#if you already saw this on twitter no you didn’t shhh

[saturns-space]

c!gnfie i drew in september ❤️

[enzenwriting]

attention, please!

28 frappuccino (written part! 1.4k words)

28 frappuccino

an: nothing but attempt FLUFF. 

                                       written part below! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

The walk to the furthest table wasn’t far but it was almost tricky? Jungwon was pretty sure you had passed bookshelves after bookshelves and around the corner with a huge window was a four people table. “That’s my spot”

“You’re really trying not to get caught with drinks” he giggles

“It’s the entrance that’s the trickiest. The librarian probably doesn’t even know this table exists here” you say above a whisper volume before turning to him. “Plus, it’s nearest to our assignment bookshelf so we won’t have to walk back and forth a lot”

Jungwon watches you settle your bag and drinks on the table and sit on the nearest chair by the window. He contemplates whether to sit next to you as he moves forward but backs out as soon as you turn to look at him. “are you okay?”

Jungwon watches you settle your bag and drinks on the table and sit on the nearest chair by the window. He contemplates whether to sit next to you as he moves forward but backs out as soon as you turn to look at him. “are you okay?”

Jungwon watches you settle your bag and drinks on the table and sit on the nearest chair by the window. He contemplates whether to sit next to you as he moves forward but backs out as soon as you turn to look at him. “are you okay?”

Jungwon watches you settle your bag and drinks on the table and sit on the nearest chair by the window. He contemplates whether to sit next to you as he moves forward but backs out as soon as you turn to look at him. “are you okay?”

“uh? Oh, yeah. Uh, I was just thinking how on earth did you manage to find this table” he chuckles, sitting down on the opposite chair, facing you.

“By chance really, I used to sit by the entrance but people would whisper too loud, so I moved”

“Oh… I’m sorry”

“I moved mostly for my convenience. I couldn’t get any studying done with people whispering and it wasn’t the safest spot to sneak in my milk tea.” You smiled as you take out your assignment materials. Sensing your relaxed demeanour and finding the lack of sadness that would’ve come with the type of conversation, Jungwon relaxes and mirrors you as he takes out his laptop, books, and notes.

“Shall we continue where we left off yesterday?” you asked flipping your book pages. Jungwon nods and you both fall into a comfortable silence working on your assignment parts. It takes about an hour when your eyes are drifting to Jungwon, catching him in trance. His eyes were focused on the pen he was holding, spacing out from his work. He’s adorable you think and you’d be a bad person to keep him working. It was then you decide to ask for a short break. Jungwon gladly agreed, not that he was focused on his work anymore anyway. His mind had already drifted to what his members were talking about today. You hung out with Beomgyu all day today.

“What are you thinking?” you ask, catching him busy in his pretty head.

“How was your day? What was it like with just Beomgyu?” The question not only catches you off guard, but it catches Jungwon himself too. Why did he want to know? Why did he himself want to know what happened between the two of you while he was away?

“You knew I was hanging out with Beomgyu today?” oh, quick Jungwon think how you knew without sounding like an obsessive fan.

“Sunoo and Niki were talking about it. They saw it on Twitter or something?”

“Oh, that’s right! Beomgyu said he wanted to bother me since you guys weren’t around. We didn’t do much after really, just Beomgyu talking about a hedgehog?” Jungwon nods, feeling the tension in his stomach disappearing. Why was he relief Beomgyu had acted like his normal friendly self without seemingly having any other intention? Wait- what other intention do I mean…

 “How about you? I saw Niki tweeted it exhausting and you cried like a baby” you tease him.

“cr- cry?!”

“shhh! Quiet down please” seeing him flustered, ears red and blush quickly appearing, you hush him.

“I didn’t cry!” he whispers, and you can’t stop the audible laugh when you think he looks the cutest flustered like that. “y/n I’m serious! I didn’t cry!”

“Ok I believe you” you continue to laugh and Jungwon isn’t convinced you believe him but seeing you so carefree and laughing because of him, he thinks he’s ready to be a clown more often just to see you like this.

“I really didn’t” he pouts. “We had a lot of discussions with the management team about some group projects and we practised our songs and dance”

“Oh? Speaking of your group’s songs, I’ve actually never heard of them before” Now you think of it, Jungwon is an idol and you’ve never heard of his singing and his group’s song.

“Do you want to listen with me? I have them on my phone” Jungwon was hesitant to ask but your eagerly nodding made him glad he asked. “oh, I don’t have my wireless earphone today…”

“Let me move my stuff then” before Jungwon could ask what you meant, he sees you already moving your study notes and drink next to his. He notices the milk tea next to his own Frappuccino and takes notes. Now he knows you prefer milk tea over milk bun pastries compared to the week prior when you first met and he’s thankful for your friendship progress. He then doesn’t miss you moving and taking the vacant seat next to him. Feeling your body heat and soft fragrant surrounding him, he snaps out and hands you his right earphone while the left earphone is plugged in his right ear.

“Is this okay?” you ask about the distance and Jungwon nods. Besides your soft fragrance surrounding him, he feels his erratic heartbeat and hopes that you don’t hear them too. 

“This song is called Polaroid Love, it’s one of my favourite track” He shows you his phone and you nod at it. “Shall we listen to it while doing work?”

“Yeah” you brace yourself as Jungwon plays the music softly. Not a minute in the song, you hear Jungwon’s voice, and your hand unconsciously stops typing. It was strange to hear it- not in a negative way. You hear his voice almost every day but hearing him sing sends your heart racing. Jungwon’s voice is so unique and soothing you think. It definitely suits his comfortable and cosy presence.  Right there, you decide that Jungwon is the human embodiment of the word comfort and you’re happy that you chose to be friends with him. Wait- what’s wrong with me? Why am I thinking of this instead of doing the assignment?

“YN?” You hear him call your name, and you don’t even realise another music had played and it’s also coming to an end. How long were you spaced out for? “Did you not like Fever?”

“Fever?” You repeated, not intending for it to come out when you’re trying to calm your heart.

“Yeah, The song that just played?” he pauses the music, looking at your face to see any sign of pain of discomfort “Are you okay?”

“Ah, I mean yeah it was really good. I just got distracted by the song” you lied. “oh! And uh, I just remembered! Beomgyu… Beomgyu said something about meeting up this Saturday to study if you want to join?”

“Beomgyu invited you to study?!”

“Yes? If you want to join?”

“I’m going!” After the words come out of his mouth, Jungwon feels his ears and cheeks heat up at the immediate answer.

“yay” you mumble quietly looking down at your notes which Jungwon catches and find endearing. “We can work on this and probably finish it by then?”

“Yeah” Jungwon agrees, fiddling with the corner of his phone.

“I’ll message you the time and place ok?” Jungwon nods and waves his phone between you two.

“Shall we continue listening and work then?” You nod, satisfied that your heart has calmed down.  

♡Summary: When Enhypen are forced back to attend class, Jungwon is determined to fight or flight; by tying to get out of school or trying to make the best of ordinary school life. What would happen when he comes across the rumoured bully who happens to be his aunt’s neighbour who is really good at making cookies?!

♡ taglist: (open! pls ask to be tagged!)  @hiqhkey @lovnayeon @rrvvby  @i6hoons  @tenten-67 @angel-hyuckie @wonloop @itsjynop @myjellyboo @lil-iva @r3esieeee @nieeeeeeeeeeeee @yjwnoot @caty-catts     @mierumiko @rionah @mqndnolia

♡ masterlist     previous/ next

[fyeahsharonrooney]

'Finding Alice' star Sharon Rooney on silencing the social media bullies and why her granny was her greatest inspiration (Sunday Post, 17.1.21)

'...Fire up social media on your phone and within moments you’re free to interact with a world full of people. Holiday photos from your cousin in New Zealand? Click like!

Your pal’s video of a Yorkshire terrier that sounds like Brian Blessed? Hit retweet! Don’t like the way someone looks? Tell them to lose some weight!

Hang on, that last one is probably a bit rude. You wouldn’t wander up to a stranger in the street and casually advise them to give the sweeties a miss, not unless you were desperately craving a sore face.

Yet that kindly advice is precisely what someone like Sharon Rooney is offered when she logs into sites such as Instagram.

Sharon, who starred in Disney’s recent live action Dumbo remake, E4’s My Mad Fat Diary and hit sitcom Two Doors Down has endured her fair share of trolling.

“It’s the unsolicited medical advice I enjoy,” she laughed. “Telling me not to eat jellybeans. Thanks!

“I learned quite quickly people will pick apart anything. They will find something. Even if I was five sizes smaller, someone will tell me I looked better before. You’ll never please everyone.

“There’s a lovely mute button now. If someone writes something rude I just quietly say ‘Shhh’ to them.

“With My Mad Fat Diary I’m already saying, ‘Hello, I am fat human’. What can they say?

“I have eyes, I know what I look like and I’m fine with that. Sorry if you’re not. I’m doing OK, so please don’t worry about me.”

(© Carlo Paloni/BAFTA/Shutterstock)

Sharon, 32, is doing more than OK though, which you’ll see if you tune into new ITV drama Finding Alice tonight.

She stars opposite Keeley Hawes and it’s a role that saw Sharon cross the Bodyguard star’s name off a special list.

“I’ll let you into a secret. Every actor has a dream list of people they’d love to work with and Keeley was on mine,” she said.

“I told Keeley. She just rolled her eyes and told me to shut up.

“Why would you not want to work with her? She’s fantastic in everything she does.

“Keeley’s everything I thought she would be. Whe’s one of a kind. A special human being. Look, Keeley’s not paying me to say this! Maybe she should…?”

Praising a colleague is, of course, second nature to an actor. There’s a reason they call them luvvies; plus you don’t want to end up working with someone you’ve bad-mouthed on a project in a year’s time, do you?

This isn’t merely empty platitudes for a thespian pal. Sharon’s praise is warm, generous and genuine. It’s how she herself comes across, along with a dash of wry humour.

Perhaps it’s the influence of her late granny, who Sharon describes as her soulmate.

“This sounds so cheesy but she truly was,” she added. “You know you get one human who you just chime with? I just loved her. We were two old souls.

“She taught me so much. I think grannies have that magic where they teach you to deal with life after they’re gone. I just enjoyed every minute I had with her.”

The pain and sadness we’ve all experienced over the past year, along with the forced holiday she’s had to take with being locked down, has let Sharon think about the grief she felt when her gran died.

“Even if you’re preparing for a death I don’t think it’s any easier than if it’s unexpected,” she said.

“When it is unexpected, like the way Harry dies in Finding Alice, you’re left reeling from it for so long before you can take in what’s happened.

“With Nicola, the character I play, the initial shock has happened. Her big brother has died. So how do you move forward? Grief itself is such a complicated thing. There’s no guide book. When you feel sad, you feel sad.

“Grief sneaks up on you. You think you’re fine then it appears with a ‘Hiya!’

“I still get it. I’ll think I can’t wait to show my gran something before going, ‘Oh yeah’.

“My gran spoke about it before she died. We were talking about how thinking of someone after they’ve died is like ringing a bell for them.

“She said, ‘Don’t think of me too much, hen – I’ll get no rest.’”

(Sharon Rooney as Miss Atlantis with co-star DeObia Oparei in Tim Burton’s Dumbo)

Happily, Sharon brought her sardonic and garrulous Glaswegian spirit to the set of Dumbo, in which Sharon appeared alongside Hollywood legend Danny DeVito.

“You forget they’re still humans, which is easy to do when you’re standing in front of Danny DeVito. All I could think was that this was Danny DeVito. Has anyone told him?

“You just talk on set. Gab, gab, gab. That’s all we did. I was shouting over to Tim to ask for two minutes so Danny could finish his story.

“That’s Tim Burton, by the way. Listen to me, I just call him Tim now.”

Casting for a Disney blockbuster like Dumbo was straightforward, although it did come with an ironclad ban from telling her friends about the project until it was announced.

My Mad Fat Diary focused on the plus-sized character Sharon played but, since then, the roles she’s taken don’t normally specify anything about her character’s weight.

“A lot of parts I go for don’t say the character must be plus-size or look a certain way,” she said.

“I’ve only been doing this for eight years or so but for me it’s never been an issue but I know for some it has been.

“It’s about owning who you are. I realise that’s difficult because of social media. What I try to do is take jobs with people who are authentic characters.

“If it does specify a plus-size actor then my response is to ask why. Let’s investigate this.

“These days – well, before the pandemic – I would go to auditions and the room would be filled with so many different people, which I love. The room isn’t filled with girls who all look the same.

“And I love seeing a role that I didn’t get go to someone completely different to me. Well, I don’t love it because then I’ve not got the role, but it’s still nice to see.”

(The cast of Finding Alice © Joss Barratt)

A closeness with her other granny (the pair are bubbled up) has developed during the lockdowns of the past year, from which Sharon has taken heart.

Other than that she’s been enjoying her break ahead of Finding Alice’s release, as well as browsing social media.

Although these days she’s a lot wiser in how she does it; retaining the enjoyment with the help of that handy mute button.

“I used to follow every celebrity and every celebrity magazine,” added Sharon. “But it just made me doubt myself. I’d go to post a video then I’d wonder if I should put more make-up on first.

“I’ve stopped doing that. On Twitter these days I post videos where I’ve just woken up.

“I mean if you do post a video where you look great and have all your make-up on, then great, but I don’t know how you do it! I look forward to my no-make-up days.

“Oh you should see the state of me. I live in loungewear now. I put on jeans the other day. What are these things? What is this material we wear? These are awful!”

Finally, some feedback with which we can all agree...' X

[chicksung]

stray kids reaction to their (idol) s/o being made fun of by fans? if that's not against your guidelines of course!!

Stray Kids reaction to their idol s/o being made fun of by fans

A/N: Hi beauty! Of course not! This is my first time doing a reaction so please bare with me here! Thank you for the request @dreamsaboutnct

Warning/s: cyber bullying, crying, disappointed chan

Bang Chan: When he came home to find your shaking form in waves of tears, he knew something was up. He knew that you were in preparation for a comeback and he thought maybe it was the stress of it, but when you broke down futher in his arms and said that it was the fans that had you in this state, he was speechless.

To say he was disappointed was an understatement. He was baffled when he saw the tweets and comments regarding your appearance, your talent and abilities and even your relationship with Chan.

He decided to host another episode of Chan’s Room that night. As he greeted the fans, he watched the comments carefully, seeing if there was anything negative said about you.

“Now, I actually wanted to talk to you guys. I love being with Y/N. I truly do. But there are some things that need to be addressed. For as long as Y/N and I are together, I expect you guys to respect her and treat her like you would treat me. It breaks my heart to see how many negative comments my s/o has been getting and I am giving you one warning and one warning only. It has got to stop.”

He had never been so strict when talking to stays but he needed to knock some sense into this ridiculousness, but it seemed to work.

The next morning, #RespectYN was trending #1 on twitter and the negativity was outweighed by the positive. Chan smiled as you read out all the cute things fans had written.

“And if anything like this happens again, let me know. I’ll fix it.”

Lee Minho: He hates seeing you cry. In fact, he hated seeing you anything but happy. You couldn’t explain yourself through the tears so instead you showed him your twitter feed, when he read it, he was frozen. How could his own fans do this to you. Not his stay. Everyone seemed to be supportive of your relationship. This was until he saw one tweet and he felt his blood boil.

“I’m not a stay but I am a (y/n’s fandom name) and honestly? Y/N doesn’t deserve Lee Know”

“Come with me.” Minho whispered, grasping your hand tightly and leading you elsewhere.

Sometimes, you really loved being in the same company as Minho. He told his manager and your manager about the whole situation and they said they would bring it up with the CEO.

Not a week later, Twitter once again say something that they knew was somewhat bad.

‘안녕하세요, JYP입니다.’

The article explained that if any further malicious comments were made about either idols, there would be serious consequences in place for the perpetrators found guilty.

Minho took out on a date that day, to clear out all the negative thoughts and feelings in your mind and heart with all the love he could possibly give to you. He really loves you.

Seo Changbin: Changbin immediately pulled you into his arms when he saw the tears on your cheeks. He didn’t need to know if it was dance practice, a conflict between you and your members, or even if it was that time of the month again. All he knew was that you were upset and he needed to fix it. He pet your hair and let you cry out your feelings until your loud sobs slowly turned into soft sniffles.

“What’s wrong, love? What’s got my baby all upset?” He asked you, pulling you away from his chest and wiping your tears away with his thumb.

“It’s the fans. They’ve been telling me that I don’t deserve you and it’s getting to a point that I’m too scared to post on Twitter and Instagram or turn on vlive. I’m so scared, Binnie.”

Changbin needed to find a way to fix this. And what better way than to write a song. He knew it would take a while and he told you to just try and hang in there.

A few weeks later, he dropped his song on SKZ-Player and the response to it was overwhelmingly good. He decided to turn on vlive and he saw a comment asking what the song is about.

“The song is from the perspective of a fan. They really love this idol to the point where they think they will eventually get married to him. However, it shows the developed hatred towards the idol’s partner when the idol announces that he’s dating. I actually wrote this song to express what could possibly be going through a lot of your heads in regards to myself and my own s/o. They haven’t been taking your...’criticism’ too well.”

When he turned of vlive, within minutes, translation of what he had said had spread like wildfire throughout different social media but people seemed to get the message.

Hwang Hyunjin: Hyunjin felt his heart break a little as he heard you blame the fans for your fragile state of mind. He almost didn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Come on babe. Let’s go and get some ice cream and come back to this with a clearer mind.” He whispered before a small peck on your cheek was delivered and he took your hand and headed out the door.

A few days went by and the messages were just getting worse. Hyunjin couldn’t ignore anymore and your state was deteriorating to the point where Hyunjin banned you of your phone and laptop. “If you keep reading them, it’s just going to put you in a worse state than you already are.” He argued.

JYP and your company both released statements concerning the mental health of both idols and if such behaviour was kept up, they would turn off the comments all together. That seemed to get the fans to see just how much their comments were hurting you and your mental state.

Hyunjin smiled when he saw the comments turning from negative to positive almost overnight.

“See? All it takes is a little shove in the right direction for people to realise what they’re doing is wrong.” He said as he cuddled you into his side.

“Ice cream to celebrate?” You asked with pleading eyes.

“Ice cream to celebrate.” He sighed.

Han Jisung: Jisung listened to you talk out your problems. He judged watched you carefully as you vented about the heated argument two of your members had engaged in and now left tension between the two, but since the announcement that you and Jisung were dating, some of the fans were not being so...kind towards you. Your normally weekly vlives slowly became fewer and farther apart as you were too scared to see the comments.

When your eyes got watery, Jisung momentarily forgot everything else in existence. He forgot about the new album Stray Kids were working on, he forgot about his ramen that he was cooking. All his mind was filled of was ways he could make you feel better.

“Wait wait. Stay here.” He said, gesturing for you to stay put before sprinting out of the room. A few moments later, he returned with a blanket and the teddy bear he was planning to give you on your birthday but decided that you needed it now more than ever.

All wrapped up in a blanket and a tub of Ben and Jerry’s ice cream in your hand plus hugs from Jisung, your tears were long dried and gone.

“I’ll speak with my managers tomorrow, but right now, let’s just cuddle for now.”

“I love you.” You mumbled, your voice still a little crackly

Jisung chuckled.

“And I love you just as much...if not more.”

Lee Felix: Felix was always good at reading people’s emotions. He was able to tell when people were angry or sad or just genuinely happy. However, it didn’t take a genius to see that you weren’t doing so crash hot.

“Sweetheart?” He called out as he patted the outline of your figure under your blanket cocoon. All he got was a sniffle in return. He sighed and collected you up in the blanket and scooping you up like a baby.

“Why are you crying, love?” He whispered into your hair as he pressed light kisses to your cheeks and forehead. You just broke down further, the only words he was able to pick up were ‘comeback’, ‘fans’ and ‘hate’.

Felix had a burning dislike for the four letter h word and didn’t really like using it unless he had really strong opinions on it.

“What about the fans, sweetheart?” He reworded his question and that just seemed to make you more upset.

“They’ve been calling me fat, ugly, useless, untalented, and even worse, that I don’t deserve to be with someone as talented and amazing as you.” You cried out, tears falling so often that your chest was constricting.

“Baby, baby, shhh. It’s okay. I’ll deal with this later. But right now, let’s focus on you.” He pressed his lips gently against yours and hugged you tightly. A small smile tugged at Felix’s lips. “Do you wanna bake some cookies with me?”

You’ve never said yes so fast in your life.

Kim Seungmin: Your usually bubbly aura and personality was nowhere to be seen or felt when Seungmin dropped by your group’s dorm on a surprise visit (and partially to congratulate all of you in your first music show win)

When he saw your slumped over figure and your phone in your hand, his first thought was maybe you were tired, but when he looked closer at you and saw the tears, he walked straight over to you and picked your phone out of your hand like a grape.

“Hey! Minnie! Give it back!” You demanded, trying so hard to wipe away your tears. Seungmin ignored your pleas and started to look at what seemed to be the reason for silent crying.

“If Y/N really thinks she can sing, she’s got another thing coming”

“If I got hit by a truck, I’d look like Y/N”

“Can’t believe some bitch named Y/N got to Seungmo before I did”

Seungmin felt his blood boil, reporting each of the tweet for hate speech and turned back to you.

“How long has this been happening?” Seungmin asked, his eyes softening as he gazed over to you, sitting next to you and grabbing your hands.

You sniffed and couldn’t even look him in his pretty eyes.

“A while now...” Your voice trailed off as a new wave of tears cleansed your eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, petting your hair and tilting your chin up to lock eyes.

“I didn’t wanna worry you.” You sobbed out. Seungmin wrapped his arms around your body and pulled you into his chest letting you cry it out.

“What worries me more is that you didn’t tell me and you didn’t tell the company either.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“How about I take you out to that barbecue place you really like? I’ll pay for it.” He offered, tracing patterns in your hands. You smiled and looked up him.

“That would be nice.”

“Go get your coat, sweetheart.”

Yang Jeongin: You were Jeongin’s first serious relationship. He was shy around you even after being together for almost a year. He finally built up the courage and told the whole world that he, I.N of Stray Kids, was dating you, the member of the hottest debut girl group.

That shit spread like wildfire. Even though the majority of your fandoms supported your relationship, more recently some fans, who seemed to be notably younger, had been sending hate, not towards Jeongin but towards you for ‘taking away their oppa away’ from them.

It was a stupid thing to get upset over but as the days went on it, it just got worse and it was starting to chip away at your emotional state.

That’s how Jeongin came to find you, curled up and alone in the middle of one of the practice rooms.

“Y/N! Oh my god, are you okay?” He bombarded you with questions and checking you over for any injuries.

“I’m fine, Innie. It’s just...” You didn’t finish your sentence and just sighed.

“Just what? Please tell me. I wanna help.” He said with his round doe eyes.

“I’m guessing you haven’t been keeping up on Twitter.” You let out a half hearted laugh, trying to put on a brave face as you wipe your nose on your sleeve.

“Is this about...” He finally got the hint when he saw your phone thrown across the room with a new crack in the screen.

“The amount of horrible words that they’ve thrown at me is starting to eat away at me. I hate it, Jeongin. I hate it!” You yelled out the last part before wailing into your hands.

Jeongin wrapped you up in his arms and rocked you back and forth. His hands rubbed soothing circles on your back and started humming in your ears. Soon, your sobs were reduced to just small sniffles and he pulled your face of the crook of his neck. His eyes held an idea.

“Follow me. I know what will cheer you up.” He said, pulling the both of you up onto your feet as he guided you through the JYP building.

He lead you up a small staircase on the top floor and swung the door open. He had taken you to the rooftop. The soft noise of traffic below paired with the bright twinkling of the stars made the scene feel like it was something out of a movie. It brought an unfamiliar sense of serenity wash over you and for the first time in about a week, you smiled.

Jeongin laid down on the floor, his head resting on his arms and gazing up at the sky. His gaze cut to you and he patted the empty spot next to him, inviting you to join him.

You watched the stars shine vibrantly above you and you sighed with content.

“Y/N. Don’t you ever forget how much I love you. No matter how bad the comments get, that won’t change how I feel about you. I’m doing a vlive tomorrow night so I’ll address it then.” He told you as you rested your head on his chest.

“Thank you, Jeongin. What would I do without you?”

“I’m not quite sure.”

“Nor am I.”

