#im gonna post the three I did to ao3 tomorrow

[youngpettyqueen]

would you consider doing hawkeye and trapper with "Let me take care of you this time" ?

THANK YOU FOR WAITING SO PATIENTLY ANON listen ive been trying to nail down a scenario to put this Piercentyre idea into for AGES and this prompt gave me everything I wanted and then I procrastinated on it anyways BUT its here at last! and I sincerely hope you enjoy it after waiting so patiently!

Hawkeye pushes himself up from his knees as Ginger and Klinger move off with the wounded soldier he’d been tending to. He watches them head straight for the hospital, both of them quickly vanishing from sight in the silver of the storm, before he turns back and heads back into the fray. One down, countless others to go.

Triage is in complete chaos, everyone sprinting around like chickens without heads as they try to scramble all of the wounded into the hospital as fast as possible. They had no warning for these wounded- not a call, not an announcement, not even Radar’s borderline-supernatural hearing. One minute they were all inside sheltering from this downpour, the next Jeeps were rolling in, the roar of their engines drowned out by the constant roaring thunder overhead.

The sky opened up early this morning and so far it’s showing no signs of closing back up. Hawkeye’s never seen a storm this bad. He’s been here a couple months now, he’s dealt with the worst heat the Korean summer has to offer, but this is the first thunderstorm he’s had to grapple with. The rain is coming down in violent sheets, turning everything pale and silver and spraying up mist where it strikes the ground. The lightning is bright enough to light everything up white, and the accompanying thunder is loud enough to rattle his bones. 

He moves through triage at a jog, dodging around other moving bodies and keeping an eye out for a free patient. He throws a hand up to try and shield his eyes, but it doesn’t help much. He can barely see a thing in this downpour. 

Someone rushes by, clipping his shoulder hard. Hawkeye stumbles, tries to right himself, but his foot sinks deep into a mud puddle and momentum pitches him sideways. He feels his ankle wrench in way it’s definitely not supposed to, pain bolting up his leg, then he hits the ground hard on his side, splattering mud all over what little of him wasn’t already covered in the stuff. 

He bites out a few curses as he pushes himself up to sit. “For fuck’s sake-” He hisses. He tries to push himself to his feet, but his ankle immediately buckles under his weight, dropping him back into the mud with a grunt, “Come on, damnit, come on-“ He tries again, but this attempt proves just as futile. He curses again, looking around if there’s anything within reach he can use as leverage to pull himself up. He doesn’t have time for this-

“Hawkeye!” Someone shouts over the roar of the storm. He looks up to see Trapper jogging over, his arm up to shield his eyes. He comes to a stop in front of him, concerned frown fixed on his face, “You alright? That looked like a nasty fall.” 

Hawkeye is suddenly grateful for the intensity of the storm- it means Trapper won’t be able to see the frustrated, embarrassed blush creeping up his neck. “I’m fine,” He grumbles, “I just need to-” He tries one more time to push himself up, but it’s no use. His injured ankle trembles violently underneath him, throbbing fiercely in protest, and he quickly sinks back down before it can give out again, “Damnit-!” He hisses.

Trapper quickly drops down to kneel with him, placing a steadying hand on his arm, “Yeah, you look just fine to me,” He says, sarcasm dripping off his voice like the rain dripping off his coat. His eyes flick down to where Hawkeye clutches at his ankle, and his expression softens, “What’s goin’ on with your ankle? You twist it?” He asks, his tone growing gentle. 

Hawkeye hesitates for a beat. Just a beat, because then Trapper’s eyes are back on his face, and he looks so damn worried that he immediately caves with an irritated sigh. “Into a damn pretzel,” He gruffs. He rubs at it through his boot, trying to ease the throbbing pain, “It hurts like hell, Trap- think I sprained it pretty bad.” He admits. That blushing, burning feeling is spreading across his face and lighting up the tips of his ears.

Trapper’s frown deepens as he considers him for a moment, looking like he’s assessing the situation. “Alright, I got an idea,” He ducks in closer, “Here, put your arm around my shoulders.” He instructs.

Hawkeye complies, even as his brow furrows in confusion. “Wha-“ He doesn’t get a chance to even get a word out- Trapper wraps an arm around his back and slips the other under his knees, and in one ridiculously easy motion he scoops him up into his arms, “Trapper!” He yelps, throwing his other arm around Trapper’s neck as he climbs to his feet, “What the hell are you doing?” He demands.

Trapper turns and starts heading for the hospital. “Carrying you,” He replies, nonchalant, like this is a regular occurrence, “I thought that was obvious.” 

