters to politicians, corporations, television channels, local businesses, etc, that needed to clear up a large amount of meaningless questions, complaints, or both, and could spend entire evenings complaining about typos, or asking her mayor what his dental hygiene routine was, just because she was curious of how people in power took care of themselves. The reasons that she was placated by this was the same reason that many people go shoplifting, commit sex crimes, write hateful and anonymous comments online, because it was able to give her a sense of power that she was sorely missing in her life.

When she woke up, she found a response to her email, which only said, “If I gave them away for free, then nobody would want them.”

As she made herself a bowl of oatmeal, and slowly ate it on her couch, staring off at a distant wall, not wanting to see her reflection in the television screen, she came to the conclusion that she didn’t want to waste any more time on the internet, so she would have to go out into the world and find people who were actually knowledgeable in the occult. Yet she couldn’t really afford to leave her city, so she would have to find a local, but she had no clue where those sorts of people would congregate. Deciding that magic seemed like a more foreign thing, she figured that Chinatown would probably be her best bet, so that’s where she went.

That day was spent wandering around the streets, asking people if they knew how to perform magical rituals, making her generally feel like an asshole, she was way out of her league. On her way home, as she felt like a complete and utter failure, she decided that the internet would probably be her best bet, she just needed to hang in there, needed to stop being so pathetic. However, this idea went out the window when she drove by a palm reader’s store, did a highly illegal u-turn, parked in front of the building, and quickly made her way inside, where she found a man in a turtle neck, sitting at a table with a crystal ball on top of it, focused on a television in the corner of the room that was displaying a hockey match, or maybe it was a riot, it was hard to tell. When the psychic noticed Camilla standing there, he put a finger to his head and acted like he muted the television with his mind, but really just used the remote that was hidden in his hand that was in his lap, obscured by the table. “Welcome!” he announced.

“Hey there.”

“Well, sir, would you like to have a palm reading? I can tell your future, I can help you find true love,” swirling his hands over the plastic, crystal ball, “Or, if you are interested, I can tell you how you die.”

Pointing to the chair that was opposite of the man, “Can I?”

“Yes yes, sit down. I knew you were going to ask that. Now, what do you wish to know, I can tell you all, for a price.”

“Oh, I wasn’t looking for very much of that, I’m not interested in palm readings and could care less about who I love, or how I die. I just was wondering if you knew anybody else in the magic community, I need to find somebody who could perform a ritual for me.”

“What? A ritual?”

“Yeah, you know,” tracing a pentagram with her finger, “Black magic and all of that. I need to find somebody who can help turn me into a woman, or at least just my body.”

Worried, “I, I don’t know anybody who can do anything like that.”

“Is there at leas some sort of,” shrug, “occultists union or something like that? Do you people have conventions or something? I just want-”

“Look, pal, if you want to turn your body into a woman, then why don’t you go to therapy or something? Shoot a bunch of estrogen into your dick before you cut it off, or whatever the hell you people do. Why do you want to fuck around with black magic and all of that?”

“Well, I thought about that, but I figured it would be a lot easier to kill a goat, or whatever,” waving that idea away, “and have a real womans body, instead of going through pain and procedures for like two years just for a woman’s body that nobody treats as authentic anyways. I don’t have anything to lose, I’m okay with taking short cuts or whatever.”

Getting a little tense, a little aggressive, “Well, I don’t know anything about black magic, so you’re barking up the wrong tree here, pal.”

“What do you mean you don’t know anything about it? You have to know somebody, have to have some leads.”

Shouting, “I don’t know nothing about black magic,” and then a fist slamming down onto the table, hard, that caused the clear plastic ball to start to roll off, before the palm reader caught it and fixed it back onto its stand.

“What do you,” suddenly, a false understanding of the situation, “Ohh, okay. I get you. Nobody here knows anything about black magic,” a wink, then leaning in and whispering, “If you’re being bugged, then I can-”

“Get the fuck out of here.”

Standing up, appalled, “Fine, whatever, screw you! I bet you don’t even know the first thing about magic anyways, you’re just a fucking scam artist.”

Shouting, and standing up to stare down Camilla, “Scam artist? You think I’m some kind of scam artist?”