I hope this was good. I know some were longer than others but I got more inspired the more I wrote it :))

[nekocarlsenpai]

Romania

OK, I was inspired by a couple of people on Twitter, So why not write :D. This is the first time I've ever written a headcanon of this size. If I made a mistake somewhere or missed something, then I'm sorry :D. I accept criticism. Pairing: Raiden x Reader Rating: +18 (There are moments of a sexual nature)

Romania. It was early in the morning, and a thick fog had descended on the city, and you could only make out the lights of lanterns and the silhouettes of people on the street. You were an ordinary exchange student who came to Romania on a one - year contract. I was about a couple of hours away from my classes at the University. Lazily sitting on my bed, under a warm blanket, I watched my news feed on my phone and looked out of the corner of my eye at the window. Looking out the window for a second, you saw the silhouette of a tall man standing in the middle of the Dorm buildings and looking at the monument. You put the phone down and tried to look at the man, but he was gone. You didn't think much of it, so you started to pair up. The fog had not dissipated much by this time, but it was enough to make out people 10 meters away. An hour later, you were on the street and on your way to uni. For a second, you felt someone's eyes on you. Turning your head to the side, you saw that tall man in the vicinity. He was about 7 pounds tall, dressed like a Professor from your University, had ash-white hair, and devouring blue eyes. A crowd of people walked around him without noticing, as if he wasn't there at all. "Can I help you?" you asked. The man, as if coming out of a trance, answered . "No, you shouldn't. When he got close to you, he asked. "But if You don't mind, would you like to join me for a Cup of coffee?" You looked at the man you didn't know with caution and started thinking to yourself. "- Let's agree, go to a cafe with a long-haired gray-haired man who is 40 years old and above you by 2-3 heads. Change your life from now on in a fucking dog, falling in love with him because he offered you to drink coffee with him, let's..." -you can, but if not for a long time… "It won't take long, I assure you," he said.

You both went to the nearest cafeteria, and over coffee, you found out that his name was Raiden. He moved here with his younger brother 5 years ago and he agreed to show you around the city on the weekend. After a Cup of coffee, you broke up with him. You ran off to work, and he went about his business. ________________________________________________________ It was already late, your couples had just ended. You left the University and went to the Dorm, which was located a couple of blocks from the University.  There was almost no one on the streets, so you decided to cut through the houses. When you realized that you were lost because you didn't know the courtyards, you began to think the worst. When you heard someone's footsteps, you started praying to yourself, hoping it was just children or cats, but no. It was the stranger you met this morning. "What are you doing in this courtyard at this hour of the night?" "what is it?" he asked. - Lost. I thought I'd take a shortcut through the houses, but no. What are you doing here, Raiden? "I can't answer that yet, but if you want, I can walk you back to your Dorm." – extending my hand to you. - If You don't mind, of course. You nod and take his hand.

You both pass the house until you notice him leading you into a dark alley. - Raiden?.. you asked, noticing that his blue eyes had turned a shade of red. "Shhh, you don't want anyone to hear us, do you?" – gently taking you in his arms and setting you on the nearest hard surface. "If you don't mind, let me -" he covered your eyes with one hand. Aiming for your neck, he tucked his locks of silver hair behind your ear so they wouldn't get in the way. "I'm sorry to be rude, but I can't help my thirst..." When you felt a momentary but brief pain, you gripped his shoulders in a firm grip as he drank the blood from your neck. You couldn't scream, just moan occasionally,

and when You were done with your neck, he pulled back to look at you."Fine, just fine, but I'm not done yet..." running a finger along the inside of your thighs. You could not answer a word, but just watched, in an "intoxicated" state for his next step , going down on one knee, Raiden spread your legs to leave a small and almost invisible Hickey on the left side of the inner thigh. - It will be over soon… Be patient, my dear.with that, he kissed the place of the Hickey and bit it.

After the second bite, but in a different place, you tried to hold back the moan by covering your mouth with one hand and grabbing his silver hair with the other. Your "intoxicated" state did not allow you to keep your eyes open for a long time. Gradually, you passed out, still holding Raiden by the hair. When he was done with your hip, Raiden removed your hand from his hair and stood up from his knee. When he saw that you were almost passed out, breathing heavily, he picked you up and carried you to the Dorm. While he was carrying you, you were already sleeping peacefully.         You woke up in your room with a wild pain in your neck and hip. Seeing your things on the spot, even the bag you took with you to University yesterday. When you got out of bed, you noticed a note with a message on the table. 

“I hope to see you again~”

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They Want Us To Burn || Alec Volturi ||

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence, mild horror, mentions of blood and death. 

Words: 6263 

Summary: So this turned out to be a little longer than expected but I found once I started writing I couldn’t stop so...

From Alec’s point of view, this is what happened the day the Witch Twins burned. 

He took a deep breath, pressed a palm into the soft dirt beneath his knees, closed his eyes, and thrust his head under the surface of the water. The springtime meant warmer weather, but the rivers were still filled with water left over from the winter snow melt. The perfect place to bathe after a frankly awful day. He’d tended to the allotment in the early morning, his back to the sun as it rose since he had no time to admire the beauty of spring if he wanted to plant enough crop to harvest over the summer and autumn months. The late morning to early afternoon gave him time to hunt and check the snares he’d set in the woodland surrounding their home, and after a quick lunch that Mother had prepared, he was off to the fields to earn a pittance for his labour that would help pay the taxes due to the maddeningly fat bastard of a Lord who owned the land their small village was settled on.

The fields were not a nice place to be for Alec, but he’d been turned away from every other job he’d tried to get to earn some coin. He wanted to provide for his family the way he saw other men doing, and as the only man in his household it was his duty to do so, but he could only earn so much if he acquired no skill. His father was not someone Mother spoke about often but he knew he was a foreign born soldier. Whether he was dead or alive, Alec couldn’t bring himself to care. He didn’t want to be anything like a man who had abandoned his family without a second thought, but he could admit that perhaps their lives would be far easier if the man had stayed and taught him some sort of craft. The butcher’s son was already working at their store as was the cobbler’s boy, and the blacksmith’s son? Well, he was being apprenticed to a man in London of all places, sure to make quite a fortune.

His free hand ruffled and ran through his hair, once, twice, three times over, and then he resurfaced with a quiet gasp. Alec liked to swim when he could. There was a lake deep in the forest, perhaps more of a pond, but it was crystal clear and large enough for him to get a few laps in. He’d learnt by accident. One of the few friends he’d had before they had been driven away had pushed him into the river while they playful fought one day, and jumped in to save him when he realised he couldn’t swim. Underneath the water everything was silent. There was nothing and everything all at once, and obscured kingdom of quiet he liked to visit when the real world got to loud. Most of the time now he was too busy working to provide for his Mother and sister to visit his pond anymore. 

Wiping his wet hand over his face and across the back of his neck, Alec blinked the water from his eyes and refocused his eyes on the surrounding greenery, letting sound drift back to him as birds twittered and sung their sweet songs in his ear. Fledglings would be preparing to fly the nest soon enough and Jane would want him to come with her through the forest to help any who had fallen back into their nests again he was sure.

Alec shivered, feeling the water dribble down his spine as he ran his hand over his torso, under his pits. He was awfully sticky after working in the sun all day to till the land, ready to plant the potato crop that would sell at market and go to the Lord’s household. He had never seen the nobles house up close, but he’d heard the rumours from servants who came to market to restock the kitchens. The place was supposed to have high ceilings, long tables feasts that could feed the entire village could be held at and multiple rooms.

 Once he deemed himself clean enough, he sat back in the grass, resting his forearms on his knees and letting the sun dry the water droplets still clinging to his hair and skin, the damp strands now sticking down around his face. His hair had grown considerably and was just starting to creep past his shoulders now. He’d have to cut it again soon to keep it out of his eyes when he was working. The pay wasn’t great and nor was the company, but it provided enough for him to pay taxes mixed in with the income from the milk and cheese they sold from the goats.

The men he worked with varied in age, but Alec was by far one of the youngest. He was in his fourteenth summer now and notably smaller than those he worked with, yet still they gave him a wide berth as though he were the biggest and roughest of the lot. Jane was treated the same when she went to market to sell the cheese she worked so hard to make. Nobody dared come near the witch twins. The very name repulsed him, made bile rise in the back of his throat and his face scrunch in disgust, but there was no way they could rid themselves of the moniker now. Alec grabbed a fistful of grass, tearing it from the dirt and scrunching it in his hand with a huff. 

There’d been more name calling today, more taunts and jabs from the villagers trying to get a rise out of him. He wasn’t Jane. His sister rose to the bait almost every time, years of torment turning her bitter and hot-headed when they were forced to go into the village square now. Jane enjoyed snapping back, her words equally as barbed and making some of the toughest men recoil in shock at how wicked her words could be.

Alec didn’t like to give them the time of day, but that didn’t mean their words simply bounced off of him. Sometimes, like today, when he was already hot and bothered and just wanted to feed his family, their words lingered longer they should.

Not using your devil powers little witch boy?

Maybe he can’t without that freak of a sister near him. Ha! Imagine! All that power and he’s impotent unless there’s a little girl telling him what to do!

Better not rile the witch up, he’ll make your crop fail you know.

How do we know you aren’t tampering with this harvest devil spawn?

He tossed the scrunched up grass into the river, watching the babbling stream carry it away from him. Sometimes he wished he could do that. He wished he could just drift downstream and find someplace new, someplace nobody knew him or his reputation so he could start a fresh. Alec couldn’t honestly say he fully blamed the villagers for being suspicious of him or Jane (things did have a tendency to happen around them after all) but they never meant any harm. In fact, if anything bad happened it was because bad things had been done to them first and foremost. Still, it did scare him just how bold the villagers were becoming, and how out of control it all seemed to be. Just the other day the farmers youngest, no older than six, had hurled insult after insult at him, and Alec really had no idea how it had happened but he was certain it was an accident when the boy had turned and trod on that hoe. He hadn’t physically put it there, but…well it definitely hadn’t been there before either.

It had always been chalked up to coincidence by Mother – it was her favourite word nowadays. When the boys who had cornered Jane at market had complained they couldn’t breathe Mother had reminded them the day was hot, and the air thick. When the girl who had given Alec hope that perhaps he might have won her favour humiliated him in front of her friends, Mother had said it was a coincidence that she awoke the next day with horrendous boils on her face, sore and bursting and leaving ugly scars behind. Alec could safely say he never decided to do any of those things, but he had felt…different, when they happened. He could remember being angry, being scared, and feeling his fingertips tingle, his mind strangely warm, and then it was all over and something good had happened to those who had been good to him, while misfortune followed all those who had done him or his family wrong.

“Alec! Alec!” Jane’s voice was frantic, breaking him from his thoughts so suddenly it was jarring. He blinked owlishly, head swivelling to the right as he tried to gather his bearings. Jane was running towards him, the beautiful braid Mother had spent so long doing for her this morning now flying everywhere and her dress was tattered, stained with mud. The closer she got, the more he realised her head was soaking wet, her lip split and chin stained pink, like she’d had to wash blood off of her face. He shot to his feet, grabbing at his shirt and throwing it on haphazardly.

“Jane what happened to you!” he demanded, shock and anger fighting a violent war inside of him. His wide eyes took in every battered inch of his sister, his fingers curling into her upper arms as he hauled her into him. Jane never cried, so why were her eyes so wet? She shook, holding tightly to him as he tenderly stroked her hair. It was soaking, sopping wet compared to the rest of her. Her dress was hanging off of one shoulder now. Clearly whatever had happened had been violent, and the thought anyone might have harmed his sister drove him to near madness.

“Th-th village b-boys, they tried to – they were – they tried to-“ she stuttered, gulping for air and unable to get the words out. Alec tried to be patient, cupping her face in his hands and pressing fleeting kisses to her cheeks and forehead.

“Shhh sister, hush now, you’re safe.” He promised, brushing some wet strands of hair from her face. Jane sniffled, closing her eyes as she took some deep breaths, her slender fingers wrapped around his wrists. Given the way she’d run to him he didn’t think she was too badly hurt. There were no bruises on her skin he could see, just her split lip that looked to be quite sore.

“They tried to make me confess to witchcraft.” Jane whispered, sky blue eyes peering up at him and swimming with anxiety. She smelt something awful, like urine and barn animals.

“Make you confess?” Alec repeated, his tone growing darker as his eyes narrowed. Jane nodded, sniffling again and swiping her hands nervously down her dress. Jane was unflappable. She had a comeback for every occasion, a tongue sharper than any sword and a temper that was all consuming and violent as fire. It didn’t suit her to seem so afraid and meek before him now.

“The son of Godwin cornered me at market with his friends, and they dragged me to that boy Edgar’s house, you know the place that owns all the sheep? They kept – kept dunking my head under water in the sheep’s trough.” She told him, her voice starting to shake as her eyes went big, “I swear to you Alec I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know how the Smith’s boy began to choke.” Jane began to cry again, looking alarmed and pale as she fell into his chest. Alec wrapped her tightly in his arms, somewhat frozen in shock himself. It wasn’t the first time those around Jane had suddenly found it difficult to breathe, but someone choking was far more sinister. He doubted it would be forgiven or explained away as easily as their other coincidences had been.

“Jane we must go.” Alec said firmly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and marching with her back through the grass towards the dirt path that led to home. His mind raced, his concern growing as Jane didn’t bother to argue with him as she usually would. He took a sharp inhale as his sister stumbled beside him, falling to her knees and trembling head to foot.

“I killed him Alec. I think I killed Harold the Smith.” She whimpered, eyes shining with tears. He stilled, a shiver running down his spine. Dead? She had killed the blacksmith’s boy? He was due to go to London! He was his family’s pride and joy! This would not be taken lightly.

“Sister…how did you escape?” Alec asked quietly. Had the other boys just let her go once they had seen what she’d done to her friend? How many had witnessed the Smith boy’s demise? Was it gruesome? Alec found a morbid fascination with that last question, part of him hoping it was for all the torment they’d endured at his hands but knowing that the very desire to so much as hit him was a sin in itself. To wish a gruesome death upon someone…maybe he was the devil’s boy after all?

“They all just fell.” Jane whispered back, staring up at him from the floor.

“Fell?” he questioned. She nodded slowly, wiping furiously at her eyes before shooting to her feet. Suddenly, Jane was tugging him by the hand, the skirt of her dress kicking up clouds of dirt as he hurried to fall into step beside her. “Jane what do you mean they fell?” he repeated his question, voice slightly more panicked now.

“I don’t know brother! They began to bleed and then they fell! I don’t know what happened, but I didn’t mean to do it, you have to believe me!” she insisted. Alec nodded placatingly.

“Of course I believe you sister, but what you’ve done is…the village will not forget this.” He fretted, mind quickly turning to Mother. She would be waiting for them to return home, perhaps cooking supper as they hurried along. They had to get home fast, pack what meagre belongings they owned and flee. If Jane had truly killed the boy…the penalty for murder was death by hanging. Depending on the state that she had left the other boys in after her “trial” they might just torture her all over again before giving her the rope.

“Brother do you…hear that?” she asked, stopping suddenly. Alec paused, straining his ears until he caught it. It was a cacophony of loud, clambering voices, muffled by distance but slowly growing clearer. It was like listening to the raucous shouts of the villagers when they gathered to celebrate the Shrove Tuesday feast, but as the words of their chant became discernible Alec felt his blood run cold.

“Burn the witches!”

“Alec…”

“Run.” He whispered, staring with wide eyes at his sister. Jane’s jaw clenched shut, her eyes shining with tears. “Run Jane! Run now!” he bellowed, tugging on her hand to force her to keep pace with him.

Find Mother and get into the forest.

Find Mother and get into the forest.

He repeated the instruction to himself like a mantra. Protecting his family was all that mattered now. Their fate was certain, their place in the village now painfully clear. They were nothing more than scapegoats for all the rotten luck that befell others. Jane panted beside him as he focused his eyes on their house, forcing his legs to move faster. He didn’t dare look back, barreling in through the door and shocking Mother so badly she screamed, dropping the ladle into the pot she was busy cooking supper in.

“Alec what on earth-“

“Mother we must leave, the villagers have come for us!” he snapped, pivoting on his heel to reach for his bow. He wasn’t the best shot, but he would have to make do. His family needed him to rise to the occasion, to be the man of the house, to protect them.  

“But Alec why would they-“

“Mother there is not time! We must flee to the forest now! We can survive out there, I know we can, please!” he implored. Mother was too shocked to move for a long moment until she heard the shouting, Jane’s shrill cry to warn them of their impending visitors startling her into grabbing the skirt of her dress and hurrying towards the door.

“Hurry, hurry! Jane, come quickly!” she held out an arm and Jane immediately took her hand, Mother ushering her on ahead of them as Alec darted out of the door, nocking an arrow as he went and drawing back the bowstring. He let the arrow fly towards the crowd, a few angry shouts and screams as it landed near their feet ripping through the air. Alec could see the shining ends of pitchforks, the sharp curves of axes, the butcher holding his butchers knife up so the metal glinted dangerously in the sunlight. How could such a cloudless, bright day herald such a terrible fate for them?

Turning swiftly, he pelted towards the treeline, seeing his mother and Jane close to reaching the first few trees up ahead. His hand gripped his bow tight, heart racing as the blood in his body began to roar in his ears. Was this really it? What if they couldn’t get away? No, no he couldn’t think like that. He brushed quickly past his family, holding back the branches in their way and letting them fall back into place beside them. He moved much faster over the familiar hunting terrain, dismayed by just how slow his sister and Mother seemed to move. Tree roots tried to trip them, the patchy canopy sending beams of light to guide their way and leaving the forest unbearably humid. It hadn’t always been this warm had it? He could feel himself sweating again.

“Dammit!” Jane cried in frustration, yanking the skirt of her dress off of the sharp twig it had been snagged on, ripping the material. Mother crashed to the ground, hissing at the sting the impact left on her skin. Jane helped her back up as Alec reached back for another arrow. The villagers sounded close again, closer than he wanted them to be.

“We have to move faster, there’s a blind not far from here where we can hide till they pass.” He said, voice quiet but strained. Jane nodded determinedly, but Mother merely pushed her forward.

“Go there then.” She said, her eyes watering. Alec felt his own eyes widen. His chest refusing to take in air for a moment.

“No.” he whispered as Jane hurried to his side, gripping his arm tightly.

“I am only slowing you down.” Mother insisted, her hands bunching her dress into fists. She approached quickly, jerking like a puppet whose strings had been pulled tight. He couldn’t respond to her hug, her body warm against his and heart beating all too hard against his chest, body frozen. She cupped his cheeks and kissed the top of his head, a shaky smile crossing her lips before she repeated the motion to Jane.

“Mother no.” Jane begged, “Please come with us please!”

“We can make it Mother.” Alec said determinedly. He wouldn’t leave her behind. A real man would save all of his family, wouldn’t they? How could he leave the woman who had given him life? The woman who Jane looked so much like, with her golden hair and soft features. He shared her blue eyes. He still whispered her stories to Jane on nights nightmares kept her awake. He needed her still. He needed her always. Mother twisted her head sharply, the villagers sounding far too close as branches snapped under foot and animals scattered into the depths of the woods to avoid their wrath.

“No, we cannot, but you can. Go now my loves, look after one another. I love you always.” Her words broke on a soft sob and before either of them could react she darted back and to the right, moving diagonally away from them and beginning to bundle rocks in her arm. Jane tugged at his hand, but Alec could only watch as Mother, her blue eyes frantic when she realised they still hadn’t moved and she screamed for them to go once more. Her arm reared back, and a stone pelted the first villager through the break in the trees square in the chest. Coughing and spluttering, the cobbler clutched his chest and doubled over, heaving for air. Alec nocked his arrow and drew back the string, letting it loose without a second thought as his lips twisted into a snarl.

He didn’t recognise the man who went down, the arrow embedded into his shoulder. A swarm of people were advancing now as Jane shrieked at him to move, but Alec barely heard her. He could feel it again, that warmth in his mind, the way his fingertips tingled. His arm wheeled back and forth, nocking arrows and letting them fly. He wasn’t even aware of the obscenities he was screaming now at the villagers who were lunging for them, his ears buzzing as the adrenaline pounded through him at an alarming rate. His eyes were laser focused; tunnel vision pinpointed on Mother as she was shoved to the ground, landing hard on her elbows before she was pushed onto her back. The world seemed to move in slow motion after that, his throat feeling raw as he screamed and screamed, feeling the wind pick up around him as the stones Mother had once held as her only defence now rained down on her prone body.

Jane went down next having propelled herself forward to try and save Mother. She was tackled and pinned by the arms by two burly men that in the back of his mind, Alec recognised as some of the farm hands he worked with. He reached his arm back, furious now as they struck his twin across the face so hard the wound on her lip reopened, spilling bright red blood and making her eyes flutter. He grasped thin air, his blood running cold as he realised he was out of arrows. They were sticking out of various limbs, but it wasn’t enough to stop the mob coming for him, and he swung his bow up and around in a wide arc to catch the first attacker in the face. He was barely seeing faces anymore, each villager a blur as they rushed him. He was forced to the ground on his front, face smashed into the dirt once, twice. There was a sharp sting that ran through his nose, followed by a deep, fiery throb, something hot and wet running down into his mouth and making him choke and splutter.

“Jane!” he croaked her name desperately, vision blurring at the edges and staring to fade rapidly as an explosion of pain ricocheted through his ribs, his legs. He had failed. He hadn’t saved anyone. Mother was dead, Jane was…alive? Slung across the shoulder of the man before him, her hands bound and body limp, his sister’s chest rose and fell as she was carried like a sack of potatoes away from him. Alec couldn’t find his feet, feeling them drag over the sticks and stones littering the forest floor, his shoes sliding through something slick and wet. His blurry eyes could barely make out the discoloured, red splotch that was all that was left of Mother as he was dragged past her, two hands gripping his biceps too tightly and cutting off the blood flow in his arms as he was hauled along. Knowing he had failed made it a lot easier to accept the darkness creeping in on him.

He could almost pretend everything was normal when his eyes opened again. Jane was shouting profanities and curses at the top of her lungs, iron rattling as she shook her shackles and slammed the chain into the bars holding her in a cell. Every part of his body hurt. From head to toe Alec felt a deep-rooted ache, his very bones throbbing in protest of his every breath. The skin around his mouth felt tight, dried, congealed blood covering his skin. He closed his eyes with a wince as the image of his bloodied and beaten mother came to mind. She wasn’t Mother, not like that. She’d looked like one of those slabs of meat strung up outside of the butchers, battered and red with blood. He’d failed. Mother would never again sing as she cooked, which he had always claimed annoyed him but never confessed that they were songs he hummed to himself to pass time in the fields. She’d never patch up his clothes again, citing her favourite sewing rules to an unimpressed Jane, who simply didn’t have the patience for activities such as sewing. Never again would she sit with him when he couldn’t sleep, stroking his hair and reminding him of just how wrong they were, that her twins were her most precious gift and could never be a curse.

Alec felt the grief so acutely it stung in his chest like an open wound, a sharp, red hot knife plunged into his chest again and again and again. Jane’s shrill screaming was ringing in his ears, rattling around his brain, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything other than lie there, in too much pain to move. Internally though, he egged her on.

Curse them all, sister. Summon whatever power the devil has bestowed us with and bring nothing but chaos to this wretched place.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed sprawled on the floor, but the stone was uncomfortable and began to turn his limbs numb. Alec found himself grateful for it, the pins and needles making his pain worse only briefly before his sprawled figure was simply numb to every physical sensation, and it was marvellous. A quiet sigh of relief escaped him and he closed his eyes, willing his mind to do the same as his body, to shut down and let everything go. He could hear the hustle and bustle outside, an animated kind of buzzing. A strange kind of anticipation filled the air and he knew what it was for, though he couldn’t bring himself to acknowledge it. Everyone knew what happened to witches, and he had maimed many villagers with his arrows to only add fuel to the fire. Their ending would not be pleasant, their parting from this world all too soon and all too painful. He prayed the numbness in his body would last.

“Alec?” Jane’s voice was hoarse, her screaming having worn down her throat. He stared at the stone ahead of him, heart aching in his chest as his eyes burned with tears. She sounded so afraid, so uncertain and saddened. The cells stank of human waste, of old blood, the straw on the floor long since mangled and discoloured by various stains he didn’t want to think about. He managed to take block out the foul smell so it no longer made him nauseous at least. It wasn’t until Jane called his name again that he found the will to respond.

“Forgive me sister.” He murmured.