“I don’t need to be carried!” Hawkeye protests, indignantly trying to wiggle his way free, “C’mon, put me down, I can hobble just fine!” He exclaims. Being carried inside like a swooning bride is the absolute last thing he needs right now. He's never going to live it down. Ever.

Trapper just tightens his hold on him, effectively and offensively easily preventing his escape. “Sure you can, but you don’t have to,” He replies, undeterred in his stride, “Now quit bein’ stubborn and enjoy the ride before you make me fall and snap an ankle.” He advises.

Hawkeye does quit squirming at that, grumbling irritably as he settles in Trapper’s arms. It’s ridiculous, frankly, how easily Trapper holds him still. How easily he lifted him. He knew Trapper was strong, of course he did- he’s been living with the guy and seeing him every single day for the last two months- but still. It’s one thing to see him scoop a nurse up into his arms and carry her off to a secluded tent. It’s a very different thing to be the one in his arms. 

He gets the appeal, now. He can feel the strength in Trapper’s arms where they- 

He clears his throat. “You know, Trap, when I imagined being swept off my feet, I never imagined it was you doing the sweeping.” He huffs. He notices Radar spot them heading by, stop short, and almost trip over his own two feet as he does a double take. He gives him a wave.

“You never pictured me as your knight in shinin’ armour?” Trapper asks, drawing his attention back to him, “You wound me. And here I was thinkin’ what a great damsel in distress you make.” He teases, giving Hawkeye a smug grin. 

“Damsel in distress?” Hawkeye echoes, with as much mock offence as he can inject into his voice, “I’m not a damsel in distress, I’m a princess. And I demand to be addressed as such.” He turns his nose up in the air, fixing Trapper with a haughty look.

“I think I liked you better grumpy,” Trapper mutters, his eyes gleaming good-naturedly, “But sure, alright, your Highness. I’ll even get you one of Klinger’s tiaras,” He offers, “Make it official.” 

Hawkeye leans his head on Trapper’s shoulder, just to be especially obnoxious. “Something with sapphires,” He requests, “They bring out my eyes.” He bats his lashes for emphasis.

Trapper rolls his eyes. “As you wish, Princess.” He ducks through the hospital doors, helpfully being propped open by Nurse Baker, who fixes them with an odd look as they whisk past. Inside, the hospital is just as chaotic as triage outside. People run around carrying bags of whole blood, plasma, handfuls of gauze, armfuls of bottles. Trapper dodges around Ginger and Klinger as they rush past with a now empty stretcher, heading right back out into the storm.

“Alright, hang tight,” Trapper says as he looks around for somewhere unoccupied, “Just gonna get us a parking spot…” He maneuvers his way through the hustle and bustle, getting off to the side where he can duck through a door into Radar’s office, which is significantly quieter. 

“Did you just want to get me alone?” Hawkeye asks as Trapper continues through the office and right through Henry’s doors, “Trapper, you devil. You could’ve just asked.” He teases.

“Yeah, yeah,” Trapper chuckles as he sets Hawkeye down to sit on Henry’s desk, “There ya go, Princess. Safe and sound,” He pulls up one of the chairs as he speaks, takes a seat in front of him, “Now, let’s have a look at that ankle.” He takes Hawkeye’s leg in gentle hands, wrapping one hand around his calf while he sets about carefully working his laces loose.

Hawkeye winces at the movement, his ankle twinging. “You don’t have to do that, you know,” He says. He appreciates the sentiment here, he really does, but he’d much rather deal with this himself, “I can take it from here. There are actual wounded who need your help, so just leave some crutches within reach and I’ll meet you at our usual tables.” He goes for humour, trying to mask his discomfort.

Trapper stops what he’s doing, gives him an incredulous look. “Hawk, you can’t walk,” He points out, like Hawkeye needs the reminder, “I think that qualifies you as actually wounded.” 

Hawkeye looks away. “C’mon, Trap, I tripped in the mud.” He mutters, crossing his arms over his chest. His face is going red all over again, he can feel the heat itching uncomfortably under his skin.

“And? You’re still hurt,” Trapper counters, “Hurt’s hurt. Doesn’t matter how it happened. Besides,” He leans over to the side, forcing the eye contact again, “If the roles here were reversed, would you let me treat myself?” He challenges.

Hawkeye stubbornly tries to look away again, but finds he can’t help but look back because Trapper’s stare doesn’t relent. Trapper’s got him, and he knows it. He sighs quietly, crossing his arms over his chest and conceding, “…I guess not.”