“Yeah, that’s right, you might as well claim that you’re a Nigerian prince.”

“Well, hows this for a scam,” reaching out and snatching Camilla’s hand before she could react, then waving his free hand over it, “You’re going to drown in a pool of your own blood, that’s how you will fucking die.”

In a mix of anger, fear, and confusion, Camilla jerked her hand away from the man who smelt overwhelmingly of cigarettes and olives, then stomped out of the building, making sure to slam the door as hard as she could on her way out. “What a lousy, no good, son of a bitch”, she muttered to herself as she got back into her old car, with its peeling paint, and cigarette burns in the seats from the previous owner. Before she backed out, and decided to drive home, she sat there, trying to figure out if the man was trying to scare or threaten her. After a little while she didn’t care, and was already planning out her formal complaint in her head as she backed out and began the drive home. As she was mulling over the third paragraph of the inevitable letter, she noticed a sign of a chain coffee shop up ahead, and figured that it would probably be best to get some caffeine in her now for the long night ahead, especially since she had shattered her coffee pot.

Inside she heard lackluster acoustic covers of already lackluster songs, and decided that it would probably be best to just order her drink and leave as soon as she could, but as she waited the atmosphere of the place seemed to take control of her, allowed her to feel relaxed. As she tapped her foot to the casually predictable tune of the music, she never noticed the woman who had sat next to her, and was surprised when she had spoke, “You are in great distress, aren’t you?” The voice was aged, but youthful, and when she turned to look at the woman she could see no face, only a black veil.

“Uh, yeah, you could say that.”

“You are troubled on how to find a cure, you are desperate to try anything, even what most people would be afraid of.”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“You-”

The barista at the counter called out, “Madame? Your blended white chocolate, raspberry coffee is ready.”

Holding up a finger, “One second,” then getting up and getting the drink, and returning to her seat, “Okay, so you want answers to your problem?”

Camilla nodded, “Of course.”

“Well, I can provide you with a solution. I can help you transform into who you really are inside, I can make you whole.”

“What’s the price? What do you want from me?”

“Don’t worry about that now, when I want the favor to be returned then I will ask, all I need you to do is to promise that you will be willing to do whatever I ask of you when I call in this favor.”

“You’re sounding like a mobster.”

“Black magic, the mafia, these are both groups that have to exist in the underground, so it should be no surprise that we share some similarities.”

“When can the whole, you know,” tracing a pentagram with her finger for the second time that day, realizing that the motion was very pleasing to her, “happen?”

“Allow me into your car, go where I tell you to go, and we could perform it tonight.”

“Why me? Why would you be willing to do this for me?”

“I’ve been meaning to perform this ritual for quite some time, but I have had nobody who would be willing to undergo the process. That’s one thing that is required of it, the target must be willing. When I saw you come in here, you aura was just right, I knew you would be perfect.”

After Camilla’s drink was served, they got into her beat up car, and she drove where the veiled woman, who only went by the name Madame, instructed her to drive. When she started the car, Camilla expected to be taken to the woods somewhere, where a goat would be slaughtered, they would dance naked in the moonlight, owls would flutter around everywhere, but instead Madame had led her to some run down dance studio, deep in the downtown area. Before they got out of the car, Madame handed Camilla a business car, and she had to ask, “What is this?”

“Its a therapist, I recommend all of my clients to her.”

“If you’re going to be able to help me,” trying to hand it back, “then I don’t think I’ll have any more problems.”

“Just hold onto it.” They made their way into the studio, which was filled with darkness that Camilla could not see through, even though Madame kept walking as if it wasn’t something she had noticed, so the driver had to pause to turn on her phone’s flashlight, which didn’t seem to do a very good job of clearing the dark, but, unsteadily, she attempted to move onwards. It seemed like the place had been uninhabited for some time, there was a worrying amount of roaches, spiders, and rats, but there was also the occasional discarded needle, condom wrapper, doll appendage, or faded remnants of graffiti. Her guide had never looked back, and she struggled to catch up, worried that would become lost in the building, worried about what she may have gotten herself into, but she was lucky that the building wasn’t very large, and it only took her four minutes to find the main dance area, with hardwood floors, walls lined with mirrors, and a circle of candles in the center of the room, but her guide was nowhere to be seen.