“Alec.”

“I have failed you. I failed Mother. I cannot save you.” His voice was oddly thick, the air unable to escape his crooked nose and making some syllables come out a little garbled, but Jane understood him nonetheless. She always had. Without a word, she curled herself onto her side and reached her hand through the bars of her cell, stretching her hand as far as it would go across the floor towards him. Alec swallowed, shakily reaching for her. There was no pain, his body far too numb to it now, he couldn’t even feel her skin against his, but he held fast and tight to her hand like it was a lifeline, his only anchor in a world that suddenly didn’t make sense anymore. Why them? Why did they have to suffer? Why couldn’t people have just been nice to them? They remained silent, the dark aura that emanated from Jane only growing worse as time wore on and the sun began to dip in the sky. It was like watching a storm cloud grow more violent, lightning crackling around and waiting to strike.

Alec on the other hand finally got his wish. Everything stopped. The grief that was held heavy in his heart disappeared, but so did everything else. They were building his pyre, time was marching towards his death but…it didn’t matter. None of it mattered. He had been a good son, a good brother, given time he might have even been a good man, but fate had decided for him and who was he to argue with such powerful forces? When the door slammed open Jane’s grip on his hand tightened, but Alec could only stare blankly at the alderman pointing a gnarled finger at the pair of them. The farm hands he worked among came striding for his cell.

“Get up witch boy, meet your reckoning.” He knew Alfred well, had thought they were perhaps friends. Huh, what an odd situation, to be put to death by a boy you had worked with. He didn’t move, merely stared unblinkingly back at them until they forcibly dragged him to his feet. No pain, nothing. His brain had shut it off by now, and everything else had shut off to as he stumbled out between them, Jane thrashing and snapping at her own escorts behind him. He squinted against the bright light of the torches held aloft by so many of those who had shunned them. He did not feel fear or dread, when he saw the stake driven into the ground, a platform of wood surrounded by logs and branches from the very forest they’d tried to escape into. Perhaps the rope was rough, perhaps it wasn’t. He tested its strength, tugging lightly so the rope was forced to strain a bit against the wooden pole forcing him to stand straight. It didn’t give an inch.

Jane was forced to submit, Alec watching as they drove a fist into his sister’s gut to incapacitate her long enough to tie her down. She struggled viciously, her eyes murderous and flashing over each and every villager before them with her teeth bared. Alec traced the bruised and bloodied visage of his sister one last time, committing the image to memory before turning to face the crowd. Whole families had gathered, some looking excited while others looked morbidly fascinated, like they wanted to be somewhere else but couldn’t bring themselves to ignore the spectacle.

“Alec, Alec look at me.” Jane snapped. He turned his head, dead eyes finding hers for the last time. He had failed her.

“I love you, Jane.” He said, and even though his voice was devoid of emotion he knew she understood just how much weight the words carried.

“There is nothing to forgive Alec, I love you to.” She promised.

“The witch twins have plagued us for long enough! Sickness has befallen our children, our crops have failed, diseases have riddled our livestock, and now they have taken the lives of five young men!” the alderman cried. So Jane had taken down five of those boys had she? Good. The crowd was screaming, the families of the boys shouting curses and thrusting their torches high. Alec knew he should be afraid, but what he could now to stop this? Perhaps the afterlife would be kinder to them? Surely God would know they had never intentionally caused harm to another living being?

“Burn the witches!”

“Purge this village of the devil children once and for all!”

The alderman nodded placatingly, his hand rising and falling in a calming motion to settle the eager crowd. Beady green eyes met Alec’s very briefly, and Alec stared back, unblinking, unflinching.  

“For their crimes against our village, the crime of witchcraft, we sentence these two devils to burn at the stake! May God free their souls from the wretched evil that consumes them!” he spat, tossing his torch down onto the branches at Jane’s feet. She let out a blood curdling scream and Alec felt the first flicker of something ignite in him as more torches followed. It rained fire for a few short seconds, and then the acrid smell of smoke was filling his nose, choking his lungs. There it was, fear, anger, despair, disgust. It roiled in his gut like an angry serpent.

“You’ll all burn in hell! Each and every one of you will burn in hell for this!” Jane screeched, struggling viciously as the flames began to lick upwards. The dry kindling caught quickly, bringing his death closer and closer as Alec began to squirm, gritting his teeth. It was growing uncomfortably warm, his eyes burning and lungs spasming as he tried to breathe around the thick, foul smelling smoke invading his airways. He coughed, eyes narrowing on the flames nearing his feet. Jane’s screaming changed in pitch and tone, the anger and malice her voice had once conveyed replaced instead by agony and terror. His head snapped to the right, seeing the leather of her shoes melting into the wood as the flames reddened and charred her ankles, bright orange fire steadily crawling up her dress. His eyes watered, his own feet now hot, burning hotter and hotter as the flames grew higher. They licked at his skin like a thousand angry bee stings. Alec could feel his flesh bubbling and melting slowly as the fire penetrated layer after layer of skin until his very bones felt like they were starting to curdle in the heat.

He couldn’t contain his voice anymore, a strangled scream escaping his lips as he tossed his head back against the wood, trying to move his feet away from the flames encroaching on his skin. He had never felt pain like it and he silently begged for it to end, for something to douse the flames and cool him down. He felt sick, his mind growing fuzzy from lack of air, though he was painfully and shamefully aware of the way his bladder voided once the fire reached his thighs. The torment seemed eternal, stretching on and on as his flesh peeled away, his fuddled mind conjuring images of Mother peeling potatoes to go into their dinner, teaching him to do the same. He would do anything for her to wake him now from this nightmare. The flames leapt suddenly with a gust of wind, pushing through his shirt and onto his chest, but he couldn’t even scream anymore, not enough air in his lungs. His body sagged against the wooden pole, his brain struggling to process the sensations anymore as he finally, mercifully, went numb to it all once more. Vaguely he understood that this was the end, that he was close to passing from this world to the next.

Black shapes flitted in and out of his vision, dancing across his eyes. His ears were ringing with the screams of the villagers, and a deranged, choked laugh escaped his battered lips. Demons, it had to be demons. Maybe they were the devil’s children after all and he had sent a welcome committee to escort them all to hell? He prayed for it in that moment, as muddled as his thoughts were he thought of the demons and how their claws might rip into those who had done this to them, thanked his father for the blissful numbness that had overcome him now and stopped him feeling pain. The demons hovered over him now, pale as the moon and shrouded in darkness, vividly red eyes beaming down at him. His eyes fluttered shut, waiting for the inevitable. He had expected it to perhaps be quick, a slash of the creature’s claws through his throat maybe. It certainly started in his throat, liquid fire pouring into him and forcing his blurry eyes back open in shock. He couldn’t move, couldn’t scream, but his eyes wheeled desperately to find someone, anyone who could stop this.

The fire built and built, and then it overflowed, pouring through his veins and spilling down into his chest, encasing his heart and flooding down to the tips of his toes until his whole body was encased in a burning more vicious than anything he’d endured up until that point. His voice was too broken to make a sound, but his mind suddenly seemed to fire up, working faster and more efficiently than ever before to try and process the agony he was in. As his vision faded again, he felt his body tremble. He was trapped inside of his mind, unable to open his eyes anymore and encased in a shell of burning flesh, being torn apart and remade from the inside. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Was this hell? Was this what the rest of eternity would be like? Where was Jane? Had death been kinder to her? He hoped it had. Whoever had done this to him, whatever awaited him at the end of this ordeal, he used his last coherent thought to make a solemn vow.

The world is going to pay for what it did to us sister, and our enemies will know no mercy from my wrath.

[dixie12]

so much angst

why do some real work when i can write 1700 words of angsty jonny in the aftermath of pat’s 400th goal!

Jonny had spent the last three days practicing looking and sounding excited. He knew Patrick would be calling him to celebrate after his 400th goal, especially since Chicago was still mostly on lockdown, and it wasn’t like he could go out and party with the guys. He was determined not to bring Patrick down, not to make yet another conversation about him and his issues. Patrick deserved to be the center of attention, and Jonny was damn well going to give him that.

He texted with Sharpy a bit before the game, predicting when they thought Pat would score. After the frustrating loss in their last game, Jonny had has money on Patrick scoring early. Thankfully, Sharpy didn’t ask how he was feeling; he must have known that he wouldn’t get much of an answer out of Jon, anyway. 

Jon watched the game with increasing tension as time wound down and Pat still hadn’t scored, his body moving unconsciously on the couch as he deked along with Patrick. When the puck finally found the back of the net, after that beautiful hesitation move, Jonny whooped in joy, throwing his arms up before he even realized what he was doing. Not like he had any neighbors to bother, though, tucked away in isolation at his cabin. He pulled out his phone and sent Patrick a quick text, even though he knew Pat would be overwhelmed with congratulations over the next few days.

Jonny pulled up Twitter and watched the goal a few more times, scrolling through reactions from the Blackhawks, NBC sports, the NHL, other Chicago athletes, and pretty much everyone involved in hockey. 

As the accolades added up, a familiar heaviness settled into his chest, weighing down his excitement. Patrick was somehow getting better with age (“like a fine wine, baby,” Patrick had teased him, once), and while Jonny couldn’t be prouder of him, of what they’d accomplished together and what Patrick was continuing to accomplish on his own, he couldn’t help but compare himself to Patrick, and it wasn’t pretty.

Everyone knew that the organization was grooming Kirby to take over for him. If it hadn’t been for that freak injury at World Juniors, the kid would be out there centering the first line right now, in the spot that had belonged to Jonny since 2007. Jesus, Kirby was six when Jonny started his first game in the NHL. How was he supposed to compete with that? Sure he had the “respect of the room” and the experience, but Jonny himself had taken on the captaincy before he turned 21; there was no reason Kirby couldn’t do the same.

He tried not to check message boards too frequently, but sometimes even his willpower wasn’t enough, and he was already feeling sorry for himself, brief elation at Kaner’s goal subsumed into the ever-present anxiety he felt these days. He poured himself a few fingers of whiskey, knocking them back quickly and setting up a refill before he opened up a thread on Reddit talking about the salary cap and bad contracts.

It wasn’t as bad as what Seabrook got, but the general consensus, Jonny learned, was that he was way past his prime. There were a lot of posts that “wished him all the best” but pointed out how much cap relief the Hawks would get if Jonny never came back. “I’ll never forget what he did for Chicago, bringing hockey back with Kaner,” one poster wrote, “but Toews should recognize that his contract is a fucking albatross on the team.”

Albatross. Decline. Overpaid. Lost a step. Lost a lot of steps.

Jonny kept scrolling, barely reading the individual words anymore. Six months ago he may have laughed them off, would have turned to Pat to show him the most ridiculous comments. Now, though. He was pretty sure they were right, and he didn’t really know what to do with that.

The ringing of his phone, signaling an incoming FaceTime call, startled him out of his spiral. Oh fuck, that was Patrick. He hadn’t realized how much time he’d lost reading, nodding his head in bitter agreement as poster after poster pointed out all of his flaws. 

Showtime, he told himself. This was what he’d been preparing for. He hit accept, willing his smile into something bright and natural.

“Congratulations, babe!” he said, a little too loud to his own ears. Maybe the volume would make up for any lack of enthusiasm. “That goal was a beauty, Patrick,” he continued, more quietly and more sincerely. You can do this, he repeated in his head. Do this for Patrick. Be there for him.

Patrick just stared at him for a second, worn out from the game and all the post-game media, probably, but then he broke into a grin.

“Yea, you liked that, didn’t you?” He replied, letting himself be way cockier than he’d act to the press.

“You know I did, Peeks,” Jonny told him truthfully. “Was so stressed just watching, can’t imagine how you held it together out there.”

“Just imagined you were there yelling at me, telling me to keep my head in the game. I told you to fuck off a few times, just fyi.” Patrick was still smiling, now chugging a Gatorade and stripping out of his suit while they talked.

Jonny was distracted by the broad lines of Patrick’s shoulders, his strong chest and arms now visible as Pat settled down on his bed. Without thinking, he mumbled “better get used to imagining it, man.” He felt his face flush as the words came out. Ugh he sounded pathetic. Patrick deserved so much better than this, especially tonight.

“What do you mean, Jonny?” Patrick asked immediately, languor gone, tension snapping into his muscles as he sat up.

“Nothing, nothing,” Jonny hurried to add. “You can imagine what you want, but I’m imagining being there in your bed right now,” he tried, desperate to distract Patrick and get the evening back on track.

Patrick looked like he might push it, but Jonny took his momentary silence to strip off his shirt, as well. He saw Patrick’s eyes flick down to his chest and abs, and yea, at least he was still able to work out enough that Patrick still thought he looked good. 

Unless. Unless he was looking at Jonny and judging. Looking at Jonny and thinking of how much better he’d look if he were training full-time. How much better Jonny used to look, when they shared the rink and the locker room and the gym, not just each other’s phone screens. 

“Jonny..” Patrick’s voice sounded hesitant. Focus up, he told himself fiercely. 

“Just thinking about your goal, Pat. Gets me hot,” Jonny said suggestively, letting his voice drop lower, one hand drifting down to his chest, fingers sweeping over a nipple like Patrick liked to do.

It wasn’t the best phone sex Jonny had been a part of, though Patrick seemed to enjoy it well enough, based on how hard he came, and how quickly he hung up afterwards, telling Jonny he was about to pass out. Jonny had to work way more than usual at just getting himself hard, getting himself off, but he got there eventually, a minute or two after Patrick.

He usually slept pretty well after an orgasm, and he’d actually been jerking off more often lately just to get himself to sleep. Tonight, though, every time he closed his eyes those comment threads started running through his head. He laid in bed for close to an hour, trying to force himself to sleep before giving up, throwing off the covers and wandering into the living room.

He opened his laptop, even though he knew that if he couldn’t sleep, he shouldn’t be messing around on his computer, either. Nothing good would come of it, not at this hour. 

Instead of message boards, he opened YouTube, pulling up old highlights of himself. He watched his hands, his edges. He watched himself lift the cup three times, remembering the roar of the home crowd that third time, how he felt on top of the world.

His eyes were burning, suddenly. He rubbed at them, clenching his jaw and fighting back tears. He was so tired. Tired of the uncertainty. Tired of the tests. Tired of the well-meaning questions. Tired of being left behind as Patrick continued to exceed all expectations. He didn’t cry, not quite, but it was a close thing. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, breath coming in gulps as he fought for control of his body.

He spent the rest of the night like that, sleep never quite finding him, but not really awake, either. 

The doorbell rang at 7:00, making him jump. Only a few people even knew where he was, and none of them should be showing up this early on a random Monday morning. He stumbled to the door, the old afghan from his couch wrapped around his shoulders. He was probably a mess, but he couldn’t really find it in himself to care.

He opened the door slowly, not sure who to expect, and then he saw the flash of Patrick’s curls. Patrick shouldered in, not even waiting for Jonny to finish opening the door.

“Patrick, what-” he started, but Patrick cut him off right away.

“Jesus, Jonny, you look terrible,” he said, reaching one arm out as he spoke, pulling Jonny in towards him. Jonny tripped, feet heavy with exhaustion, but Pat supported him like it was nothing. “You’re still a terrible actor, man. You were messed up last night, don’t even try to lie.”

Jonny didn’t know what to say to that, brain moving too slowly. Patrick was here. The Hawks had a three day break, their last one of the shortened season, and instead of getting some rest, or maybe seeing his family, Patrick was here. He wasn’t even sure how Patrick had managed to get here this early in the morning.

“How,” he tried again, but Patrick just tugged him in tighter.

“Shhh, Jonny,” he said, stroking one hand over Jonny’s neck. “You look like you’re about to fall asleep on your feet. Let’s just get you to bed.” Patrick started walking Jonny back towards the bedroom, steering with the weight of his hand on Jonny’s neck. 

They stripped quietly, not bothering with pajamas. Patrick settled them on their sides, facing each other, foreheads almost touching. Jonny finally felt his body relax, muscles sinking into the bed. Here in this space, sharing breath with Patrick, he let the tears come.

[lancearcherinrippedjeans]

It Was All Good...Then in Comes Kenny

For previous parts, click HERE

Pairings - Adam Page x OFC, Matt Jackson x OFC x Kenny Omega, Chuck Taylor x OC

Categories - Fluff, Angst, Almost Smut

Warnings/Promises - Cussing (like always), sexual jokes, and well uh, almost smut

Summary/Desc - Adam and Gabby get into an arguement, Brianna has a rough day, Parker and Chuck finally talk, and Adriana gets into a, well, entanglement.

Back in Gabby’s life, her and Adam had bought a house in Ann Arbor Michigan where they planned to raise their baby. A baby boy named Ashen Page. 8 months into her pregnancy she was on lock down not knowing when the baby would come, other on Adam’s hand he still had to wrestle.

“He’s not home yet?” Parker said, “Nope.” Gabby sighed. Gabby and Parker were facetiming while she sat on their couch, waiting for Adam to arrive home. Minutes later she heard the sound of the door being unlocked, “Ok he’s here I’ll call you back.” She hung up the phone. Adam entered the house, hair in ponytail, luggage draped over his shoulder. “Hi baby!” Adam dropped his bags and ran to where Gabby was, “Hi!” 

They kissed, when Gabby noticed something...off, “Have you been drinking again?” “Of course not, babe.” Adam placed his hand on a frustrated Gabby's stomach. While she was pregnant, her and Adam promised he’d sober up, unless it was drinking for work. She immediately moved his hand off her, “I’m not fucking dumb Adam, I can taste the whisky in your breath.” she rolled her eyes. They sat down on the couch, “I was stressed about work and you and Ashen, I just had to.”

“You sound fucking dumb, if I can’t drink for 9 months, you can’t either.” Gabby shook her head in disappointment. “When are you gonna become more understanding Gabrielle, like fuck!”

“More understanding?! I’ve been nothing but understanding bro.” A tear ran down her face. “It’s like you want me to be this person that can wrestle, and be a great dad, and pleasure you, plus be your emotional support system? I can’t do it all.” “So what? Am I asking for too much? Because if I went to Joey and asked him to be my emotional support system, or fuck it. Go to him for sex them what would you do Adam?” Gabby wiped her tears, crossing her arms. “Really? Maybe I wasn’t wrong about you and Kenny then!” he shouted. 

“What is it Adam? You think we fucked? Kissed? Want each other? I’ve told you it's not like that at all. You're the only man I want.” Gabby teared up again. Adam couldn’t bear to see Gabby cry anymore, so he pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry about the drinking babe.” “It’s ok, I love you”. Adam used the tips of his thumbs to wipe the tears off her face, lifting Gabby’s shirt rubbing her baby bump. “Love you so much more.”

All the way over in Jacksonville, Brianna was getting ready to film a BTE bit. She had agreed to film with Brandon and Frankie Kazarian, and was a bit excited. “Alright, Brianna you ready?” Brandon asked, Bri nodded enthusiastically. “Kaz you ready?” She looked over at Frankie and he was glaring at her. “Yeah, I’m ready.” He said in a sharp tone.

She went back and got into place and Brandon started filming.

Bri was hunched over looking through Twitter on her phone, not watching where she was going. “OW- What the shit!?” Frankie Kazarian yelped. Bri quickly looked away from her phone to see that her foot was on top of Frankie’s heel. “Oh my god. I am so sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going-” she rambled. Frankie was steamed. He was already angry, as usual, and this made it a MILLION times worse.

“You know what I am sorry for BRI-ANNA?” He asked quite loudly which made everyone turn to look at him. “I'm sorry that someone as talented as Joey Janela wasted his hard earned money on someone like you.” Bri opened her mouth to apologize again but was cut off. “HOW are you even back here? I don’t know if you have read the fucking signs EVERYWHERE, but this is for talent only! What talent do you have Bri? Besides getting on your knees for people other than the Lord himself?” Kazarian was extremely dramatic with everything he said during BTE- but this seemed a little too real.

“Like honestly, as soon as you get here you have Marq Quen following you around like you’re important; and then the very next day I SEE you talking to Cash Wheeler- who has only been here for a couple WEEKS?! I’m surprised you didn’t all go in a room together and fuck yourselves, or maybe you did.”

Bri was actually concerned. “How the hell does he know who I’ve been with… this wasn’t in the script?” She began to notice everyone around listening into her conversation whispering to each other. “This is so embarrassing.” she thought. “What else have you done here? You’re by far the LEAST relevant outta of your little friend group, and you crave attention so much - so now you got it! Should I go off and check everyone you’ve batted your eyelashes at since you’ve been here?” 

Bri shook her head no, but it was too late. “There was Marq of course, then when you got bored with him you crawled over to the new hottest thing; Cash Wheeler. But do they know who you’ve had between them?” Bri’s eyes slightly widened.  “You had made heart eyes, with not one but ALL members of Team Taz. What is wrong with you?! Two of them have families of their own, You damn homewrecker!” She saw some of the people backstage shake their heads. 

“Kaz… stop.” she mumbled under her breath. 

“Nah nah, don’t be quiet now you fucking cheater! Everyone has heard you, like when you thought since you were in a janitor closet with Austin Gunn no one would notice the strange moans coming out of them?” Shit. Bri was tired of hearing this man exposing her, “I told you - that wasn’t me. This arena is old, could have been a ghost Frankie.” she lied of course, but she would do anything to get out of this situation.  

“Last time I checked we were at a wrestling arena not a damn haunted mansion. Everyone is smart enough to know the difference between a moan full of fucking pleasure from a cry from a ‘ghost’.” 

Brandon Cutler began to lower his camera but Kazarian yelled at him. “Don’t you fucking dare cut this! We’re all about being real, well THIS right here,” as he points as Brianna, “Is as real as we’re gonna get. Because some people are stupid enough to let bitches like this come in here and suck off the whole roster.” Bri was shocked. 

“Who are you calling a bitch? I know the least important member of SCU isn’t talking. Let me talk to Scorpio.” she rolled her eyes, there was no way in hell this was getting posted online. “Sorry, he’s trying to stay away from women that seduces half of the indie wrestlers on Dark.” 

Bri slapped Frankie with tears starting to form into her eyes, “You ain’t shit.” and she meant every word. She didn’t care that Cutler was calling her name, or even some of the wrestlers trying to stop her- she had to get out of not only this situation, but the arena as fast as possible.

The Elite

The The Elite

The Elite

The The Elite

The Elite

The The Elite

Superkick PAAARRRR-

Tan Legs

“Why are there so many rooms in this damn arena?” Adriana questioned as she was acting like she was looking for Tony Khan’s office. She had been searching everywhere as Brandon Cutler followed her with his camera. The camera cut to her in front of the Elite locker room, raising her hand to knock at the door. A relieved Kenny popped in the doorway. “Oh Adriana, am I glad to see you!” He moved over and invited Adriana into the room, closing the door behind him. 

“Well, I would love to sit here with you Kenny, but could you show me where Khan’s office is-?” Kenny pushed his finger onto her lips making her shush. “Shhh, I can show you where his office is. But I need something from you since Matt is busy handling phone calls.” 

Her face lit up to the mention of Matt’s name, but she had to stay in character, so she immediately nodded and mouthed an okay. She sat down in the chair, across from the couch Kenny was sitting on. “You’re a little far, wouldn't you say?” he said as he began to shift to the edge. “Uhm, that depends what exactly am I doing?” As she looked at him with confusion. 

“Just move a little closer.” Kenny demanded. “We gotta get this over with.” Adriana’s mouth slightly fell open, in shock of the words coming out of his mouth. “I- I’m sorry. What do you mean get this over with-” Kenny chuckled, “No one was out there right- you came alone?” She nodded quickly, unable to speak; she could feel the room closing in on her, making her move her chair slightly to where he was on the couch. He looked at her weird, “Haha a little closer than that Adri.” 

He said as he leaned over folding his hands. “Well, how close do I have to be?” she tilted her head up giving him her full attention. “I mean…you’re still a little far for what we have to do.” She began to pull her chair forward, but Kenny pushed her back down lightly and stood up. “What WE have to do?” She asked, not understanding the signals he was giving to her. At this point she was losing it on the inside, he’s never been so forward with her. His hands began to adjust the band of his gray shorts. 

“Yea, hey you mind getting on your knees?” he asked with all seriousness in his voice making Adriana almost fall out of her chair. From the corner of her eye she could see Brandon’s eyes widened a bit. She looked up and saw a slight smirk from Kenny, which made her roll her eyes. “He knows what he’s doing.” she thought in the inside of her head. Kenny stood there , looking stupid as Adriana came back to reality. 

“O-on my knees? Are you sure?” As she began to crawl out the chair. “Uh yea- I know this isn't your first time, but I thought you would be more prepared.” he joked. She had almost let out a laugh. “Oh, and take that ponytail holder on your wrist and tie your hair up- this could get a little messy.” as he pushed his shorts down his legs- making her face to face with his package. She felt Brandon move closer to get a better shot of her face, and she wished he hadn’t. She shot her head back, letting out a sigh. “Damn, he is bigger than I thought.” She closed her eyes, and tried to gain control overself. She did a slight prayer as she closed her eyes and opened her mouth slightly, waiting for Kenny. When he placed it in her mouth she was shocked, it was thick… but cold. 

She opened her eyes when she heard Kenny freaking out. “ADRIANA! STOP BEING RIDICULOUS! DID YOU SEE HOW WHITE MY LEGS ARE?” Adriana also started freaking out as she spat out a bottle of tanning spray. “STOP LOOKING AT MY RIDICULOUS QUAD DEVELOPMENT AND GET THIS GOD DAMN QUICK TAN ON MY LEGS STAT!” Kenny yelled.

 “YES- TAN! RIGHT, NOTHING ELSE.” as she scurried to pick up the bottle.  Adriana had struggled unloosing the cap not only because of the commotion, but because of the fact she thought she was about to get filmed for a porno with Kenny Omega. “ADRIANA! HURRY UP. THE COLOR OF MY ARMS, AND THE COLOR OF MY FACE DO NOT MATCH THE COLOR OF MY LEGS!” He pouted as she finally shook the can getting ready to spray but then it accidentally slipped out of her hands. “SPRAY MY LEGS!” 

She shot the cap throwing it somewhere in the room. “God, I’m an idiot.” she said to herself. “Sorry Kenny, I didn’t know they were this pale-” “MAKE THEM ORANGE!” He ordered, making Adriana spray faster. “Eh it’s looking… pretty good!” he said while examining his now newly tanned legs. “I knew I could count on you. Thanks.” he said. 

“You’re so welcome, sorry I don’t know why that was so hard for me to do.” She said as she got up from her odd position to sit on the end of the couch. “Why were you so freaked out-” He asked as he spotted the spray can top in the corner of the room. “I’m not sure honestly, it’s just something I do nowadays.” She lied, but he didn’t think anything of it. 

He took the can out of her hand and popped the cap back on as he sat next to her, “Anyways, since Matt isn’t in here. You should get over here and suck me o-”

Stolen Bit Partner

“Did you see how big his biceps were?” John Silver said, walking down the hallway with Alex and Parker, arms hooked. “You were right John, his milkshake sure does bring all the boys to the yard.” Parker said, chuckling slightly. Alex was about to protest what Parker was saying, but agreed. No one could deny that Wardlow was a beautiful human. The trio kept walking, talking about the man who’s locker room they had just left, when they bumped into another trio, one that Parker was very familiar with.

The Best Friends and Orange Cassidy.

They all stopped in their tracks. That’s when Alex detached from Parker, him and Chuckie going around in a slow circle, sizing each other up. Trent and John just looked at each other. And in the middle of all of this, Cassidy took off his glasses, and started looking Parker up and down.

The rotating finally stopped when Chuck spoke up, “You stole my bit partner, Reynolds.” “Oh, YOUR bit partner?”

And so the argument began, Trent bending down to get in Silver’s face, and Chuck and Reynolds pushing each other back and forth. Behind it all, Parker looked over to Orange and waved, but when he didn’t even give a sup motion, she turned away, a defeated look on her face.

“At least I’m not in a cult with a bunch of spooky perverts!” “Well these spooky perverts have a better hug than you guys!”

“What even is a ‘Johnny Hungie’?!” Trent yelled, “Well what the fuck is an ‘olive tit’ TRENT?!” “Boys, Boys! Please!” Parker yelled, standing between all of them. “Did they experiment on your brain!?” Chuck questioned, looking down at Parker. “What- Okay. No they did not experiment on my brain!”

“Did they TRAIN you to say that?” Trent said jumping at Silver. Parker pushed Trent back lightly. “Train Trent? What do you think we are? Some kind of cult?!” John argued. “Yes! That’s exactly what we’re saying.” Chuck answered.

“Y’know what?!” Alex grabbed Parker by the arm, “We’re leaving!”

Parker swatted Alex’s hand, that look on her face. “I think I’m going to...be on Sammy’s vlog instead.” She gave a nervous smile before walking behind the camera, “See ya Brandon.” “Uh, bye.”

Alex pointed his finger in Chuck’s face, Kool-Aid container still in his hand, “This isn’t over.” Reynolds and Silver walked away when Chuck mumbled, “We’re in the middle of a pandemic, keep your hand out my face.” Trent and Cassidy looked at each other while Chuck walked away. Trent shrugged one more time before following.

Orange just sighed, minding his own business.

Hungry Hungry Hippos

The room had conversation and laughter, when Trent spoke up, “Uh, BTE Championship match, triple threat.” The camera panned over to the left, “Marq Quen checking in.” Marq said with a smile, Isiah waving from behind him. The camera panned past Trent to the right, “Parker here, with uh, Chuck Taylor.” Chuck and Parker looked awkwardly at each other before Parker looked back at the camera, “My other friends decided to be dicks and not show up.”

Brandon pointed back towards Trent, who explained the game, “So uh, we’re playing the game Hungry Hungry Hippos, first one to get to two victories wins my BTE championship.”

The next scene showed all of them surrounding a table. “I am a GOAT at this game.” Marq said, rubbing his hands together. Parker pointed at him, “Oh yeah? Well prepare to lose Quen.” 

The game had started, and the game had almost fallen off the table. “Y’all are so aggressive!” Matt Jackson laughed, pointing out how seriously they were taking the game.

Marq had quickly gotten the first victory. Trent and Parker groaning at their defeat.

“Already halfway THERE.” “Shut up!” Trent and Parker said in unison.

And the games went on, until all of them were tied with one victory each.

The three looked at each other, before talking to their “coaches” for a moment. 

They had all returned to the table, and the tiebreaker had started. This round was definitely the most aggressive, with Trent actually trying, Marq jumping up and down making noises, and Parker trying to be as quick as possible.

When all the marbles were gone, they had each counted them up.

Trent had gone first, only having 5. Then Parker counted theirs, having 8. Marq counted the last of the marbles.

“Five, Six,” He pulled out the last marble, “Seven.” Marq had dropped to the ground, while Parker jumped up, knees almost to her chest in victory. “New BTE champ!” Nick said, grabbing the championship and handing it to Parker.

Parker held up the championship, before looking at it, “I have to go rub this in Adriana’s face so she gets mad at me.” She was about to leave the room, when she stepped back, “Oh yeah, I promised Marko I would fight him for this if I won. So next week, we balance KitKats on our heads.” “You’re gonna WHAT?!”

The screen showed Parker vs Marko for next week, for the Being The Elite Championship.

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And thanks so much for Being The Elite.

The Elite The The Elite

What Nick you’re not gonna sing it all with me this time?

Brianna was so embarrassed. How did Frankie even know all that? She kept thinking to herself, “Did Marq tell everyone?” He wouldn’t...right? This was just all too much for her, cause of some stupid mistake.

She stayed outside the arena the whole show, not wanting to show her face in there. Then wrestlers and producers started walking out, some mumbling when they looked over at Bri. She looked over at the people walking out, and saw Marq and Isiah. Marq and Brianna stared at each other, before Marq looked away, almost like he didn’t want to look at her. She watched them pack up and drive off, and she heard a familiar voice call out from behind her, “Hey Brianna!”

She looked over her shoulder and saw Cash walking over to her, and they both started smiling. That smile quickly turned back into a frown, when Dax grabbed Cash by the arm, dragging him away.

Great. 

She went back to staring at the ground, upset. She almost jumped back when someone sat next to her. “They said we can delete it.” Brandon Cutler said, trying to sound sympathetic. “Thank you.” Brianna mumbled. “Look, we got Kaz to calm down, and he’s gonna talk to you about it,” Brandon put his hand on her shoulder before getting up, “Hang in there, alright?”

“Could this day get any worse?” Brianna thought to herself.

When of course, with Brianna’s luck, it could. She felt something drop on her head, then her arm, then ankle. It’s like the rain started on command. “This is so fucking cliche.” Brianna said, standing up and walking to her car, not without one of her heels breaking. 

She waited until she got in the car, and then she screamed, at the top at her lungs. She just wanted to go to sleep, and find a fucking way to prove Kaz wrong.

Back at the Hotel

It had been months. Months since Parker and Chuck broke up. She wanted to talk to him outside of BTE for months. But she didn’t have the guts to do it.

She was watching tv in her hotel room, thinking about him, like always.

She pulled out her phone and facetimed Gabby, the only person she could really talk to about this stuff. There were a few rings before Gabby picked up, clearly irritated, “Girl it is half past midnight. Why are you calling me?” “I need to talk to him.” “Talk to who?” “Chuck! I can’t keep putting it off anymore.”

“Well then just talk to him?” “I can’t just discuss that over the phone.”

“Well, ask if you can talk in person.” Parker nodded, and went to her contacts, and clicked on the one she hadn’t touched in months. She read through the last of his messages to her, she didn’t answer.

It made her feel horrible.

She finally worked up the courage to type it out, “Can we talk? Like in person?”

“Okay, I did it.” “Great, now you just have to wait and see what he says.”

“Gabby, I’m sure he’s sleeping right now. And I can’t blame him if he doesn’t respo-” Parker paused, and looked like she had just seen a ghost. “Parker? Everything okay?” “....He texted back.”

“Well what did he say?!”

“He said of course, and then his room number…” “Well then go!” Parker got up quickly, tripping over her own feet walking to the door. “Wait wait Parker!” “What?”

“Put shoes on, don’t be a hobo.”

Parker laughed, quickly putting on some shoes, before hanging up on Gabby and making her way towards the elevator.

She waited when it opened, Trent coming out the elevator. “Oh, hey.” Parker said, looking at her feet. “He sent me to James’ room so you guys could talk.” Trent said, slightly laughing. Parker didn’t say anything, “Hey, it doesn’t have to be awkward y’know. We’re still cool.”

Parker smiled, and hugged Trent, before getting into the elevator. 

She walked out the elevator, for once walking with some pep in her step. It stayed that way until she reached the front of his door. She reached her hand up, and was about to knock when she put her hand down.

Well, not without hitting the door.

When she realized, she started freaking out. In silence of course. The door creaked open, Chuck and Parker looked at each other. “Do you wanna come in?”

Parker nodded, walking through the doorway. She sat on the couch, rubbing her hands awkwardly, looking at the floor. “So, what did you need to talk about?” He asked, sitting on the opposite side.

She could feel it coming, word vomit, “I made a mistake, and I know I did when I broke up with you, but I couldn’t work up the courage to talk to you cause I know you want nothing to do with me and-” “Wait wait, you still…” “Yes I do, and I know things will never be the same and just...I know this was a mistake.”

“Parker, I have been waiting to talk to you. Just at least when you’re ready. I miss you.”

Parker continued to look at the floor, slightly smiling. Chuck lightly gripped her chin, lifting her head up. “I love you, Parker.” Parker smiled, “I love you too, Chuck.” 

For the first time in months, they shared a kiss. “I missed having my whatever.” Chuck said, foreheads pressed together.

“Now can we please go back to being bit partners John keeps saying my name over and over.” The couple laughed, “Of course, I’ll tell James to stop giving you dirty looks.” “And I’ll tell the spooky perverts to not argue with you anymore.” The couple jumped when they heard the door open.

“I forgot my bag of chips.” Trent said, walking into the room. “God Trent you could’ve texted.” Chuck said, slapping his forehead. “I did. Did I interrupt something important?” Parker and Chuck looked at each other and smiled.

Trent started to “ooo” like he was in middle school. Parker stood up, cheeks red, “Okay on that note I’m leaving.” She started towards the door, “I love you Parker!” Chuck yelled out. “I love you too.” She was out the door when she heard Trent, “OH MY GO-” The door closed, and Parker laughed listening to Chuck yelling at Trent to shut up.

Parker walked towards the elevator, glad to have that situation of her shoulders and to have Chuck back.

“So, what's next for you two?” Trent asked, sitting back on his bed. Chuck looked out the window, “I don’t know yet exactly, I just know that I can’t lose her again.”

Back at Daily’s Place

“Did you see the look on Brandon’s face, it was priceless!” Kenny and Adriana had just finished their BTE bit and were now laughing at themselves for how clever they were. “Dude, I think we’re geniuses. Only we could come up with stuff like this.” Kenny said while holding his stomach from laughing. 

“You know, for a second I thought you were serious.” Adriana said after wiping her tears. Kenny tilted his head to the side. “What are you talking about… my legs were actually white as paper.” She shook her head, “That’s not what I’m talking about and you know that.” Kenny seemed to understand her a bit clearer now as he scooted closer next to her. “Do you really think that I would let you give me head at our job?” He asked with interest in his eyes. She began to start breathing heavily noticing their knees were touching. 

“You’re right - what was I thinking. You’re all business.” She sighed and put her hand on her face covering it up. Kenny thought it was cute how she was trying to hide from this conversation instead of talking about it. “That’s not true. I do childish shit all the time. And if we really wanted to, it would be way more than just head.” 

Adriana felt like she was powerbombed on the apron. “Plus I don’t see you as a person to give head in weird places like this EVP room, in a public bathroom, or even inside of a car.” He added. Her head whipped up so fast she thought it would fall off. “Right, why would I do that? That’s gross and disgusting-” she lied. If only he knew… “What’s gross, having sex with me or giving head in weird places?” She opened her mouth to speak but decided against it. 

He noticed as he rested his hand on her thigh. “I saw the look in your eyes Adriana. The way you looked at me when we did that bit for Being the Elite, is something I won’t be able to get my mind off for a long time. So - I am not saying it has to be today, but soon I want to hangout with you out of work. I want to know the real you.” She was left speechless, once again by Kenny Omega. “I got to go, but I’ll think about it.” 

She got up from the couch and wiped her now sweaty hands on her jeans. Kenny also stood , studying her. The way she avoided eye contact, the way her feet shuffled trying to gain her stuff immediately. His heart started to get louder as she finally looked at him and reached for a hug, making him open his arms. It wasn’t anything like he wanted. It was short and meaningless but he did get the chance to smell the perfume she was wearing and that alone made him swoon. Kenny gave her a wave as he sat back on the couch, “Shit.” he mumbled. “What have I gotten myself into.”

 On the other side of the door, Adriana was trying to come back to reality. “That really just happened.” she thought. “Did you have fun with ‘Spray Tan’ in there?” a voice asked sarcastically. She jumped up and when she turned around she was met with a frustrated Matt Jackson.  “Oh! Jeez you scared the hell out of me. I didn’t know you were here today.” She mentally slapped herself, “I really need to learn how to lie.” 

Matt leaned on the wall looking her over. “Really, last time I checked - I was an EVP. You on the other hand - are not - so what were you doing in this room for that long?” He asked. Adriana bit her lip, they hadn’t seen each other since their session in the car and both of them were aching for more ever since. “I had to record something with Kenny for BTE. It’s not that serious.” Matt ran his hand through his hair shooting his head back. “I saw the segment, Adri.” He plainly said. “Is this what we’re going to do? We’re going to act like what we did was nothing?” He walked closer to her sliding his hands to her waist. He lifted his hand to move some of her hair out of her face and leaned in to whisper in her ear, “Meet me at the Jacksonville Jaguars Stadium at 10 O’clock. And wear a bathing suit.” He hovered his lips over her neck before patting her ass and then walking away. 

Adriana stood there dumbfounded. She had waited a whole week to be able to get to see Matt, since they last met in the car and all she got was teasing. She looked toward the EVP room and sighed. She was so confused with emotions, she needed to get this stuff with Matt out of her system before it was too late. Adriana began her walk to her car, so she could get ready for a night with Matt Jackson.

“I SWEAR NONE OF THESE HOES ANSWER THE PHONE WHEN I NEED THEM!” Adriana threw her phone onto the bed after attempting to call Gabby, Parker, and Bri and of course they declined. Every. Single. Time. “Guess I have to go at this alone.” She sighed. She really missed talking to her friends, no matter how annoying they got. She would never feel complete without them. 

She pushed her friends to the back of her mind as she threw clothes out of her suitcase. After 15 minutes deciding which bathing suit to wear she chose a normal two piece with some shorts and a normal tee to go over them. After she changed in the bathroom she grabbed everything she needed and headed out the door. 

She pulled up to the stadium and parked confused on where to enter until her phone buzzed. Matt Jackson : I see your car, we’re the only ones here. So I’ll let you in.” Adriana chuckled. She got out the car fluffing her hair so she appealed somewhat decently. She saw Matt waiting for her at the entrance. 

He picked his head up from his phone and let out a low whistle. “Well damn, I was not expecting this.” He fumbled with his keys as she rolled her eyes. When they finally got in he took her hand and led her to the pool. She removed her shorts and shirt as he did the same. Adriana dipped her toe in removing it as she felt how cold it was. 

Before she could react she was pushed into the pool and when she got to the top for air she saw Matt jumping and doing a cannonball, making water go everywhere. Matt swam around a little before looking over to a shivering Adriana. “Yo-you’re an i-idiot.” Her teeth chattered making Matt laugh. “Ah, stop being a big baby and swim with me.” He slapped water onto her making her gasp. “I think I should wait till it gets w-warmer.” She smudged, making Matt swim over to her. 

“I have a couple ways we could speed up the process.” She smirked. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he backed her up to the edge. He lightly pressed against her, making her let out a small whine. “If you’re going to do something just do it.” She said, clearly impatient. He pressed his lips onto hers, as she kissed back. He began to lower his hands trying to find the part to disconnect her bottom. She smirked into the kiss making him hungry for more as he pushed his tongue onto her bottom lip. She opened her mouth a little, only to hear a “IS ANYONE IN HERE?” Adriana tried to disconnect, but Matt pulled her back. “Whoever it is, will either go away soon or get a free show- I couldn’t care less.” Adriana pushed Matt off making him groan. She heard the door open and was shocked when Kenny Omega came out in swim trunks. 

“Oh, it’s just you guys. What are you doing here?” he asked, confused. “Nothing much, just going for a late night swim.” Adriana lifted her finger to her mouth as she could feel her lip swollen at how hard Matt had bit it. Kenny nodded, “Right… mind if I join you?” He asked. Matt mumbled something too low to understand. “Of course, come on.” She smiled. “There it is again, that damn smile.” He felt weird seeing her in a bathing suit and it was even more weird seeing one of his best friends next to him. 

Matt turnt around and faced Adriana , so Kenny couldn’t hear what he had to say, “He totally just cockblocked me. It had to be on purpose.” He whined. Adriana rolled his eyes, “He didn’t know. Leave him alone, let's just save our first time somewhere other than a public pool.” He scoffed, but he couldn’t stay mad at HER. 

It was Kenny who was the problem, and he would make sure that he stayed out of the way.

WE’RE BACK FAM!!!! Thanks again to my co-writers @westanaew​ and @adriii-omega​ , it feels great to get back into the series! <3

[megibluedragon]

SenGen Harry Potter AU - Goblet of Fire

Big thanks for fanart created by ぱっど. You can find her works on Twitter as  @ptt_pdch She inspired me to write whole fanfic about this so here you go. Please read bellow. 

It is also on ao3 under this link: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23684791      Comments would be cool :D

           Gen threw paper with his name into Goblet of Fire. Hogwart’s students cheered. Gen took a look at Senku. He send him angry glare and turned around to leave crowd around him. Gen wasn’t happy with that reaction so he ignored everyone and followed blonde boy. He found him in empty hallway because most of people stayed around Goblet of Fire interested in people brave or crazy enough to throw their names in there. Gen grabbed Senku by his wrist because he wasn’t slowing down even if he probably heard loud steps behind him.

- Senku-chan what’s wrong? – Gen asked with a smile.

- Why did you do that?! – Senku turned around and ripped his wrist out of Gen’s grasp – Only crazy fools compate in that dangerous tournament!

- You worry too much – Gen waved his hand – It was only a joke. Guys from Slytherin dared me to throw my name in there and now guess what? I won big money pretty much doing nothing because Goblet of Fire won’t pick me as Hogwart’s representative.

- What if it will pick you? – Senku with worried tune in his voice. Blonde noticed this and cleared his throat – People die in this tournament!

- Then~maybe I will compete? – boy said in teasing way.

- No, then you will resign and they will pick someone else – Senku corrected.

- Senku-chan you are no fun! You know that? – Gen whined.

- Promise me you won’t participate in this mess – ruby eyes looked at Gen in serious way. Gen started feeling his cheeks burning when he realized something. Senku usually either ignored Gen making tricks on people or was joining him but this time he looks actually worried.

- There is nothing to promise because I won’t be choosen – Gen turned around and run back to other people unable to stand Senku’s stare any longer. Blonde just turned around and walked away. He didn’t want to deal with people again being stupidly excited over tournament.

           Students and teachers from all magic schools participating in tournament gathered in main hall of Hogwart. People were interested who is gonna represent them this year. Principal caught slightly burned piece of paper which flew from Goblet of Fire. He read who will represent Durmstrang Institute. Next was Beauxbatons Academy of Magic’s turn. Students cheered for their promising looking representants. It was finally Hogwart’s turn. Gen sit relaxed on his chair. He knew quite many people from Hogwart threw their name into Goblet of Fire this year. The chance of picking him was too little to worry even one bit.

- Asagiri Gen! – principal announced loudly. Gen felt shiver travelling through his entire body when he heard his name. He stood up and joined other choosen students while hearing students cheering for him. He couldn’t lie that being choosen didn’t feel good.

- I… - bicoloured boy started and found Senku in the crowd. He had ,,I told you!” look on his face. Gen didn’t want to give blonde satisfaction about being right and smirked – I’m honored to represent Hogwart! – he finished and heard another cheer from students.

           It was time for first round of tournament. Gen didn’t talk with Senku since choosing representant for schools. Blonde was clearly mad and other boy knew what he would say if he would start the talk so he choose to prove him that he can handle himself instead. He didn’t expect to win but wanted to have some fun and maybe get second place.

           Gen waited in big tent with other students. Finally teachers showed up. One of them had a bag. Gen could swear it moved.  Students were asked to pick one thing from bag. Bicoloured boy was first and reached inside. Something crawled on his hand and he had to use his whole willpower to not squeal. Gen saw little green dragon on his palm.

- The Welsh Green – said Crouch and let other students pick another two lizards from the bag – These represent three very real dragons, each of which has been given a golden egg to protect. Your objective is simple. Collect the egg. This you must do, for each egg contains a clue without which you cannot hope to proceed to the next task. Any questions? – students looked at each other and everyone understood now why they had to bring their flying brooms.

- Very well, good luck, champions – said principal and all adults left the tent.

           Gen was suppose to go as last person. He was kinda getting stressed so he sat down on one of beds to calm himself. Boy wasn’t neither good or bad at flying. Lack of knowledge about dragons also wasn’t helping with his nerves. It’s been two minutes since student girl from another school entered arena to go against her dragon. Suddenly he heard rustle of one of tent's sides. Gen stood up to check it out. Boy moved material and saw Senku on the other side.

- Senku-chan?! – Gen was genuinely surprised seeing Senku here.

- Shhh… - Senku hushed Gen – You know you are an idiot?

- You came here just to said that? – he responded with pouting face.

- You can still resign – blonde continued.

- And look pathetic in front of everyone after accepting? I have to pass at least one task to not look bad – boy was getting slowly annoyed.

- I thought you will say something like that – Senku sighed and realized they are just wasting time – So I came here to help you survive. I know dragons quite well since I also have pet snake.

- So you also like people from Slytherin? – Gen asked in charming way since he belongs to Slytherin. At this point thanks to Senku’s presence he felt relaxed. He just remembered how hat gave Senku choice if he wants to be in Ravenclaw or Slytherin because he fits both. It was a shame he picked Ravenclaw to be around people who actually seek knowledge.

- Focus, mentalist! – blonde ignored other boy – What dragon did you pick?

- The Welsh Green – he answered while coming back from his thoughts.