“Hello?”

Moving closer and closer to the illuminated circle.

“Hello?”

When she reached the center of the circle, she could see that Madame was not too far off, blending into the shadows, lying on her back with her knees up, and her veiled head pointing at Camilla. They stared at each other for quite some time, then the guide finally spoke, “I am synchronizing my menstrual cycles to the lunar cycles, you will know when the ritual has begun. Please,” gesturing towards the circle, “take a seat.” Camilla sat and waited for some time, watching as the woman lay there, pointing her vagina towards the moon, unmoving, waiting.

After ten minutes, she noticed that blood began to pour out from the woman, and not just a trickle, but large amounts of blood began to pool out and slowly crept towards Camilla, who was starting to become worried, but decided that it would be best to repress any sense of worry, fear, or hesitation, knowing that no matter how bad this would get, it would be better than spending another day inside of a male body. It would be better than having to shave every day, to have to look in the mirror and see how freakishly masculine she was, to have to hear her deep voice, to constantly feel the discomfort of her dick, which always seemed to be uncomfortable and in the way, no matter how much she shifted it around, to never be able to wear feminine clothes, or makeup, because she would know how ridiculous it would look on her, causing hope to turn into hatred. Anything would be better than having to live like that.

So, when Madame instructed her to strip, she stood up and began to remove her clothes, then tossed them outside the ring. Then, following instructions, she stood as the menstrual blood had pooled around her feet, and when she had to she sat in it, dipped her hands into it and smeared it all over her face, placed her face into it and drank it, rolled around in it, made sure that it touched as much as her body as she could, and when she had to chant she chanted. When the blood flow ceased, Madame stood up and walked into the darkness, and Camilla remained in the circle, lying on her back, getting colder and colder as the thick substance seemed to move around her, seemed to vibrate.

Madame returned, this time carrying something bundled inside of a pink cloth, which she held up, let out an awful wail, and then brought down and held it forward so that Camilla could watch as she unwrapped it, revealing a mangled fetus, some infant in the making that had been cast out of its mother before it could even become a person, before it was even close to developing any form of thought, before it could come alive. She held up the the pre-person that had never lived, high above Camilla, and she made sure to twist and tear it in half, causing it to be a bigger mess that it already was, then she leaned down and smeared the things over the prone guy’s face, genitals, and chest, the whole time making some strange moaning noise, or at least that is what it seemed like at first. It took her a while to realize, but Madame had never made a sound since she told Camilla to sit down. However, the transitioning girl could not complain, or get worried about that, at least not in the moment, since her immediate situation was alarming enough.

The remains of the creature that was born before it could live, unable to die, into the darkness, and there was no sound to announce its landing against the hardwood, only a shriek after it had been consumed by the dark. Madame then reached inside of her jacket, and produced a large knife that she placed against Camilla’s flesh, and cut and cut and cut, as if she were giving the desperate girl a c-section, and that was the point where Camilla blacked out. She wasn’t sure if she was conscious during the whole ordeal and was just repressing it, or if she really passed out, but when she came to inside of the abandoned dance studio, freezing, completely naked, surveying the area that was now filling in with morning light, she looked inside of the mirror and was happy to see that she was what she had always known herself to be.

It was surprising that there had been no trace of blood, candles, salt, or anything related to the events of the previous night, and it was a little annoying that her old clothes now felt way too big on her, she was happy that she could live life the way she had wanted to. However, as she exited the abandoned studio, she saw the lights of a police cruiser, and to officers talking with a tow truck driver, who was placing the hook onto her car. “Wait!” she called and ran towards them, “That’s my car! Wait, stop, no, please don’t tow it, I’m here, I can just move it.”

The officers gave her a look, one she didn’t like, and one of them spoke up, “Ma’am, what were you doing inside of that studio?”

“I was just… just..”

“Can’t even think of an excuse?”

Their partner pitched in, “Maybe she’s still high.”

“Alright, I’m going to need to see your ID.” Camilla nodded, reached into her wallet, and removed her drivers license, but when the officers took it they just shared frustrated glances. “You think we’re going to buy this shit? Do you think we’re fucking stupid?”