- Alright. We don’t have much time left. I will tell you weaknesses of that dragon so you can survive and get that gold egg – Gen nodded – Listen well because I will only say it once – Senku started explaining weak points of green dragon and Gen actually focused to not get himself burned on arena – Just come back in one piece – Senku finished and moved material to close open space in tent. Gen was left alone again until he heard his name and cheers coming from arena. He took deep breath and walked out of tent with his flying broom remembering everything Senku said to him.  

           Gen was second fastest thanks to Senku's help. He was able to avoid all fire attacks and get gold egg quicker than he thought. Now he knew his face was safe even if he would resign from next two tasks. But he really wanted to know what is second task since it’s all of them are different every year. He already had egg with hidden clue. It was possible to figure out answer before next round will even start. Gen wanted to check it out in peace so he went back to his bed in dorm to rest and figure out clue. Boy moved gold thing in his hands. There was nothing on the surface. He touched the top which moved and opened an egg. Agonizing scream spread across the room and everyone covered their ears. All men looked at Gen in annoying way.

- Sorry! – boy closed gold egg as fast as he could. He still heard ringing in his ears. It stayed there for few minutes. Just then Gen could collect his thoughts again – I’m NOT opening this again – he murmured to himself and got up from bed. He had better idea how to deal with this.

           Student from Slytherin went to lab room because he knew Senku would be there when he feels good, wants to be alone or feel stressed. So that would be most of his extra time he had for experiments. Gen wasn’t sure how blonde will react to his offer. He was counting on his natural curiosity to take over.

           As Gen expected Senku was sitting behind one of desks with some elixirs. He was too focused to notice someone entering the room. Blue eyes followed hands handling beakers in delicate way. He really didn’t want to disturb his free time but he needed his help. Gen moved in more confident way to not scare him with quiet steps. Senku heard company and stopped his work. He lifted his ruby eyes at mentalist who now stood near desk. Blonde noticed gold egg in his hands.

- Thanks for help with the dragon – Gen started to scratch Senku’s confidence and give him at least half of the credit even if he only created the plan and wasn’t avoiding flames on flying broom. They both knew Senku would probably fall from broom sooner than dragon would reach him. That would be bad to mention out loud so boy zipped his mouth before making a joke about that.

- Well it wouldn’t work if you were bad in flying – responded and went back to work. Gen took it as compliment and noticed sudden curious look toward gold egg.

- Speaking about reward from first task – Gen changed subject seeing chance – I’ve been trying to figure out clue from this gold egg but when I opened it it started screaming – Senku lifted his eyes as Gen again – I saved reputation by passing first task but I want to at least know what is second task to decide if I should resign. I don’t want to open this again and risk my ears bleeding so I went to you. Maybe you can figure it out? That’s something interesting right? – he extended gold egg towards Senku. Gen saw vine popping out on other boy’s head. He really tried to resist. Mentalist thought it’s cute and moved item in his hand to tempt him a little bit more.

- Let me take a look at that – Senku left all his work and grabbed gold egg from others hands. He started looking at shiny surface – You said it screamed when you opened it?

- Yeah, you don’t want to… - Gen saw Senku reaching for top of the egg – Wait! – Senku didn’t listen and opened the egg. Screams echoed even louder in bigger room. Gen covered his ears because other closed it after three long seconds not like mentalist just second after opening it – I TOLD YOU TO NOT OPEN IT! YOU COULD HAVE WARNED ME! – Gen rised his voice because ringing was hurting his head again.

- I needed to hear it myself. Your word about it screaming wasn’t enough for me – Senku sticked finger inside his ear hoping ringing will stop. He noted in his head bringing headphones for this – I need to do more tests on this. It could take a while. Do you have time?

- Are you gonna open it again? – he asked.

- Yes – he nodded while bringing to himself notebook and pen.

- Then I’m out. Call for me when you figure it out – Gen moved towards the door and then left the room.

- What am I doing? It’s not my problem. Not my egg. He should sit here and at least watch me work – Senku mumbled to himself with frustration not sure if he was angry at mentalist for leaving him his problem or for not wanting to keep him company as thanks for help.

           All Senku could do was focus his mind on mystery of gold egg. Clue shouldn’t be too hard to figure out. He heated egg with fire since it's dragon egg. Boil it in water. Looked at what's inside with headphones this time. He noticed bubbles under shell. Senku recorded that scream and compared it to sound from other creatures living near water and in water. 

Trions fit this sound and Senku knew they sound horrible out of water but beautiful underwater. When he put egg in normal water screams were gone and there was something like humming. Senku thought he figured out what to do but wanted to show final effect in Gen’s presence.  

           Gen expected to get answer from Senku in lab but all message said was ,,Meet with me in men’s bath at 1am. Take swim trunks and towel”. What was that suppose to mean?! Was all Gen thought while slowly walking towards bath. Was this about gold egg or Senku wanted to spend some enjoyable time because they were only fighting ever since Gen threw his name into Goblet of Fire? Blonde didn’t mention egg at all. Mentalist was getting nervous and excited because more signs were pointing at some alone time in the night, in the BATH of all places. Gen stopped in front of door and heard steps on the other side and then splash of water. Senku was probably already there. Bicoloured boy took deep breath and walked inside.

           Bath was already full of fog and warm inside in enjoyable way. If he will uncontrollably blush, he will blame high temperature. Senku was already sitting in shallow pool. He turned around hearing footsteps behind him. Gen wondered how his spiky hair are still standing but he noticed few strands of hair starting to fall because of high temperature. He couldn’t help but also look at his bare chest. Not build but also not thin. His abdomen was clearly showing some muscles. Gen felt like true twig around here. He swallowed and bit lower lip when his eyes followed few water drops travelling from shoulders to lower part of chest and back in pool.

- Are you going to stand there whole night or get in here? – Senku couldn’t help but chuckle. Gen was brought back into reality and left towel on shelf already feeling embarrassed. He joined Senku in pool and sat with respectable distance from him. Gen slashed himself with water up to shoulders. He felt the need to do something with hands. Standing there like petrified was already stupid. Now he couldn’t even look at Senku.

- So… - Senku didn’t want awkward moment o last any longer. He reached to his side, took something and in a second closed distance between him and Gen. Mentalist slightly jumped when he noticed gold egg being presented right in front of his face. Boy looked surprised at another who was clearly proud of himself – I figured it out. I mean I still don’t know the clue but I know how this egg works. So I called you here to show you.

- In the bath? – Senku only nodded. Gen just realized true answer was clue about second task and not need to spend time together. He somehow felt disappointed but he didn’t want to ruin it. He was still in the bath with Senku. They could deal with gold egg first and then maybe relax a bit more later. With that thought he focused on hearing Senku’s results of experiments – So how it works?

- Clue has something to do with tritons. Their voices sound horrible out of water but under… - Senku put egg under water and opened it. There was no scream but other quiet sound coming out – Let’s check out how it sounds under water – Senku smirked and dived his whole body into pool while still holding egg. Gen followed him.

           Both looked at each other. Gen loved the way Senku’s hair were flowing underwater. Like they just remembered they don’t have to be spiky all the time. He rurned his gaze towards egg because it was opened again. This time there was no scream but very beautiful female voice. Boys listened to her short song. Melody was relaxing but lyrics sent bad shiver through spines. Lack of air forced both students to finally grasp some air above water. Gen still wasn’t sure how to respond to that clue so he looked at Senku. Mentalist again held his breath because it wasn’t often to see blonde with wet hair now going down and reaching his shoulders. He got a bit of jealous of students from Ravenclaw probably seeing Senku like this more often. He should let his hair down like this from time to time. Was what Gen thought. Sadly beautiful hair were mixed with grim look on Senku’s face. Gen didn’t like that combination. Boy didn’t even looked at him and got out of pool, still holding egg but closed this time.

- If this clue is trying to explain what is second task then I think contestants will have to swim with tritons for an hour and bring back some item – Senku said while drying his body with towel. Gen realized there is no extra time to relax in pool so he sighed and also got out of water.

- But breathing underwater for an hour is impossible so we probably need to use some kind of spell or elixir to help with that – Gen finished and also started to dry his body with towel.

- You don’t want to participate in this right? – blonde looked at Gen kinda shocked – Do I have to remind you how deadly tritons are? They are even worse than dragons. Underwater nobody will control what is happening and know if help is needed.

- Senku-chan I’m really charmed by you worrying about me so much but tritons don’t attack if you don’t piss them off. They keep their distance or just swim away. Well unless they are desperate to hunt but lake near Hogwart is full of food. They aren’t starving for sure. Maybe that’s why they think it will be safe to do second task with them – Gen just shrugged his arms.

- Did you heard part about bringing something from them? That’s sound like a good reason to piss them off – other reminded.

- But you have some kind of elixir that would let a human breath underwater for an hour? – Gen asked in casual way.

- Of course I have! Who do you think you are talking to?! – boy responded immediately – Don’t change the subject! I’m not giving you elixir and I doubt you will find information how to make one. Also it’s not like you would be able to make one even with instruction. You are horrible with elixirs.

- Senku-chan so mean~ - Gen felt offended this time for real.

- Without elixir you won’t be able to participate and you are gonna be disqualified – blonde sent triumphant stare at Gen – Problem solved. I will finally get some sleep.

- You are not sleeping because you are worried about me Senku-chan? – mentalist was honestly shocked. Senku ignored Gen and left the bath. Blonde didn’t have time to hide his red ears which other noticed. Mentalist considered jumping into water again to cool his heating up face.

           In the night Gen sneaked into Senku's part of lab looking for mixture but didn't find it. He figured Senku would hide it near him. Getting into Ravenclaw part was harder but not impossible. Gen avoided people patrolling hallways. He finally found room with Senku’s bed. He hoped blonde really went to sleep than stay awake to look out for him. He held his breath and entered room. It was dark everywhere. Everyone was sleeping. Only Gen’s wand was giving little light. Mentalist found Senku. Boy looked like actually peacefully sleeping. Boy started looking through drawers. There was nothing he needed. He looked under bed and noticed bunch of boxes. Inside were some books, equipment, personal stuff like clothes. He even find box with pet snake. Animal hissed at boy. He wasn’t happy about someone disturbing his peace. Student hoped Senku didn’t wake up from that. He finally found box he was looking for. There were elixirs inside. Each had label to not get mixed. He found one that looked like fastly pushed in there. That was probably the one which Senku tried to hide. Gen took it and felt his throat tightening. Senku expected Gen to look for it in lab but believed he wasn’t stupid enough to sneak into his room to find it. Thanks to that he was sleeping peacefully right now. He clearly betrayed his trust right now. Gen whispered ,,Sorry" knowing that’s not enought and he will have to work hard on getting his trust back after all of this. He silently left room and went to check in some books if this elixir was the right one. He promised if it’s not then he will really resign because he wasn’t going back to Senku’s room. He would rather resign. Guilt was already twisting his stomach.

           Gen showed up near lake because after checking some books he found information that elixir he took was correct. He was lucky because book only explained how this mixture worked and not how to make one. Senku wouldn’t explain it to him. He didn’t even see blonde anywhere. There was already big crowd near lake. Boy figured Senku probably realized his mixture was gone and was mad at Gen so he didn't showed up. Student felt another guilt twist in his stomach. For now he pushed emotions aside because he needed to focus on task. No one explained what they had to collect from tritons. Teachers just said they will know once they see it. Gen didn’t want to ignore the fact that mad tritons are dangerous. Senku was right. Stealing something from them will probably make them mad. Gen looked at mixture and drank it. It was too late to resign now. He dived in lake with others after hearing signal.

           The moment he went underwater big bubble grew around his head giving him needed air. It was still weird to breathe in place like that. First breath was the hardest because he automatically held it while diving. When he realized everything is alright he followed other two contestants.

           Gen thought tritons are guarding some treasure or personal item that they should retrieve. They for sure looked creepy while lurking nearby. As he expected they didn’t attack when they saw him. Tritons were only following in while keeping safe distance. They were clearly interested what humans were doing in their territory. Gen stoped following them with his eyes because he noticed three people drifting in water. Their legs were attached by rope to the ground. Gen understood now why teachers said they will know what they have to bring back. Student from Durmstrang already cut one rope and was going with choosen person towards surface. Gen got there the moment when other girl saved her friend and was fastly swimming up with her.

           Amon hostages Gen recognized Senku as last person still tied by the rope. Bicoloured boy was shocked and moved to him faster. He was really pissed off at that moment. Gen thought they will just grab some item but they were using real people for this. He was mad at teachers for putting Senku in this situation. Mentalist was sure he didn’t agree to this idea and was probably forced. Probably other two people also didn’t want to do this. Gen was disgusted by this whole idea.

           Gen checked Senku's vitals and it looked like he was under spell which kept him unconscious but still alive underwater. He hugged Senku to himself and took a look at tritons which for some reason looked more mad than when other people were rescued. Mentalist cut rope holding Senku's leg and started swimming to the surface. Tritons also swam dangerously close. One of them touched Senku's green hair fascinated and then hissed at Gen. Boy realized tritons probably liked Senku's appearance because of flowing green hair. While he would agree with their taste he didn’t want to share Senku-chan with them. Gen speeded up but then tritons started pulling Senku down by his legs. Gen got even more mad and reached for his wand. He started casting spells to push tritons away from Senku. Last spell pushed them faster to the surface. Air bubble popped. Senku woke up and coughed few times. Spell casted on him probably wore off. He looked confused not sure what's going on around him.  Gen felt tears building up in his eyes and hugged Senku tighter to himself.

- I'm sorry! I'm so sorry Senku-chan! Please forgive me! I'm sorry! - Gen was repeating with breaking voice. 

           Senku hugged Gen back without saying anything and just focusing on breathing for now. He let mantalist bring him to shore of the lake because he still felt exhausted from spell that was casted on him. Gen thought cheers around them was noisy. He couldn’t care less. Someone threw towels towards them. Bicoloured boy grabbed them and instantly covered Senku to not let him catch a cold. Boy was leaning on his torso without a word. Gen wasn’t sure how blonde was feeling right now. He didn’t want to push him.

           Medical personel took Senku to medical hall in school to check his condition. Same thing happened with other two hostages. They wanted to make sure their health is alright. Now they were carring?! Thought Gen still furious. He visited Senku who was laying on medical bed. He looked completely awake now. His hair was still a mess but he didn’t have time to fix it.

- How are you feeling? – Gen asked with shy voice. He wasn’t sure if Senku even wants to talk with him now or he should leave.

- Better – he responded and slowly sit up on his bed – I would probably fall over if I would try to run but it’s still better than right after getting out of water.

- Senku-chan I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault – he covered face with his hands and slightly leaned over.

- It’s not your fault… I mean it is – he heard small gasp and noticed Gen starting to shake. He really felt guild taking over him – I mean… - Senku tried to correct himself and took one of Gen’s hands in his own to look him in the eyes and get his attention. Boy looked at him with glossy gaze from forming tears – Participating in this tournament was your fault but dragging me into this mess wasn’t. When I realized you stole my elixir I was going to stop you but one of the teachers showed up in front of me and with quick ,,Sorry” casted a spell on me. I blacked out and next thing I remember was waking up in you arms in water.

- It’s still my fault. If I would resign from participation in second task then teachers wouldn’t risk your life without your permission – Gen countered still didn’t feeling better about this – It was scary. Tritons thought your hair are pretty and wanted to keep you. It was really hard to push them away from you.

- Pretty huh? – Senku chuckled and moved strand of his hair with free hand. He noticed Gen slightly blushing but wasn’t feel like laughing. Blonde really wanted to fix that – Gen, listen to me – he gently squeezed other hand and Gen looked at him again – I couldn’t warn you what contestants will have to bring from tritons. I’m actually glad you went all the way with this task and didn’t resign the moment you were near lake. By that time I was probably already underwater. Other contestants would save their hostages and I would end u palone there. You said tritons didn’t want to let me go like others. That means even teachers would have hard time bringing me back or in worst case scenerio I would be tragic accident of this tournament. But you dived in there and didn’t let tritons keep me. You saved me, mentalist. That’s what is important. Got it?

- Senku-chan~ - Gen sobbed and he couldn’t hold it. He hugged Senku to himself again. Senku just returned hug.

- What about third task? – Senku asked still holding Gen.

- I don’t care about that. I already resigned from whole thing and got disqualified. I figured I can’t show myself to you again without doing that first – Gen answered and Senku smiled with relief.

- Gen I didn’t want to ruin your fun. I just didn’t want you to get hurt – blonde admitted and pushed Gen away from himself but now he was holding his hands. They were still in each other personal space.

- I really appreciate you worrying about me but this time your lever of protectiveness reached the roof of Hogwart. Was me getting potentially hurt only reason for that? – Gen asked in more teasing way. Guild was draining his energy. Senku’s words were already lifting his spirit. He thought maybe getting back Senku’s trust won’t take as long as he expected.

           Senku blushed a bit thinking what he should say but in the end decided to give Gen quick kiss on the lips for an answer. Gen was shocked and looked at Senku who was even more red than before. Gen smiled softly and put his hand on Senku’s cheek. Then he leaned over and kissed Senku. This time they kissed longer than before and blonde returned the kiss. Gen wanted to reassure him that he shares similar feelings with him. He was so glad Senku is safe and promised to never put him in danger like this ever again.

[atths--twice]

Not Giving Up

Today I saw a post on Twitter of a gif when Scully holds Teresa’s baby and ugh... the way Mulder looks at her, and the subsequent cuddling they do in his room later... well, I had to write something. Hope you enjoy. ❤️

Continuation of the conversation in bed in Requiem. What happens next, as they share the grief of the miracle they lost.

May 2000

“There is so much more you need to do with your life. There's so much more than this," he said softly, gently stroking her face as she cried. “There has to be an end, Scully.”

He kissed her cheek and held her closer, his head on her shoulder. She clasped his hand and pulled it near her mouth, taking a deep steadying breath. She heard him whisper her name and she swallowed down a sob.

“You can’t ask me to leave, Mulder,” she whispered. “Not without you.” He let out a breath and she kissed his hand. “I… you can’t ask me to do that.”

“Scully…”

“No.”

They fell silent and she closed her eyes, another tear escaping, despite her efforts to stop them. She drew in a deep breath and shook her head, squeezing his hand as she let it out.

“Why are you asking me to leave?” she whispered and he exhaled.

“I’m not. Not exactly. I just… seeing you with that baby, Scully…” He sighed, his breath against her cheek. “You… deserve a home full of children, if that is what you want. Little shoes on the floor, toys scattered everywhere-”

“Mulder, stop. Please,” she said with a sob, the image too painful when all there ever would be was an empty apartment. No happy sounds of children, or even one child. Not ever.

He pulled her tighter and she cried, hearing his deep breaths, knowing he was crying too. Drawing in ragged breaths, she stopped her tears, wiping at them almost angrily.

“It wasn’t meant to be. We tried and…”

“Scully…”

“We…” She choked on a sob and he pulled his hand from her grasp, and rose from the bed. She turned her head, crying into the pillow as he pulled the covers back, the pictures upon it slid without care to the floor.

His arms were around her again, pulling her close, the blankets no longer a barrier between them. The warmth of his body, his arms, the scent of him, caused her to cry even harder as she could hear him whispering her name.

She would be lying, to herself and to him, if she said that holding Teresa’s baby had not made her feel something, as much as she tried to hide it. The weight of him, the sweet unmistakable baby smell, his soft head… she had ached as she held him.

When Teresa had brought them Ray’s medical files, she had motioned to take him back, but Scully had insisted she should explain the files to Mulder. Teresa had smiled and walked away, taking the files to the table and spreading them out to show Mulder. Scully had only half listened as she walked around the room with the baby, pushing down the images of a life she would never have, even as they tried their damndest to rise to the surface. She had smiled through the pain, ignoring it as she did the large lump in her throat.

“I… I didn’t know it was truly something I even wanted… not until…” She breathed and he sighed heavily.

“I know. I know, Scully. And I… I wish I could have given you what you wanted. I hoped it would work.”

“I know…” she whispered, her tears subsiding. He kissed the side of her neck and she took a deep breath as his leg hooked over hers, pulling her closer.

Silent again, she shook her head, imagining the baby they would have created. Boy or girl, he would have spoiled it, and insisted on teaching it everything he knew.

By the time she had the procedure, he had almost known more than she did about IVF; reading books and finding out information to share with her. If it had been successful, he would have been there for everything, driving her crazy with every new thing he would have discovered about pregnancy…

“No,” she said forcefully, needing those thoughts out of her head.

“No, what?” he whispered and she shook her head. They had cried about that enough, she was not going to continue dwelling on it.

“No, Mulder. I’m not leaving,” she repeated just as forcefully and he sighed. “My place is here with you. This is my job… and it’s… it’s where my heart lies. I can’t leave. Not without you.” She shook her head again and he nodded against hers.

“Wouldn’t really be getting away then, if we both go,” he teased softly, attempting to lighten the mood.

“Exactly right,” she whispered, closing her eyes again.

“You jump, I jump?”

“Mulder…” She shook her head and opened her eyes, turning over to face him.

His eyes were sad, despite his attempt at humor. Placing a hand on his cheek, she shook her head, staring into his eyes. He closed them, took a deep breath and pressed his forehead to hers.

“I don’t want you to leave, Scully. I do… but I don’t. I… I just want you safe.”

“You think I’m not?”

“I… I don’t know what to think. Being here, seeing those who had been taken, having a better life… a happy life… I just…” He shook his head slightly and she closed her eyes.

“I’ve had a happy life, Mulder. I have a happy life. A baby… a baby isn’t… wouldn’t lessen the happiness I’ve had.”

“But it could add to it,” he said softly, and she sighed, unable to argue with him.

“Still not leaving though, even if that were a possibility that was attainable.” He sighed and she moved her hand to his neck, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “Not on my own.”

“Where would we go?” he whispered and she smiled slightly at hearing the we .

“Someplace warm? Isolated?” she suggested and he hummed.

“Would you be bringing a bikini along?” he asked softly and she exhaled a breathy laugh as he did the same.

“If we’re isolated, would I really need the bikini?”

“It’s all about the anticipation, Scully. The bikini represents a goal, something to work for,” he explained, his hand lightly stroking her hip.

“But you already know what’s under said bikini. There’s no mystery there.”

“Well, that’s technically true, but it’s the anticipation, like I said. It’s thinking about what’s just under it. Hmm, that’s the good stuff.”

“Hmm..” She hummed and let out a sigh, both of them once again falling silent.

“But you won’t leave,” she whispered and he stiffened. They both knew she was right.  Of course she was.

“We’re so close, Scully. Back where it all started. That’s gotta mean something.” She sighed and pulled back, opening her eyes to stare at him as he opened his own.

“I’m not going anywhere, Mulder. Not now. Not ever.”

“Scully… I…”

“Shhh,” she said, placing a finger against his lips. “You stay, I stay. I’m not leaving you here alone.” He nodded and kissed her finger, his eyes searching hers.

“You stay, I stay,” he agreed in a whisper and she smiled sadly at him. “I love you.”

She stared at him, her mouth falling open slightly, his words surprising her, although they should not have. Of course he loved her, it was not as though she did not know, but hearing it, seeing it in his eyes, she was taken aback. Tears filled her eyes as she cupped his cheek, swallowing hard as she tried to formulate the words and say them back.

“Scully,” he breathed, his grip on her hip tightening, his leg rising higher. He smiled so softly, it nearly broke her heart.

“I love you. God, Mulder. I love you so much.” She burrowed into his neck, crying with happiness, as he rubbed his hand up and down her back.

When she was able, she pulled back, staring into his eyes again before she kissed him. Gently, chastely, until his tongue touched hers and it was like an explosion.

Clothes were removed and thrown to the floor, until they were skin to skin, his lips at her clavicle, her fingers in his hair. He entered her in one thrust and she gasped as she clung to him.

A slow rhythm was established, their eyes on each other the entire time. When she broke, she arched up, breaking their eye contact and digging her nails into his arms. He slowed, allowing her to catch her breath and her grip to slacken. Looking into his eyes again, she nodded, and he once more began to move.

She listened to his breathing, the way he would hold it when he was getting close. She cried out as she felt him swell deep inside of her. A few more thrusts and he stilled, calling her name as he crashed over the edge.

He lay atop her, breathing hard into her neck, her limbs wrapped around him as her heart raced. Her body hummed with pleasure and she exhaled heavily, closing her eyes as she did.

“Scully,” he breathed, kissing her throat, and raising his head. She opened her eyes, staring at him with a small smile. Kissing her softly, his tongue lazily stroking hers, she moaned into his mouth.

Pulling back, she held his face, kissing him once more before he began to move. He kissed her stomach as he rose up and she gently caressed his head. He smiled as he stood up and she smiled back, her hands roaming over her body.

“So beautiful,” he said, shaking his head and she hummed, closing her eyes briefly.

They both used the bathroom, picked up their clothes and the photos that had been pushed to the floor, and got back in bed. Scully lay on her side with Mulder behind, his arms wrapped around her.

One hand moved low on her stomach and stayed there, his fingers splaying out. She covered his hand with her own and bit her lip.

“Mulder. Please,” she whispered, not ready to think about it all again. It was done. The universe had given her her answer.

“I’m not giving up on the possibility of that miracle.” he whispered back. “Not just yet.” She held tighter to his hand as she closed her eyes. “Miracles happen every day, Scully. Why can’t that day be today?”

Taking a shuddering breath, she nodded, her fingers lacing with his as she prayed for a miracle she knew she would never receive.

[vinylhazza]

ok but like having a really bad day and then when you get home e gets mad @ you for something and since your day has already been shitty, him being upset w you is like the last straw so you start to cry and then him being all soft and feeling bad bc he didn’t know you didn’t have a good day and he hates to see you cry 🥺

you’d been yelled at by your boss for something you didn’t even do. falsely accused of screwing up in a business meeting. and being the kind person what did you do? you took the blame for your friend/co-worker. you really took the slander with pride, but in your car? the tears wouldn’t stop.

you always aimed to impress and you loathed people being mad at you and being embarassed. in your opinion there was nothing worse. and maybe that’s the one thing you would fix about yourself and wish one day to leave behind - stop trying to please everyone and stick up for yourself.

the worst part is she never even thanked you, just watched you swing your purse over your shoulder with blushing cheeks when you briskly walked through the office and slammed your finger into the button in the elevator that was much too slow after what just happened.

you just wanted to go home to ethan and hold him until you forgot that disappointed look on your boss’ face while he lectured you on good work ethic. you were amazing at your job, really. you just stuck up for that bitch brianna for the simple reason that you didn’t want her to be mad. it was a lose, lose situation all around. but you would change your decision and re-do that conversation if you could - tell your boss she fucked up and not you. tell your boss she costed the company business with one of the largest corporations they’d ever worked with. but you can’t turn back time.

you kept your mouth shut until your slammed your car door shut...and then you screamed. at the top of your lungs. you bursted into a rage that had tears running down your heated cheeks. how dare that bitch look at you with a smug smirk - oh you wish you could smack that stupid fucking look off her face. you had worked your ass off to get this job, it was your dream.

you had jumped through hoops and built an image for yourself that you always wished you would have. you were well respected which is something you’ve always had to fight for. you showed integrity and grit - everything a business would want. and all you can think about is that horrid conversation about “morals” and “values” and “what you can do to fix this behavior”...he even asked you to persuade them to work with the business still.

it was a traumatic day and you just needed ethan to hold you close. you needed him to kiss it away and talk you down and take a hot bath with you and snuggle into the sheets, maybe hum your favorite songs like he does when you’re upset or anxious. you needed your man right now after this day. you just needed ethan.

but when you walked through the house and saw him standing in the kitchen, hands on the counter, head hung low, shoulders slumped, you grew anxious once again. he didn’t look happy in the slightest. you almost didn’t speak to him, near turned your sorrowful ass around and went straight back to the bedroom. but instead you set your keys on the counter, purse on the table, and walked in to stand beside him.

you can feel the tension hovering in the air, thick as molasses. when he looks up, his eyes show his emotion plain as day, angry. you’d only ever seen him angry on a few occasions, but it was never at you.

“you wanna explain to me what the fuck is going on y/n?” he deadpanned, standing up tall with bulging arms crossed over his broad chest. he’s looking down at you with this look...like he doesn’t even want to be here. like he wants to be anywhere else but here having this conversation.

you’re frozen in place. you actually can’t believe that 1. your boss was pissed at you and 2. the one person that could make it better is pissed at you. it was the world laughing in your face is what it was.

“no? i really don’t know what’s going on ethan i just got back from work-“ you try to stifle the fire with a calm voice.

“don’t give me that bullshit, i saw the picture,” his voice raising an octave higher.

“what picture ethan what the hell are you talking about?!” you’re panicking now, lost in a dark haze of confusion while he looks at you with that same disappointment in his eyes. with every step you take towards him, he takes a step back, not letting you touch him.

it genuinely feels like the world might come crashing down, your breathing shallowing out, knees getting weaker, eyes filling at the waterline. what the hell is going on here and what picture is he talking about? you are always either at work, with him, or with your best friend at all times. so whatever picture(s) he is pissed about must be a mistake.

“that’s real nice, play dumb. if you don’t want to be with me, then say something, but this? really? i really thought i meant more than that but i guess not,” he turns to walk away, shaking his head at you, disgusted by something you know nothing about.

and then the tears fall.

“baby i- i really d-don’t know what y-your talking about please d-don’t be mad at me whatever it is i didn’t m-mean-“ you hiccup, holding your palms to your face while you have your breakdown in the middle of the kitchen, legs giving out beneath you. you expect to sink to the floor, but instead feel strong arms wrap around you tight, keeping you standing and pressing you into into ethans chest.

he realized quite quickly he was dead fucking wrong about what he’d seen on the internet. he had jumped the gun too quickly without giving you a chance to explain. he never even let you get a word in. but that was irrelevant at this point because you’re gasping for breath in his arms, clinging to him like a lifeline. he had seen a picture of you with another man, a man that was cupping your face while you kissed. it had spread around twitter like wildfire with captions like:

“and to think he said she was the one last week”

“i done told y’all she was sketch”

“she’s a fucking cheater and i knew it”

“making our baby look dumb, y/n i just wanna talk”

“a whole ass 🤡 who would cheat on ethan fucking dolan?”

“guess that means we were right all along”

“you can even see in the picture she doesn’t feel bad about it. makes it even worse.”

“tHeY aRe mEaNt tO bE all of you look so dumb right now huh? clearly she’s a fake bitch that used him for the clout and the money”

“so who’s coming to fight her with me?”

“drop the adress i just wanna talk”

“this right here is why they don’t date 🤷🏻‍♀️ but y’all ain’t ready to talk about that”

it hit him like a ton of bricks, actually making him sick to his stomach, absolutely heartbroken. he loved you with his entire fucking heart, adored you and everything that came with you...but how could you do this? when was this picture taken? why would you play dumb when he knows you’re on the same internet he is, you can obviously see.

but...something wasn’t right. he knew that as soon as you broke down into his arms in a fit of hysterics, he was wrong and he could feel it. whatever and whoever that man in the picture is...he would hear it from you and you alone. the woman he trusted. but right now you needed him, so he rocked you in his arms and pushed his suspisions aside for the time being.

“shhh calm down sweetheart, it’s okay, i’m right here,” he whispers, kissing the top of your head, a hand rubbing your back while the sobs die down to sniffles. he waits for you to calm down from your breakdown patiently, feeling like nothing but a dick for being so harsh when he didn’t even know the full story.

when you back up to hold his hands, looking up to see his face soft and worried, you nearly cry again. you had no idea what was going on but you did know you needed him and needed him to not be mad at you. whatever you had to do to calm his anger or whatever was making him act this way, you would.

“wanna tell me what’s wrong baby?” he questions calmly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, bringing one of your hands up to his lips for a kiss on the knuckles, getting that tiny little smile out of you he loved so much.

“i just...had a horrible freaking day at work. i got screwed over and i’m worried it’s to the point on no return and i’ve lost respect at the one place i’ve worked so hard to excel at,” you mumble quietly, rubbing your nose and swiping the tears from your cheeks.

to have him being gentle with you is all you needed all day. you know you need to talk about that blowup he had when you came home, but for right now you’re taking what you can get.

“explain everything to me bubs, let’s go,” he tucks your hand in his own, waiting for you to slip your shoes off and hear the patter of your feet follow him across the house, down the hall, and into the bedroom.

“don’t you wanna talk about...whatever that was?” you’re so confused, why is he being so loving if he sounded that betrayed and angry? he was too good to you.

“we can talk about that later, now lay back against me and spill,” he rests back against the headboard, patting his stomach twice, indicating for you to rest between his legs and lay back against his chest.

you can’t argue with that when it’s been what you’ve longed for all day. so you slip your blazer off and toss it in the hamper, walk to the closet and grab the tshirt of his you always wear to bed and a pair of sweats to change into. when you’re done changing and have your hair in a messy bun on top of your head, you’re slipping onto the bed and resting back against his warm chest.

within an instant his arms wrap around you and you’re ranting feverishly about the day from hell. you explain everything from the coffee spill in the car to briannas fuck up all the way to the big boss man busting your ass in his office for nearly an hour. he’s listening patiently, nodding his head and humming, placing kisses to your shoulders every now and then, even a little “fuck her” when you really get going about briannas betrayal. he lets you get it all out of your system with open ears.

when your all done and tired out, you feel like the weight has been lifted and you can sink back into him further, your eyes closing and head falling back onto his shoulder. he rubs your arms all the way down to your hands, where he plays with your fingertips. within a few seconds he’s providing you with advice that is actually soothing you more than anything, explaining what to say to your boss and how. he’s assuring you that all hope isn’t lost and your respect is fragile but still intact, you just need to fight for yourself because you worked too hard to be made into a mockery.

he can feel you relax with every word he says near your ear, he knows it’s working. when he’s given you all that he can and you agree that it would be the best option to explain in full the misunderstanding and ensure your boss that no, it wasn’t your mistake but you are willing to turn the situation around because you have the skill to do so. a redemption so to say. it’s exactly what you needed to hear and it blows your mind that he always has the right words - well...sometimes.

“okay so now that we’re done with that...wanna talk to me about this ‘picture’ you saw?” you ponder, picking at a string hanging from the sweatpants.

he decides he needs to word things a little better this time now that he has a level head. he acted out of anger and pain and that is most certainly not what you need, especially today.

“i went on twitter this afternoon and saw a picture of you with another man.” there he said it. take it or leave it. what you say next will be what heals or breaks his heart.

he’s sort of surprised when you don’t tense up in his arms, you simply hold out your hand.

“can i see?” your gesture to his phone, remembering yours is still in your purse in the kitchen.

he nods silently, reaching for the device on the nightstand and setting it into your open palm. you put in your fingerprint and click on the twitter app, knowing what you’re about to see is obviously some big misunderstanding that (once again) got blown out of proportion and twisted into something it wasn’t. the joys of social media and stan twitter.

you immediately see this picture everyone is losing their minds over, knowing immediately how it might look. but you also know you were correct in your theory and everyone has it so wrong.

the picture is of you and your ex kissing, him holding your face, three years ago. your hair was the same color and length, you can see why there might have been some confusion. but it was still misconstrued and wrong.

“so?” ethan waits anxiously for you to say something since you’ve been staring silently at the screen for about three minutes now and haven’t said a word.

you know words hold weight, but backing up those words will mean more to him than anything. so you choose not the speak at all. you head over to little ole facebook, something you rarely use, but something that will ease his mind right here right now.

you log out of his account and log into one of yours that should have been deleted when you made your new account. you click on the “pictures” option and scroll until you land on a collection of pictures to go along with the one of you kissing your ex. you simply show ethan the collection of different poses of you two in the same place, smiling, serious faces, a cheesy “couples” photo shoot. you then show him the date the photos were uploaded, seeing his eyes widen and cheeks turn rosy with the realization that the internet, once again, flipped out for no reason.

“remember the ex that cheated on me with my roommate from college?” you speak softly, knowing he’s quite embarassed for his actions and making you feel worse on your horrible day. he nods.

“i’m guessin’ that’s cody” is all he responds with.

he just knew he was wrong. someone had found this public facebook and discovered these photos with your ex and plastered the one of you kissing all over twitter, instagram, you name it - it was there. they twisted the image and made it into something it wasn’t. they had made him overthink and become insecure, worried that you didn’t want him. of course you were loyal, you’ve never shown him any different.

“fuck i’m really an ass aren’t i?” he chuckles, throwing his head back and shaking his head in disbelief that he was dead wrong about something. what was he thinking? as if you could ever love or much less look at anyone else besides him.

“no honey, just...maybe let me explain before you immediately freak out on me yeah? i need conversation not accusations,” your tone soft and easy, knowing he feels bad.

“i’m sorry for getting a little mean with you,” he apologizes sincerely, hugging you closer to his chest and leaning in to kiss you on the cheek.

“it’s okay, i forgive you. we were both just a little frazzled today, that’s all. lack of communication can do that sometimes. the internet is a scary place,” you reason. this day has been one hell of a day, kicking both of your asses mentally. it’s something as simple as a picture taken out of context or a bad day at work that can cause a pointless blow up, but at least you know how to tackle these situations together and not point the finger until you know the facts. it’s growth and that’s never a bad thing.

but now you need what you’ve needed all day. you can tell he needs it too. all the crying, the frustration, the straining of your brain to comprehend the plethora of daily bullshit was exhausting.

“wanna take a bath with me bubba?” your tone hopeful. you know he’s comfortable, but you also know all the extra tension is cured with a nice bubble bath.

it doesn’t even take him but a second to nod with a fond relieved smile, tilting your head up to give you a kiss.

“bubbles?” he questions hopefully, standing you both up from the bed and pulling his shirt over his head while you remove the tshirt and sweats you just slipped on - you’d just wear them after.

“bubbles” you conclude with a grin.

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

two years too late, chapter s e v e n

wc:  6.5k

Your mother had raised a woman of class. Which is why, even though you didn’t really want to, you climbed into the leather backseat that night, greeting Roger with a smile. You had work, it was late. Too soon for a sleepover, you thought. You weren’t going to give it up that easy. That didn’t stop the butterflies in your stomach when he kissed you goodbye, his hand on your face as if pulling away would lead to catastrophe. 

The string of green lights above the dark streets of New York seemed to smile down at you, the cold air coming in from the cracked window next to Roger fluttered up your spine. The radio played songs just for you, a text lit up your screen when the car slowed to a stop outside your building.

Harry S (11:21pm): Might sound weird. Going to say it anyway.

Harry S (11:21pm): I can’t wait to kiss you again. 

So maybe that’s why you couldn’t sleep--the desire to kiss him over and over again that had been lying dormant inside for years was suddenly at the surface, and better yet, it wasn’t a fantasy. This wasn’t a day dream in lecture or a fleeting thought when you scrolled past a picture of him on instagram, wondering where he was and how often he thought of you.

Sleep didn’t come until 2am--after tossing and turning and questioning what type of stars had aligned to make this reality. The ceiling seemed to float higher, a constant energy buzzing inside of you until finally, a yawn. Then another, then, suddenly, morning. 

The New York winter seemed less angry, less bitter. The subway was on time and your coffee was hot. Carly was happy to see you, eager to hear all about your holiday at home over lunch, the anger somehow softened. Staff meeting was quick and everyone seemed cheerful. Wednesday bled into Thursday, Thursday into Friday. 

You were feeling generous, still floating from three nights earlier, when Carly asked to have dinner. 

“Tonight?” You clarified, pen between your teeth as you proofread your own story. You didn’t have any plans this evening, if anything, you had laundry to do and you knew Alyssa would want to order out. Fridays were meant for staying in. 

“Mhm,” she nodded. “We could just go somewhere near you. Been a while since we’ve hung out outside of these four walls,” she motioned around the common space with the plush red couches and vending machines that offered an afternoon pick me up. 

Your computer whirred on your lap, powering through the hours you’d spent on this story. Best Youtube Sensations and Why. A smirk crossed over your face when you looked up to find her staring.

“You want me to invite him?”

“I mean,” a quick shrug of her shoulders, a wave of her hand as if to dismiss your silly thought. “I wasn’t implying that--but I certainly wouldn’t be mad.”

You let out a small laugh, adjusting on the couch and brushing hair behind your ear. Light filtered in through the windows, a busy New York afternoon on the streets below. “I’ll text him and see what he’s doing, but, I dunno, he might be busy.”

“Uh, speaking of,” she said suddenly, her eyes on her phone before she twisted it around to show you. A picture, Harry walking behind Denise to the gate, half of your forehead and eyebrow, a hat on your head was the only saving grace.

“Someone just tagged you in this.”

You leaned forward, hands reaching for the phone in desperation. “What?! Me? What do you mean?”

“It’s a tweet,” she pressed something on the screen to make the picture smaller, showing you that it had been attached to 280 characters. 

You grabbed it out of her hands and held the screen close enough to your face to burn your retinas. “Bloody fuck,” you said, pushing the phone back at her before you shut your laptop. You let your face fall into your hands, a groan escaping your lips. 

Fine, Carly knew. It didn’t seem miserable so far. She wasn’t as annoying about it as you’d expected. You could butter Carly up and let her meet the love of her life--that had to hold some sort of weight in terms of whether or not she’d tattle. But everyone else--and Whitney, for that matter--that was another story.

How would it look if one of The Scoop’s employees was snogging Harry Styles at night while another was writing stories about him in the morning? 

“I mean--you can’t really tell if it’s you or not.”

“Right but that’s like the last one and if this keeps happening--”

“The last one?” she shut her own laptop and leaned forward. 

“That one that you said was a random model--that concert,” you waved a hand to jog her memory, motioning towards the kitchen where she’d brought it up, bringing all above board. “Not a model, but thanks.”

“That was you?!”

“Shhh--jesus, you can’t just be loud about it!”

“Sorry,” she whispered back, her face just as excited as before. “That was you?! Why did he have his arms around you?!”

“He was just telling me something,” you said, partially true, a shrug to really sell it. Carly knowing that you grew up down the street was one thing, her knowing that the nature of the relationship had shifted was a whole other arena you didn’t want to get into. 

“Oh my god,” she said, her smile plastered on her cheeks as she let out a big breath. “I totally want to meet him.”

“I know,” you said, words quick and laced with obligation. “Not the main issue right now,” you reminded, pointing back at her cellphone. 

“Right--sorry,” she said, opening it again to pull up the tweet. “Only a few retweets and likes.”

“What do I do?” You asked, moving closer to stare at it again. “How could anyone tell that that’s me?”

“There’s probably other photos, more of your face or something.”

“Fuck.”

“S’fine,” she shrugged, her voice pleading with you to calm down. “Laugh it off. Claim you have a lookalike who apparently lives the life of the rich and famous.”

“And what happens when no one believes that and realizes it’s actually me?!”

She went quiet at that, her eyes scanning the room before falling back on yours. “Dunno. We just have to make sure Whitney doesn’t see it--not that she’s ever on twitter.”

“She’d kill me.”

“She wouldn’t kill you,” she corrected. “She’d have questions. And she’d want answers.”

“I can’t fucking lose my job, Carly. I’m gonna have to not hang out with him.”

“No!” She said, her own emotions getting the best of her before she cleared her throat, fingers running through her blonde hair to gain composure. “I just--don’t think you should suffer that. Reply really casually to it and if Whitney brings it up tell her that you bumped into him. Total coincidence.”

You thought on it for a second--deciding it was more believable than the lookalike theory or even some type of evil twin narrative. You and Harry heading for the same gate, plausible. He lived in London. You flew out of Heathrow. 

It wasn’t totally crazy. 

“That’s not bad.”

“He recognized you from your articles,” Carly shrugged, the creative wheels turning in her head. “That’d make you look really good, actually.”

You reached for your phone, pulling up twitter to assess the damage. Carly was right. Minimal interaction--the person was just a fan of your writing, you guessed. You typed out an easy response and pressed send. 

So maybe you were getting into dangerous territory, one where business and pleasure mixed like oil and water. But Carly’s support felt genuine, like now she was a safe haven at work--her words reassuring and calming. She bounced as you walked, excited for the possibility that--if he was free--Harry might make a guest appearance in your living room to grace her with his presence. Her words, not yours. 

She promised to be cool, to swallow the smile that was glued to her lips and to count to three before she responded to anything he said. Alyssa, who’s patience quickly diminished after the sun went down, was less than thrilled about company, let alone someone who might make high pitched noises and cry tears of joy. 

Harry was briefed on your commute home, casually accepting the invitation for pizza and beer. He laughed at first, seemingly pleased that you’d let Carly in on it. Can I bring up the article she wrote about my hair cut? The one with all the gif reactions? 

The buzzer of your apartment sounded, Carly’s breath hitched in her throat and Alyssa let out a laugh. Out of everyone, she had the least at stake. Her feet were up on the coffee table, eyes on the Knicks game to prove it. 

“He’s a human,” you said to Carly over your shoulder, she smoothed her blouse and bit her lip. 

“Human,” she repeated the word as if that’d make it more true, her head nodding as you walked over to the door. His footsteps were on the other side.

When you opened it, he smiled. A black wool coat hung over his shoulders, more stubble on his chin than the last time you saw him.

“Hi,” he leaned in, as if his lips were about to press into yours. A hand to his chest, a diversion, you offered your cheek instead.

He raised his eyebrows momentarily, realizing his slip was a risky one. “Hi,” he leaned around you, offering a smile in Carly’s direction. She stood behind you, trying her best to mask the excitement in her eyes. It didn’t matter, you’d already warned him.

“Hi,” she smiled. “I’m, uh, it’s nice to meet you. I’m a big fan.”

“Thank you, heard a lot about you--nice to meet you, too,” he shook her hand, shrugging out of his coat while Alyssa bit into pizza, eyes still glued to the game.

“Beer’s in the fridge,” she spoke between chews, her greeting much more casual than it was the first time they’d met. 

“M’starving,” he said, heading over to the kitchen after hung his coat on the hook behind the door. He rubbed his hands together as he peered into the two boxes, surveying his options. 

Carly was still frozen in place, her eyes big and round when you stepped past her. You settled onto the couch, reconciling with the pizza you’d left on a plate. “Good?”

“Good,” she nodded, her voice quiet enough so he wouldn’t hear. “Wild. Unbelievable, really.”

“It’ll wear off,” Alyssa laughed playfully, referencing her own excitement the first few nights. “Has terrible manners, really.”

“Me?” Harry came back around the corner, his brows furrowed together when he bit into the slice in his hand. “What do you mean?”

“Yeah--at least now you let us know when you’re coming over.”

You shot Alyssa a look, one that begged her to change the subject. The goal of the night was to let Carly have her moment, not spill all the details of your relationship with Harry. 

“Hey,” he whined, “just want to spend time with my friends.”

Alyssa laughed and rolled her eyes, pulling her legs back onto the couch. It wasn’t long before Harry’s attention shifted to that of the game, his eyes following the ball on the screen, muttering back and forth to Alyssa whenever a basket was made. 

Carly seemed more than fine with just watching him watch the telly you kept the conversation light and focused on neutral topics. The holidays, the weather, upcoming concerts at the Garden. Harry made nice and told her he loved his time in the band as much as he said he did in interviews. 

Carly asked a few questions about your relationship with Harry--how old were you when you met? Did you ever get to go to One Direction concerts? 

Harry handled it in stride, answering her questions with ease instead of dodging them like you’d somewhat expected. Instead, he admitted that he lost touch, only thinking to reach out six weeks earlier. 

“I, uh, spoke with our friend Jake--I knew Y/N was here but he reminded me, and I hadn’t seen her in a while, so, figured I’d call.”

You tilted your head to the side, he made brief eye contact with you before looking over to Carly. “You spoke with Jake?” It wasn’t a shock, especially seeing as that cover had already been blown.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, a sip of the beer in his hand. “Caught up with him and mentioned the gang. Figured it’d be nice to see you.”

You let the words settle, Alyssa cheering suddenly when the Knicks stole possession of the ball. 

“Yes!” She screamed, arms in the air, beer pointing towards the sky. “Did you see that?” Her words were aimed at Harry. 

He laughed, turning back to you and Carly. “It’s definitely been nice to see you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes, hoping he’d get the hint: no flirting in front of Carly. 

The night went on like that, casual conversation interrupted by Alyssa’s sports excitement.

All of it was easier than you thought, largely because Carly was calmer than you’d anticipated. You’d been prepared for her to barely be able to mumble out words, but she was doing fine enough with full sentences and proper grammar. A success for all. 

You’d wondered, when Carly first showed up, if she’d need to be kicked out of your apartment, feet dragging on the wood floor when you’d inevitably tell her you were going to sleep. You hated when people overstayed their welcome, and this felt like a situation where goodbyes would be reluctant and bittersweet. 

Luckily, Carly did her fair share of yawning before 10pm, letting you know she’d take the subway a few stops back to her apartment in Chelsea. She hugged Harry and wiggled her eyebrows at you over his shoulder. A sigh escaping your lips when she was out the door.

“Good?” Harry asked, his eyebrows raised while Alyssa headed into the bathroom to get ready for bed. “Was I friendly enough?”

He walked over to you, resting his arms around your shoulders, your hands wrapping around his torso. “Yes, you were fine,” you laughed. “She was better than I thought.”

“Me too,” he nodded. “Was prepared for fainting or something.”

Alyssa appeared in the doorway to the bathroom. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she spoke around the toothbrush in her mouth. “The novelty wears off quickly.”

Harry pulled back from you, narrowing his eyes at her. “Pretty sure you cleaned the entire apartment before I came over that one time.”

“Pretty sure you’re...an idiot,” Alyssa shot back, her laugh floating up towards the ceiling. 

Harry pulled you closer, your head against his chest, his chin resting on your hair. “I’ll take it,” he shrugged. 

He pressed his lips to the top of your head, sending a wave of heat down your spine. Alyssa rolled her eyes and left to spit into the sink, disappearing into her room while you and Harry moved over to the couch.

You thanked him for tolerating Carly, he promised it wasn’t too obnoxious. You put your feet on his lap like you had at his mum’s, but this time, he let a hand rest on your thigh. 

You didn’t know what it was. Maybe the dim glow in the living room, maybe the muted telly that now moved on to a late night sitcom rerun. Maybe it was how he helped gather the empty beer bottles, tossing half eaten pieces of crust into the bin.

But when he lingered in the middle of the room, halfway between the door and you, he tilted his head. 

Stay, you said. Your bed was big enough for two. 

**

Getting him out of your house in the morning was something you hadn’t thought through. Neither was the smirk on Alyssa’s face when he stumbled into the bathroom, half asleep, her eyes watching you over the rim of her coffee.

“Relax, nothing happened,” you settled onto a chair beside her at the table, privacy granted by the closed bathroom door. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded again, reaching for a bite of the muffin on her plate. 

She swatted at your hand. “You expect me to believe that?”

You laughed, turning to look at her. With sleepy eyes and a hesitant tone, you cracked. “No penile penetration.”

Her eyes went wide, the possibilities now swimming in her head. You were saved by the creaking of the door, Harry emerged in the same t-shirt he wore the night before, boxers, socks up to his calves.

“Good morning,” Alyssa offered, a challenging smirk in his direction as he rubbed at his eyes. 

“Morning,” his voice was deep and hoarse. “Has the trial begun?” He shot a smirk back at her, poking fun at her curiosity. 

“You’re the next to testify,” you informed with a smile, heading over to the Keurig to place a mug beneath the spout. 

Alyssa laid off, though. She headed for the bathroom to shower and dress before dipping out the door to a spin class, claiming she had to be there early if she wanted a good bike. Harry lounged on the couch with a coffee in his hands, his eyes trailing you as you walked back and forth from the bathroom to your bedroom. 

Eventually, after you’d traded pyjamas for jeans, the anxiety lodged in your throat and you sat on the couch beside him. “Can we talk?”

He looked up from his phone, eyebrows dipping together when he adjusted on the cushions. “S’never good.”

“No, I just,” you took a breath, unsure of where to start or where to go. The clock above the telly clicked, a horn beeped from the street below. “There was a photo of us at the airport.”

He pushed his lips out, waiting for you to say more. 

“You can’t tell anyone you know me. You should unfollow me on instagram and twitter and--we just need to be careful. Carly showed me the picture and you can only sort of tell that it’s me, but if we keep hanging out--”

He cut you off, your rambling was too much for half past nine. “There will be more.”

“And there are more. If people start to suspect anything they’ll go digging and find photos that neither of us want anyone to see.”

He laughed at that, a small breath out through his nose, a smirk on his mouth. He sat up straight. “If you don’t want to do this, Smalls, then we don’t have to.”

His eyes trailed around the room, anywhere but you. 

“No, s’not what I’m saying.”

“Well, what? You don’t want to tell our friends, you don’t want to be seen out with me--”

“It’s not you, Harry, it’s--”

“My name?” He cut you off, his eyes sad but knowing. 

A shrug of your shoulders. You were quiet for a second, waiting to see if he would speak. When he didn’t, you stood from the couch. “I just want to focus on my career. I’m worried that this would get me fired.”

“I know,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. Another sigh, this time, less annoyed and more understanding. When he looked over at you, he offered a slight smile, the green of his eyes more vibrant on a cloudy day. “This is always the worst part.”

“What do you mean?”

“Of dating,” he clarified, his head tilted to the side and he looked towards the window. 

You felt your lip twitch into a smile, one that you tried to will away. Don’t get your hopes up, don’t be so naive. He didn’t think much of it, though, as he brushed right past it and kept talking.

“People are nosy and it’s a pain in the ass, but that doesn’t--I still want to hang out with you.”

You nodded, a mix of emotion in your gut as he stood from the couch. Excitement, nervousness, a web of thoughts that all seemed to lead right back to the same place: him. 

“Me too,” you said, standing quickly to face him in the room. “I just--I want my job as well.”

He nodded, opening his arms to invite you into his chest. Two steps forward before you felt his skin on yours, his hips against yours, his lips on yours. 

**

Alyssa knew you hated cooking. Which is why you were a great roommate, really. She would cook, you would clean. You also supplied the wine on nights like this: when she stood before the stove and you sat at the small table, watching her stir in different ingredients that you couldn’t even pronounce. 

She had inundated you with questions upon her return to the apartment--her hair up in a bun from her workout class, still sweaty after brunch with a coworker. She lifted her legs to let you vacuum beneath them, asking what it was like to have his hands roaming under your shirt. 

She was worse than Carly, in a way, less in love with him, but just as curious as enchanted, especially now that he wasn’t in the room. Alyssa was like that. She’d play it cool when he was around, but as soon as the door was shut and his car whizzed down the street, she’d poke and prod until she was blue in the face. 

She stuck a spoon into the pan, moving around the chicken that was now flooded with tomato  sauce. “I can’t believe you’re going to have sex with him,” she looked up at you, her eyes enthusiastic and eager. “This is like, unbelievable. I’m gonna have to tell my mom.”

“What?” You set your glass of wine down on the table. “Why? You do not have to tell her.”

“She loved What Makes You Beautiful,” she shrugged. 

“Yeah, well, that was like ten years ago practically.”

“She’ll be thrilled!”

“It’s not even guaranteed, okay? Who knows how long this will last.”

“Why do you say it like that?” She set the spoon down, moving over to the counter to retrieve her own glass. 

You let out a groan. “I just--it kind of feels too good to be true, you know? Why now? What made him text me that night and why does he suddenly give a shit about all of us again?”

Alyssa took a sip, she looked around the room and mulled over your question. “You’d have to ask him, if you want his answer. But don’t ruin the excitement for yourself, okay? He has feelings for you and you have feelings for him.”

“And his being famous really throws a wrench in that.”

“I know,” she sighed, setting her glass down before tending to the chicken once more. “Sounds like he was receptive today, though!”

“He was,” you shrugged. “He didn’t love it at first though. Which I get. His life is super public and me not being okay with that feels like a recipe for disaster.”

“You really think Whitney would be mad about it? I mean, I thought she was a cool boss,” she laughed. 

You spread your arms out on the table, letting your forehead fall down to rest on the wood. “She is but she also has to abide by the ethics and all of the stuff about truthfulness and integrity.” Another groan.

“So should you just be truthful with her?”

“No!” you pulled your head up quickly to look at her before burying your face again. “It’s too late now, she’ll ask why I didn’t tell her from the start, but I was just trying to have a life outside of him.”

“What do you mean?”

Another groan, you looked up, your gaze met hers and she reached for her wine, eyes wide as she waited for you to explain. “I’ve always been the girl who was friends with him,” you rolled your eyes. “My uni friends and classmates all wanted to hang out with me because they figured maybe he’d come round at some point.”

She laughed a little, her hand danced over the stove to sprinkle more oregano. 

“He didn’t, though,” you reminded, more annoyed now. “Too busy being famous and shit.”

“Okay, alright,” she tried to soothe you. 

“So forgive me for just wanting to be Y/N,” you said. “No connection to him. Just making my own first impression and being my own human.”

“I get it,” she shrugged. “The question is: do you think Whitney would get it?”

“Forget Whitney,” you threw your hands up in the air and let out another noise of defeat. “If she asks about the photo I’ll just say that I bumped into him like Carly said and whatever. I haven’t even seen any other photos,” you reached for your phone. 

You pulled up Twitter, immediately heading into your mentions to assess any further damage. Replies to your last tweet, likes, retweets. A few people asking when you’d be doing another Stupid Things list--a compilation of stupid trends or phrases or memes. Alyssa hummed over the stove.

You scrolled down on your feed, looking for something familiar to know you’d been caught up with the internet happenings, but then, your eyes trailed a familiar photo--one that had been leaked a long time ago.

You jumped as high as you could, as if space between you and the ground would make things less awkward. He’d shown up at your door, a knock as if it wasn’t out of place. 

“How long are you in town for?”

He bounced next to you, you wondered if you were both too heavy for it now, limbs much longer than they were even two years ago before he left.

“Just a week,” he said, his breath unsteady as his arms flailed by his sides. His feet hit the trampoline once more, only a second before yours, both of you tumbling down to the black surface in your parent’s garden. 

“Jesus,” he laughed, his legs tangled with yours, socks against the surface as you tried to brush the hair out of your face. 

What was he doing here? Touring the world with his band didn’t keep him busy enough this summer? Why did he show up at your house, not Jake’s or Jessie’s? Did they even know he was home?

“Sorry,” he said now, pushing himself up on his elbows, the word felt more weighted than a simple apology for knocking you over. 

You sighed, somehow heartbroken by the fact that after all this time, you still wanted to kiss him.

“Oh fuck me,” you said, Alyssa looked up from the stove and came to peer over your shoulder. “M’pretty sure my sister’s stupid friend Sophie took this picture.”

“When’s that from?”

“I don’t know, s’like 2012 or something.” You dropped your phone onto the wooden surface before you, as if holding it in your hand would make the photo harder to escape. 

Alyssa reached for it and held it up to her face. “That’s you?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t really tell.” She handed it back. 

“I know--no one knows it’s me, no one ever did except for my sister and that Sophie girl--and my friends, too, obviously.”

“So why is it popping up now?”

“Cause someone is doing exactly what I suspected!” Another gesture towards the sky in exasperation.

“Which is…”

“Connecting the dots and realizing that I know him! On twitter.”

“What did they say?”

You pulled the tweet up and showed it to her. 

“They didn’t even mention you.”

“No, but, the airport one mentioned me and I’m thinking it’s not a far jump if people start to zoom in.”

“Okay, you’re getting paranoid,” Alyssa laughed, walking over to the wine to offer you a refill. 

“Am I? People aren’t that stupid, Lyss. And if they see that he follows me or old photos of Bryn’s or something they’ll know.”

“You can still be a successful journalist and know Harry Styles.”

You sighed, wishing you could tattoo her words on the inside of your eyelids. “Only if I keep them very separate.”

“So keep them separate! S’not like you have to write about music much, right?”

“Yeah,” you sighed. “You’re right. I’ll pretend I don’t know him when I’m at work and when I’m at home I’ll snog him until morning.”

Alyssa laughed, turning the burner down and offering a smile. “Sounds fun to me.”

**

When closing time came on Monday, the main thing on your mind was how crowded the subway would be and whether or not you could talk Alyssa into making chilli for dinner. You’d written five different lists and managed to avoid a conversation about Liam Payne in the kitchen. So when you checked your email for the last time before heading out, you were not, for any reason, expecting to be called into Whitney’s office at 4:58pm.

At first you thought the worst. She’d seen the photos, you’d be fired. Someone had sent them to her and demanded to know why an employee was getting cozy with a celebrity--what type of work ethic was that? You’d have to move home. Ask your parents for money. Anxieties ticked through your brain as you counted the thirty-five steps to her corner office. 

Coats and scarves disguised your coworkers--some of whom offered smiles as you completed what you were sure was the walk of shame.

The sun had gone down outside, blinking lights from other offices greeted you through the windows when you knocked twice. “Hi, you wanted to see me?”

She looked up from her computer, a smile taking over her face when her eyes met yours. “Hi,  yeah, come in,” she said, shutting her computer quickly and pushing back from her desk. “Sorry to catch you so last minute.”

“S’okay,” you replied, taking a seat in the Sahara coloured leather chair opposite her. You clasped your hands on your lap, her smile was too wide to be upset with you, you were sure of it. “Everything alright?”

“Great, yeah, actually I have good news.”

“Oh? Yeah, what is it?” You wiggled in your chair,  an immediate wave of relief washing up when you realized you weren’t getting canned. If you were lucky, Alyssa would be in the mood for chilli and there’d be a new documentary to watch on Netflix. 

“We got an amazing offer for someone to do an interview. A long form. Photoshoot. The like. I know you’ve been itching to do something more serious,” she smiled coyly. “So I was hoping you’d do it.”

“Oh god, wow, who is it?!”

“Harry Styles!” She let out a squeal, clapping her hands together as she leaned back in her chair once more. “How amazing, right? He can be so picky about press but I guess his team was looking for something not as mainstream, y’know, not GQ.”

Quiet for a second, you had to keep your eyes from going wide, your face from losing all colour. You imagined, if you could see yourself in this moment, you looked like a shell of yourself.

“You want me to interview him?”

She nodded, her lips pressed together in a firm line, obviously awaiting a burst of excitement to come from your lungs.

You shook your head unconsciously, “what about Carly? She loves him!”

Whitney sighed, her red fingernails tapped on her desk. “I know--she was my first thought obviously cause she’s covered him for so long, but, to be honest, I’m just kind of worried that she wouldn’t be able to be professional about it.”

You bit your tongue, a sudden rise of guilt in your chest. Two options, either led to disaster. 

Interview Harry, solidify your career as a journalist and get to list yourself as one of the few people who’ve interviewed someone of his caliber. Run the risk of outing yourself as someone who actually knows someone of his caliber and all the while engaging in something extremely unethical. 

Or, pass on the interview to preserve your morals and lose a chance to further your career, likely for a relationship that would fizzle out like your friendship previously had. You weren’t stupid. You couldn’t possibly believe that this would last or be long term.

“Why can’t Gabrielle do it?”

“Too busy--she’s got two big pieces this month that she’s tied up with. She’ll be out of town one of the days he’s available, too.”

You bit your lip, toying with the idea of just coming out with all of it now. 

“I really took into consideration what you said before the holidays--I want to give you this story.” She smiled at you, a fondness in her eyes that felt both flattering and overwhelming all at once. “Besides, you’ve always been so nonchalant about celebrities, I think it’d be a good take on someone like him.”

Silence. Cleaning staff shuffled outside her door, picking up waste bins and vacuuming the office carpet. You let your eyes wander the room. A framed picture of her nieces sat beside her computer. 

“Are you not interested?”

“I am,” you looked up at her quickly, hunting for the right words. “Just nervous, I guess.”

Not false.

“So you’ll do it?” she leaned forward on her desk, a second wave of guilt crashed over you.  

Whitney, like the good boss she was, wanted you to grow as a journalist. She wanted you to be fulfilled by your work and she valued and appreciated your feedback. And now she offered you what would have been an amazing opportunity, had the interview subject not been someone you got drunk with only a few weeks ago.

A nod of your head. Words out of your mouth from a voice that didn’t sound familiar. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I’ll do it.”

**

The air was cold when you climbed out of your Uber. Your computer was clutched beneath your arm and you were only slightly offended that the doorman of Harry’s building ignored your frantic pounding on the glass door to the lobby.

If you hadn’t known Harry for over a decade, you’d be more hesitant about showing up at his flat unannounced for the second time in two weeks. You’d tried to warn him, but the four text messages you’d sent were left unread. He finally answered the third phone and called down to the doorman to let you in, but you’d rehearsed your opening line the entire ride up.

“Okay, we have a big issue.”

“What’s wrong?” he came around the corner of the sofa, pulling a jumper over his head when you crossed your arms. You hadn’t the slightest clue what he’d been doing all day or why he hadn’t answered your messages, but you didn’t have time to greet him before launching into the problem at hand.

“Whitney wants me to interview you,” you said, unzipping your coat, your eyes locked on his as you waited for a reaction.

“What?” his eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

You let your hands slap your sides, frustration boiling over. “She said your team agreed to do an interview with The Scoop and she wants me to do it.”

“Shit,” he said, his eyes drifting left. 

“What do you mean shit?” Panic seemed to rise in your core.

“Well,” he spoke quickly, “Phoebe mentioned doing an interview the other day with a local website but I didn’t think it was yours.” He started to pace in the living room, hands in the front pocket of his jumper as he shook his head.

“Great,” you said, anger rising in your voice. “This is great.”

“Do you want me to cancel it? I’ll just cancel it.”

“No! You can’t cancel it. This is huge for my career.”

The words felt contradictory. You’d previously been hellbent on privacy, fearful any tie to Harry could ruin your status of employment. And while it might, now a part of you felt eager to cover him, boost your reputation as a good writer. 

“Well you don’t sound too excited,” he rolled his eyes, stopping on top of the white carpet that laid above the polished wood floors. His feet were socked--dark circles under his eyes when he rubbed at his chin.

“Well I’m not!” 

He paced again. 

“I have to interview you because I told Whitney before Christmas that I wanted more long form work--you know, real news!”

“Well then what do you suppose you tell her?”

You let out a huff of air. “I don’t know.”

He was quiet for a moment, the hum of the telly in the other room seemed to drift down the hall from his bedroom. 

“Can you do it and just not tell her we’re...friends?”

The word hurt more than you cared to admit, so you shrugged. “Dunno. I guess.”

More quiet. He let out a sigh before moving to sit on the couch. “If you think about it,” he looked up at you, his elbows resting on his knees, “that might explain the photos, right? Once you put the story out, people will assume that the airport photo was because of the story.”

“What about the concert one?”

“Can’t tell it’s you.”

You thought on it for a second. Whitney must not have seen it. She seemed to be busy enough with the upcoming award season and the start of a new podcast that she must have just missed the slight buzz of excitement. 

No one else at work aside from Carly cared enough about Harry to pay attention to his hold over the internet. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea. 

“It would take a few weeks, the story, that is,” you thought aloud. “A few sessions of interviewing, a week of writing, a week of editing. There’d be a photoshoot somewhere in there.”

He nodded, urging you to continue. 

“So by the time the story is out if she sees any photos of us from the last month she won’t even know if they were recent. She’ll think it had something to do with that.”

Another nod. Hope in his eyes. 

You closed yours and let your head fall back, stomping a foot on the ground in frustration. “This is ridiculous. I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Doing what?” He asked, his stare still on you when you opened your eyes again.

“Interviewing someone I’m...seeing.”

He cracked a smile at that, standing from the couch to come over to where you stood. “Oh come on, you used to ask me a ton of annoying questions when we were kids. It’ll be like old times.”

“Yeah, minus your tongue down my throat.”

“We can still do that when you interview me?” he wiggled his eyebrows and laughed, pulling you into his chest.

“If you behave,” you said. “Let me ask all sorts of questions and give me good answers. None of your vague and general bullshit.”

He let out a howl of a laugh at that, dropping his arms from around you altogether as he walked towards the kitchen. “Maybe I’ll only give you that. The worst interview I’ve ever given.”

“You’re neglecting to remember that I could write an entire story about the time you slipped down the stairs in Year 7 or when your trousers ripped at that dance when we were fourteen.”

He looked at you over his shoulder, his eyes pointed and playful. “You wouldn’t dare.”

A shrug. A smirk on your lips that could only be removed by his mouth on yours. “Maybe I would,” you threatened.

read the other parts here

AN: ohhhh shit. lmk what ya think! 

tag list:  @clorenafila​ @ainsleesolareclipse @castawaycths @harryspirate @wanderlustiing @ursamajor603 @thurhomish @omgsharry  @stepping-into-the-light @rachkon​ @jdcharliewhiskey @sad-little-asshole  @shawnsblue​  @gendryia​ @g0bl1nqueen​  @laula843​  @flooome​  a-woman-without-a-plan @awomanindeniall​  @shaw-nm​ @staceystoleyourheart @ohprettylittlemind​ @anssu-amry​ @my-fandomful-life​ @stylesfantasy​ @bookingbee​  @mleestiles​  @haute-romance-quotidienne​  @craic-head-horan​ @talk-british-2-me-britbritharry​ @at-least-im-1​ @paigemck00​ @rawmeharry​ @pinkpolaroidgirl​ blackxxmagicc

[lady-divine-writes]

Klaine one-shot “Home Sweet Home?” (Rated NC17)

Summary:

While spending the first night in their brand new home, Blaine and Kurt come to realize that the old residents may not have exactly left yet. (2198 words)

Notes: Written for @sunshineoptimismandangels and inspired by the Klaine Valentines 2019 prompt 'You Take My Breath Away' by Queen.

Read on AO3.

“I can’t believe we finally got our own home!” Kurt giggles in throwback baby penguin fashion, his inner teenager clawing to the surface to pump a fist in the air in triumph as he climbs underneath the covers beside his husband. With no electricity turn on scheduled till the next afternoon, it’s nearly pitch black in their bedroom and cold as sin, but Kurt doesn’t care. Blaine’s body heat solves the temperature problem, and as for the darkness …

… it could turn out to be convenient.

“I know!” Blaine agrees, wrapping his arms around Kurt as he rests his head against Blaine’s chest. “Three bedrooms, two-and-a-half baths, guest rooms, a kitchen with a breakfast nook, an office, a den, and a cellar! Except for being a little run down, it’s in amazing condition! And it was a steal! I can’t believe there wasn’t a line of people out a mile trying to get their hands on it!”

“Some people are afraid of a little hard work when it comes to houses,” Kurt murmurs contentedly into his husband’s chest. “I can’t blame them. In this market, if you’re going to sink hundreds of thousands of dollars into a property, why buy a fixer-upper? It’s like buying someone else’s problems.”

“Or their mistakes.”

“Mm-hm. But my father always said buy the worst house in the best neighborhood and make it your own. And I trust my dad more than anyone.”

“So do I.” Blaine grins, mentally thanking his father-in-law for his advice … and for so much more, including this angel in his arms. “And there’s so much room! Other houses we saw at this price range were almost a third the size. At this rate, we won’t need to move after we have kids unless we want to.”

“Who would want to? We’re in such a good neighborhood, within walking distance to one of the best schools in the city, parks, museums, culture! Nope. I’m not moving,” Kurt declares, snuggling his husband tighter, burrowing symbolically into everything that represents home to him. “You’re going to be burying me in this house because I’m staying!”

“Then I’m going to be buried right next to you,” Blaine says, leaning down for a kiss.

“Aw, Mr. Ander-Hummel. That’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said. Or the creepiest.”

“Let’s stick with romantic and go from there,” Blaine suggests, slipping cold hands underneath his husband’s long-sleeved flannel shirt. Kurt squirms at the touch, but retaliates with an even more frigid hand down his husband’s pants.

“Ooo!” Blaine yelps, shivers running down his spine. But only one of those is from the invasion on his warm skin. A handful are from something else, something he hears with his whole body – a faint but clear creak coming from downstairs in the general location of the kitchen. Kurt wraps his fingers around him and starts to stroke, but Blaine goes still, ears straining to catch a hint of that noise should it come around again.

“What … what’s wrong?” Kurt asks when Blaine doesn’t start bucking up into his fist.

“D---did … did you hear that?” Blaine stutters. He pictures the kitchen in his head: painted bright yellow with windows all around that let in tons of sunlight during the day, and a white-washed door that leads to their back yard. It’s a decent amount of space for being located right outside a major city. Kurt plans on turning it into a garden. It’s fenced in with a locked gate. Sure someone could climb it, but why go through the trouble when so many other houses don’t have a fence?

As far as Blaine remembers, he locked the back door and the windows, secured the shutters and pulled the drapes. Coming from the city, they even put a brace against the doorknob for extra protection, even though the few neighbors they’ve met claim the neighborhood is so safe, you could forget to lock your doors and you’d be fine.

Could the neighbors be playing up the safety of the place so that he and Kurt wouldn’t have second thoughts?

Is there a chance he forgot a window?

Blaine was in such a hurry to get upstairs and ready for bed, could it have slipped his mind?

Could someone have snuck in? Are they now prowling around the kitchen, on their way into the living room and up the stairs to where Kurt and Blaine lay in bed, completely unaware that a killer is loose in their house!?

“Hmm? No,” Kurt mutters, kissing a path of distraction down Blaine’s neck. “What did it sound like?”

“It sounded like …” Blaine gulps hard, Kurt’s kisses doing their job well except for one icy prickle at the base of his neck that’s telling him they’re not alone “… footsteps … downstairs … i-in the kitchen.”

“It’s probably the house settling.” Kurt starts on the buttons to Blaine’s pajama top, misinterpreting his trembling for excitement. “Old houses do that all the time. When I first moved into the basement of our old house, it was a nightmare. The wood creaking and moaning …”

Blaine’s eyebrows lift. Despite his bone-chilling fear, he grins. “Moaning, huh?”

“Yeah.” Kurt hooks his thumbs in the waistband of Blaine’s pants and gives them a tug down. “Or … our house could be haunted.” Kurt snickers, nibbling Blaine’s earlobe while his hands creep up his shirt. “New England style house in a historic neighborhood? Maybe we’re living with the ghost of Paul Revere, hmm? Preparing for his epic ride? The British are coming …” Those words fall against Blaine’s collarbone, coming dancing across his skin like the fractured edge of burgeoning orgasm. “The British are coming …”

Blaine responds with soft gasps and hums, at a loss for a coherent comeback with the word coming ringing through his ears in Kurt’s silvery tenor.

“Maybe we should start making some noise of our own. Drown him out.”

“Yeah,” Blaine agrees, the potential of a serial killer climbing their stairs to slaughter them in their Laura Ashley sheets replaced by memories of his husband’s sinful noises, his pleading for more, his whimpering when he’s so so close. “Maybe we should.”

Kurt doesn’t need to be told twice. Actually, he didn’t need to be told once. He already has Blaine’s pants pulled down to mid-thigh, grinding his crotch down over him, teasing his cock with the soft flannel of his pajama pants until Blaine starts to moan.

“Ooh, Kurt,” he whines, reaching for Kurt’s kisses with his hungry mouth while Kurt pins him down with his body. “Ooh … ooh … oh, God … ooh …”

“Ooh ooh ooh ooh …”

A haunting voice rises up from the corner of the room, shadowing Blaine’s every time he moans. Kurt doesn’t seem to notice, but Blaine does, since the echo doesn’t sound like him at all.

“Kurt?”

“Yes?”

“Stop for a moment,” Blaine commands. “Just … stay quiet.”

“Oh …” Kurt smirks, misunderstanding. “That’s the way you want to play it. Okay. I can be quiet. I won’t … make … a sound …”

“No,” Blaine says, his brain crying, his erection aching, his entire body begging, ‘Yes!’. “No, that’s not what I mean.”

Kurt frowns at his husband, beyond frustrated. “Then what do you …?”

“Ooh ooh …”

Kurt’s head pops up like a rabbit’s in the snow, sensing the presence of an approaching fox.

“Ooh ooh …”

In the corner of the room, a blue light simmers, cutting through the dark with its stark brightness. Blaine sees it face forward, over Kurt’s back, but Kurt sees it in the reflection of Blaine’s eyes. Both men gulp hard as the light pulses and the moaning continues.

“Ooh ooh ooh …”

…

“Ooh ooh ooh …”

…

Kurt turns slowly, looks over his shoulder. The blue light strobes but only for a second. Then it blinks out of existence.

But the moaning continues.

Only it’s not moaning, Kurt realizes first.

It’s singing.

Ooh ooh ooh take it take it all away

Ooh ooh ooh ooh - ooh take my breath away – ooh

Ooh ooh ooh ooh

Ooh you take my breath away

Kurt sighs, relief seeping into a bubbly laugh. “Blaine! It’s just Alexa! It’s playing music!”

“Okay but no one said Alexa,” Blaine insists. “It woke up on its own!”

“They’ve been known to do that. I read about it on Twitter.”

“Now it’s playing Queen! No one asked for Queen!”

“It’s in your cloud. Alexa chose it at random. It’s got some decent taste.” Kurt chuckles. “And an impeccable sense of romantic timing. It’s either the best wingman ever or the worst …”

A loud thunk stops Kurt’s commentary in its tracks. He rises up again, listening for the origin of the noise, sounding like a baseball cracked by a bat. He can’t determine where the noise came from, but he knows this.

The music has stopped.

“Alexa?” he calls out as if the device were a real live person in the room with them. When it doesn’t respond, he crawls to the end of the bed in search of it. “Alexa? Why did you stop …?”

He doesn’t finish his question.

That’s okay. He doesn’t need Alexa to answer.

He knows what that thunk was.

It was Alexa, no longer sitting on the floor in the corner of the room but now rolling on its side against the far wall … over ten feet away.

“How the hell …?” Kurt looks questioningly at Blaine, sitting up and peeking past Kurt, seeing what Kurt sees. He shakes his head in subconscious response.

“It was on the floor,” Kurt explains needlessly. “How could it …?”

Crash!

Their bedroom window breaking sends Kurt scrambling to the head of the bed. He dives underneath the covers, pulling the comforter over his and Blaine’s head to protect them from flying glass.

“OhmyGod, ohmyGod, ohmyGod, ohmyGod!”

“Shhh!” Blaine holds his husband tight to stop him from shaking to pieces. “Shhh! Try to keep quiet! We don’t want anyone knowing we’re here!”

Kurt nods, fighting anxiety to bite his lips shut and lie still as stone to wait for the aftermath - another crash, crunching glass, cruel laughter, the squeal of tires peeling down the street.

Nothing else comes, not even a breath of wind. It had been howling outside before they’d retired, but there isn’t a whisper of it now. Kurt’s breathing slows and Blaine’s follows. After ten more seconds of silence, they peek out from beneath the covers to inspect the damage.

But there is none.

The windows are intact, locked to their sills, their shutters drawn, just like the ones downstairs.

And with the absence of Alexa’s blinking blue light, the room is pitch black again.

“Oh hell no!” Kurt yells. “Do not tell me we moved into a haunted house!”

“It is Boston,” Blaine says, eyes scanning the room with vigilance. “The odds were pretty high, all things considered.”

Kurt leaps out of bed and heads for the light switch. “I’m not sleeping in the dark with a ghost!”

“Kurt!” Blaine reaches for his husband, grabbing for an arm, a leg, anything before he runs off too far. “We don’t have electricity!”

Kurt stops a foot from the bedroom door, eyes wide as saucers when he sees it’s not closed all the way, the chill breeze running through the house from a leak somewhere causing it to swing forward and back by inches, revealing glimpses of an ink black hallway. “Shit!” he says, bolting back to the safety of the bed. “I forgot!”

“Wh---what should we do?” Blaine asks, eyes shifting side to side, on high alert for whatever else might happen, what furniture may fly … or what phantom might phase through the walls.

“Candles!” Kurt says, opening the drawers to the dresser beside the bed and rummaging through them blindly. “And flashlights! Find every one you can and light it! Tomorrow I’m going to call that realtor and rip her a new one! No wonder she worked so hard to sell us on this place, bend over backward for all our demands, how flippin’ eager the sellers were to drop the price at every turn! Even my dad said we went from tour to escrow quicker than anyone he’s ever known in his life!”

“D-do you think we should get proof? So she’ll believe us? Should we try to take a picture of it?” Blaine picks his cell phone up off the bedside table and switches on the camera app. “If nothing else, that might tell us what we’re dealing with.”

Kurt stares at his husband with the round blue eyes of a frightened foal. “Is that a picture you want to see!?” he squeals.

Blaine looks at his blank phone screen. He imagines taking a picture of the space above their bed and seeing the ghoulish, twisted face of some ungodly creature. It might be there right now; staring at him in amusement; sharp, blood-stained teeth gnashing inches from his head; but at least he doesn’t have to look at it.

“Nope,” Blaine decides, switching to his flashlight app instead. “Not in the slightest.”

[sparklyjojos]

random Maijo meta / wild theory musings for ID:INVADED. it’s very rambly, you have been warned

[spoilers! for Id:Invaded, Disco Wednesdayyy, Tsukumojuku and JDC]

--  the initial title was Alien Thursdayyy, which references Disco Wednesdayyy. In the latter book, the protagonist’s surname is connected to Odin (because Wednesday = Odin’s Day) and to Mercury/Hermes. If so, the protag of Alien Thursdayyy could be connected to Thor, especially since we know there was supposed to be a Jupiter Z involved (Jupiter = Zeus, also a god of thunder). It’s possible that things like Narihisago’s well being a giant thunderstorm or the lightning bolt pattern on Sakaido’s shoes were left over from that old version. [I didn’t figure this one out myself, Maijo twitter did.]

--  the new hot theory seems to be that Fukuda/Anaido came from *Miyavi’s dramatic voice* THE OTHER SIDE, however you interpret this. Which would sorta make him similar to Mercury C, who was also from “the other side”?

--  this one’s more obvious, but an entire sci-fi tech system working on (or at least being jumpstarted by) prolonged suffering of a girl is reminiscent of the Kozue Method. Which I guess gives a bit more relevance to the idea that John Walker, the source of Kiki’s suffering, is something similar to the Nail Peeler and/or the Black Bird Man. We’ll see. (Additional note: The fact that the interaction of a drive for love and a drive for violence, and especially mistaking one for the other, has been already investigated in the anime, makes me lean even more toward this theory--the Black Bird Men were born from hatred and anger as results of love. ...Cue episode 10 with Narihisago murdering not-quite-yet-killers to protect Kiki/his family and then John Walker appearing in his well.)

--   completely incidentally, Kozue’s new surname at the end of Disco was Inoue, literally meaning “over / on top of the well”, and Kikyou’s (the alter’s) name can be read as “Kiki”. (Also completely incidentally, we learn about the new surname right after Disco observes that random frog, so you can imagine my face when I was skimming through and suddenly saw the katakana for kaeru, lol.)

(-- speaking of Disco, it still fucks me up that Mitamura would fit the naming convention, since not only is his last name a sake brand from Fukui, but even his great detective persona can be seen as named after a dish containing alcohol (Runbaba = a rum baba). ...I’ll file this one under “fanfiction ideas for later”.)

-- there’s this one theory that was obviously disproven, but I still love the wordplay so much: “Momoki’s” well has a Kiki well in it. The first kanji of Momoki’s name means ”a hundred” and the “ki” can mean a “tree”. The name Kiki also has a “tree” in it. Cue Wakashika explaining Chesterton’s trick of hiding the tree in a forest. (It was a leaf in the actual quote but shhh)

-- do you know how long it took me to realize that the # in #BRAKE BROKEN is probably supposed to resemble the kanji for “well” (井)? too long. ARGH

-- this one has been talked about ever since the first episodes, but Murakami’s Kafka on the Shore (haven’t read that one) has Johnnie Walker as an antagonist, and knowing Maijo’s love for Murakami, the reference is intentional. People pointed out that episode 9 and 10′s arc of choosing between the real world and the fake one reminded them of Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World (...also haven’t read that one. I need to brush up on my bizarre Japanese novels). While this emotional arc is a call back to Tsukumojuku (it even spans episodes NINE and TEN, come on), Tsukumojuku itself was heavily referencing Hard-Boiled Wonderland and even name-dropped it once or twice. There’s an entire critical piece in Faust vol. 3 that compares the two books extensively.

-- since Tsukumojuku and Disco both had that “24 elders” symbolism, I’m going hmmm over Shirakoma Nishio’s first name being written 二四男, the kanji meaning “two”, ”four” and ”men”. (Doubt it will mean anything, but again, neat fanfic fodder.)

--  Maijo had a short story called 夜中に井戸がやってくる。in Faust vol. 4, and from what I’ve heard it’s about a female ghost emerging from a family’s well at night. I haven’t read it, so it’s possible I’m missing some references?

-- why is that one episode called Fallen. why does it not have -ed at the end like everything else. what is the meaning of this

-- [JDC spoilers, seriously] Narihisago’s ability to talk people into suicide seems to be lifted wholesale from Dokuson’s personal ability, and Anaido reminds me of Pyramid Mizuno, who also pretended to be hilariously inept at detective work while actually being the smartest one around. Hondomachi talking about feeling that intense hatred for serial killers reminded me of Nemu's similar hatred, which the narration brings up so often in the books I feel like it’s foreshadowing for... something very not good. Not sure if any of this is intentional.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Keyholes (spicyhoney)

Summary:  Nothing good ever came from listening through keyholes.

WARNINGS: How to warn for this...Okay, there is some implied non-con here. Not graphic, nothing more than some talking, but I want to warn. Some implications of LV, some dark humor.

There was a thing on Twitter briefly where people were discussing that it’s rather sweet when Red plays the overprotective brother with Underswap Papyrus, especially if he happens to be dating Edge. This is where my 4 am brain demanded I go with it.

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

It was late by the time Red came home and he was pretty damn careful not to let the door slam shut as he crept in. Boss usually got pissy about him staying at Grillby’s till closing time, but since his bro had started dating the honey bun, he’d gone a little lax on a few of the rules. Not too lax, not yet, and was something to keep tabs on; pulling that stick in his brother’s pelvis out a few inches was all right, but there was a huge fucking difference between a little easier and going soft. Swinging too much in the other direction was a good way to end up in a dustpan. Not that Red thought Edge was gonna be ready for a soft-serve cone anytime soon, eh, but it paid to keep an eye out. For now, it seemed to be working out pretty well in everyone’s favor. Nobody’d asked his opinion, but Red actually thought Rus was pretty damn good for his bro. Gave him someone else to bitch at, finally helped clue his brother into the fact that not all afternoon naps were a bad thing and…aw, fuck it. Even Red could admit there was something to the way Edge looked at the honey bun, too. Rus made him happy and there were damn well few enough things in his bro’s life managing that. He could have a pass on this one. Red yawned. Fuck, he was tired. Not drunk, noooo, not on his own, he wasn’t that fucking stupid. Still pleasantly buzzed and he was looking forward to hitting his mattress. He still took the time to line up his shoes at the door, playing the odds that if he didn’t leave anything to piss his bro off in the morning, then he might just get to sleep in a little. Worth a shot. The stairs were daunting, and he was almost tempted to shortcut. Keeping ‘em quiet took effort though and in the end, he decided the stairs were the winner, if only to make sure he didn’t wake Paps. It was when he was creeping past his bro’s door that he discovered his brother wasn’t asleep, and what he heard made the marrow freeze in his bones. “no!” Distinct, even through the door, Rus’s voice and Red stilled, all the easy warmth of the evening draining away as he listened. “let me go.” Raggedly pleading, hoarse, like maybe he’d been crying or screaming, what in the name of fuck— “no more, please, i want to go home!” “You are home, pet, you belong to me.” His brother’s voice and the faint, feeble hope that somehow someone’d gotten past their security, broke in and—no, that was his brother like he’d never heard him, his voice rough, eager, even as he crooned, “Shhh, I’ll take care of you, give you everything you need. Be a good boy now—“

“no! i want to go home to my brother, let me go, please!” “You’re mine!” Snarled out, viciously enough to send a prickle up Red’s spine like a memory of sin. “Say it!”

“no!” Broken little word, said again and again, until it was little more than a sob.

“No? Oh, I think I can make you say it. I think you’ll be begging me soon enough.” Whatever else Rus tried to say was muffled, cut off, and Red forced himself not to think of how. Red stood, didn’t even notice he wasn’t blinking until his aching sockets reminded him. He could taste the sweat beading on his skull, dripping down his face and over his teeth. This wasn’t…this was all kinds of fucked up, this wasn’t possible. Edge was a hardass, yeah, he ran Snowdin like a fucking general, not just captain of the guard…and he made sure all the kids here had enough to eat, made sure all the supplies were divvied up equally, fuck it, he even checked up on that old Bun granny to make sure her walkway was cleared after a storm. He wasn’t like those LV-crazed loonies out in Snowdin woods, the souleaters who didn’t care who they killed or fucked, he wasn’t… Another cry came from the room, Rus’s voice, wild and pained and fuck. Okay. Okay, something had happened, something had obviously fucking broke, but he couldn’t let his bro do this. Maybe Rus would never forgive him, but if he stopped it, Edge might eventually be able to forgive himself. Yeah, and Asgore might declare Fridays as Spank My Fuzzy Ass day, but he had to try. Red stood at the door, not listening to the muffled whimpers as he summoned up his magic, breathing deeply and mentally clawing together his control before he kicked it in. The room was dark, but he could see enough; a pair of skeletal hands chained to the headboard, rucked up blankets, his brother on top, jerking towards the busted door too late as Red reached, turning his soul blue and yanking him away. He was moving before his brother even bounced off the wall, dodging the attack he already knew would be coming. Had to give the boss credit, he was quick, and the bones came close enough that Red could feel the virulence of his intent. He tightened his grip on Edge’s soul, dragging him down, up, dodging another attack and— “woah, fuck, stop! edge, it’s your brother, it’s red, stop it!!” Red felt as much as saw his bro go limp in his hold, dangling against the wall and didn’t let up, could be a trick, trying to get him to let down his guard and…wait. Red blinked owlishly as his focus eased enough to let him see more than the threat he had pinned down. Rus was…standing, and yeah, that was more bone than he’d ever wanted to see from the honey bun, but the cuffs were dangling from the headboard, empty. “red, let him down, yeah?” Rus didn’t get closer to him, only held out his empty hands, palms up as he said, soothingly, “c’mon, it’s okay. it’s all good here, it was only a game. you know, the big bad kidnaps the sweet little innocent, takes him captive, all that shit?” “a game?” Red echoed blankly, and then, “you, innocent?” Rus shrugged. “i work with what i’ve got.” He reached out, pressing very gently on Red’s extended hand, didn’t even flinch as Red’s magic arced, dancing across his pale bones like lightning. “but he wasn’t hurting me, we were only playing. let him down, okay?” Oh. Hastily, Red withdrew his magic, dragging it back in hard enough that he almost gagged. Edge slid down the wall, landing lightly on his feet, but Red didn’t stay to see if his bro had anything he wanted to add to the group chat. He just turned on heel and out, yanking the busted door mostly shut behind him. Probably should’ve gone to his room, but his feet were on autopilot and took him downstairs. Red plopped down on the sofa and hey, maybe it was time for a game of his own. See how long he could keep his mind totally blank before he either fell asleep or maybe the world could reset for him. Worth a try. He couldn’t say how long he got to play, but it wasn’t fucking long enough. He heard the rattle of the broken door opening above him and footsteps on the stairs. Untied sneakers came into view, shuffling along, before the sofa next to him sagged. “here.” A pack of cigarettes dropped into Red’s lap and he heard the rasp of a lighter, the first whiff of burning tobacco. “he’s gonna kill you.” Rus shrugged. “he already let me smoke one upstairs. might as well take advantage of it while i can, since i’m not getting off tonight. i’ve seen some wrecked moods, but that one was like tokyo after godzilla gave it an afternoon stroll.” “sorry.” He wasn’t, really, probably wasn’t a word outside of that jabberwocky poem to quantify how he felt right now, but it seemed like the thing to say. Red held out a hand and Rus dropped his lighter into it. “nah,” Rus blew out a cloud of smoke, “it was kinda sweet. thanks, cowboy. sorry my damsel in distress was less hollywood and more porn star.” “keep your thanks, it ain’t helping,” Red groaned. Rus ignored him and went on contemplatively, “just a heads up, edge might never be the same. think he’s testing if it’s actually possible to die of embarrassment, but i managed to talk him out of jumping into any of the lava pits in hotland.” Hastily, Red lit his own cigarette and took a hard drag. Nicotine wasn’t much, but when you were drowning, any straw you could grab looked like a cruise ship. A sharp elbow nudged Red in the ribs, making him cough, “know what i think? you two should start practicing the fine art of repression and bury this night under a rockslide. lemme know if you need help, i’m an expert.” Yeah, that was the best idea Red had heard in fucking years.

Rus stood up, clenched his half-burned butt in his teeth as he stretched with bone-popping force, groaning out, “welp, i’m gonna head home. that’ll learn us to keep it down. honestly, i’m looking at it as a positive.”

“a positive,” Red said flatly.

“yep. if it’d been my bro who heard us in there, edge might still be trying to wedge a boot out of his ass.”

Huh, that was probably true. Guess there were a few small favors left in the worlds.

Rus was gone with a wave and a shortcut, and Red finished his smoke, leaving the ash in a little pile on the coffee table because hell, at least he could stand to hear the boss bitch about that. He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but he woke up to the feel of something soft being draped over him. Pretty damn tempting not to look; he’d probably be allowed to wallow in the blissful land of ain’t fucking thinking about it for a while yet. But eh, sometimes you just had to rip off that bandaid. Red opened his sockets, blinking up at his brother, who only finished tucking the blanket around him before moving to sit by his feet.

Welp, here was a tension you could cut with a knife and serve up with nice, cold glass of humiliation.

“boss,” Red started, then stopped, letting the word dangle between them.

“Shut up,” Edge said brusquely. His arms were crossed over his chest, his cheekbones stained garishly red, and he was grinding his teeth so hard Red expected him to spit out a mouthful of dust. But all he did was sit, looking anywhere but in Red’s direction as he muttered, “Thank you.” There were novels to be read between those lines, but Red could make do with the cliffnotes. Edge wasn’t stupid; he had LV, he knew what that could mean, the could happens and what ifs.

So Red only strangled out a gruff, “yeah, sure.” Then, louder, “all in favor of never speaking a fucking word about this again?”

“Aye,” Edge said dryly. “Would you like breakfast before we head for the dump to look for a new door?”

“breakfast would be great, boss,” Red said fervently. That was it. His bro didn’t say another word, only stood up and headed for the kitchen. Red glanced at the coffee table, the cigarette ash, and almost swept it away.

Nah, might do his brother good to have something he could actually bitch about and Red could stand a lecture today about keeping the house in order, please and thank you, if only to help scrub the inside of his skull clean of any lingering memories.

Repression: Start.

-finis-

[trisshawkeye]

Rules - Fill out the thing; tag some people you’d like to know better. Thanks for the tag @apaladinagain!

Four Ships

Ships tend to come and go with whatever I’m fixating on at the time so it’s kinda hard to pin this sort of thing down but I like how this just says ‘Four Ships’ and not ‘Four Top Ships’ or whatever - so!

Roy Mustang/Riza Hawkeye (Fullmetal Alchemist) - baby’s first otp, and a sign of things to come, as I adore the love and devotion and trust and the knowledge that it can never happen in the way that you want it to oh no

James Flint/Thomas Hamilton/Miranda Barlow (Black Sails) - look, trying to pick a single Black Sails ship is an impossible task anyway but I’ve got to at least pick one of them because this show meant so much to me and this ship was happy when it got the chance to be 

Hamid/Azu (Rusty Quill Gaming) - the current ship I’m sailing which looks like a bit of a rarepair romantically? Don’t get me wrong, I love the platonic intimacy thing they have going on at the moment which is usually my entire jam anyway but... I also just really want them to kiss *shrug emoji*

Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) - I obsessed hard over Good Omens to the point where I think I oversaturated on it and am still rebounding back off it. But these two set off all my queer Christian experience vibes and meant a lot to me to see

There, that is four that came to mind out of.... a lot.....

Last Song

That ‘Dinosaurs In Love’ song that’s been making the rounds on Twitter (current emotion: WELL THEN). Before that, one of the tracks on the OCRemix album Final Fantasy VI: Balance and Ruin - possibly Omen II: Terror March. I listen to a lot of OCRemix stuff while I’m working.

Last Movie

The last thing I saw at the cinema was The Turning which... made me uncomfortable in ways that I really didn’t want to be, couldn’t really decide what story it was telling, and didn’t really seem to commit to its ending. Meh. I did watch Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle on the plane a few days ago as well, and I enjoyed that much more. Extremely silly good fun. 

Reading

I'm halfway through Raven Stratagem, book two of the Machineries of Empire series by Yoon Ha Lee. I love the world-building of these books like crazy and I’m really enjoying reading it, but I’m really struggling to just sit down and read a book these days so it’s taking me a while.

What food are you craving right now?

You know, for some reason I could really go in for a good quiche right now. Keeeeeesh.

Tagging (only if you wanna do the thing, and like pretend I tagged you if you wanna do it and I didn’t)

@thunderfcknroad @cubistemoji @patricianandclerk @messier51 @liobi (I know you well already but shhh)