“Didn’t think so,” Trapper replies, a bit smug. When Hawkeye doesn’t look any less displeased, however, his expression softens, “Look,” He sighs, “You’ve been runnin’ yourself ragged ever since you got here. You’re always takin’ care of everyone, even if they aren’t your patient to take care of. And it works out great, cause you’re such a damn good doctor, but… you’re not Superman,” He reminds him, “You gotta let someone take care of you every once in a while. So let me take care of you this time, ok?” 

Hawkeye wants to argue. He wants to argue and put up a fight and be stubborn as all hell, he wants to annoy Trapper into leaving him to deal with this mess he got himself into, but… he can’t. He can’t deny that he wants the help, the care. And that must show on his face, because a grin is slowly spreading across Trapper’s face. The sort of grin that he gets when he knows he’s won.

He heaves a dramatic sigh, uncrossing his arms and letting his defensive posture slack. “…Ok,” He agrees, relenting at last, “Ok, alright. Guess I’d be stupid to say no after that little speech.” He can’t help but smile a bit as Tripper’s crooked grin only broadens, showing off teeth. That damn smile of his is contagious.

“Very stupid,” Trapper agrees, “Now, let’s see what we’re working with…”

He returns to his task of loosening the laces of Hawkeye’s boot. Hawkeye sits back, leaning on his hands and watching Trapper work. It’s funny; just a couple minutes ago he was easily carrying him through camp, his arms strong and secure. Now his hands are impossibly gentle, careful where they touch. 

It’s nice, being cared for like this. It’s also nice to be told to accept the care for his own sake, though he’ll never admit to that. Anyone else would’ve appealed to his doctor’s way of thinking, told him he’d be of no use to patients if he didn’t rest and take care of himself. They’d be right to take that angle, it would work, but it’s nice to hear Trapper say  he should accept the care just because he deserves it. 

Trapper’s a nice guy. After two months of forced cohabitation, Hawkeye feels like they’ve gotten to know things about each other that most people wouldn’t know until a couple more years into the friendship. He’s seen a few different sides of Trapper; the joker, the womanizer, the surgeon, maybe even a bit of the soldier. And he can conclude that Trapper is, beyond a shadow of a doubt, a good person. A good person with a big grin and an even bigger heart. 

The arms are pretty big, too. Hawkeye can see why the nurses are so-

His thoughts screech to a halt and tumble apart like a poorly constructed house of cards. Again. Again, about Trapper and strong arms. Again, about understanding the allure. He doesn't get a chance to collect those thoughts before Trapper slips his boot off, however, the action so gentle his wince is more out of surprise than anything.

“Sorry.” Trapper says anyways, and he looks like he means it. 

Hawkeye has a funny feeling in his stomach as he meets his eyes. “Don’t worry about it.” He replies quietly.

If Trapper notices what’s going on, he doesn’t comment. Just gets back to work examining Hawkeye’s ankle. Hawkeye, meanwhile, can only hope that it’s dark enough in this office that the broad strokes of pink painting his cheeks aren’t visible. 

Oh. He thinks. Concludes. Realizes.

Oh, boy. 

[lawtistic]

pinned

remaking my pinned post because SOMEONE decided to start a massive argument on it thank you jesse

hi, i’m liam or L, you can use these interchangeably or use one i don’t mind

i’m an aroace gay transmasc who’s brain farms mental illness like it’s playing minecraft

with that being said, please use tone indicators around me, thank you !! (i have autism pls)

i was hyperfixated on death note and thats still mainly what my blog is about and i will post about it

im slightly more inactive now but im trying, im just mentally ill and forget tumblr exists :,)

im CURRENTLY hyperfixated on warrior cats and resident evil and im open to talking about those as well

my favorite characters are mello, bb, L, and light because theyre either hot or i like bullying them (death note wise)

my favorite characters from my current hyperfixation are whitestorm and claire redfield (but leon is the subject of my conversations WAY more often and what can i say, hes hot and he gives me gender envy lmao)

yes, im the one person who drew light in a bikini (and a wedding dress. and a crop top)

i have a shitton of tier lists i did that i will link here the minute i feel like doing that, that minute is not right now

i do art (that i never post), i write fanfiction (that i never post) i write video scripts (that i never post), i cant do math (i do post about that)

youre mostly gonna see me reblogging stuff or spouting shit at a noise decibel loud enough to rupture an eardrum

im in a number of fandoms including genshin impact (distancing myself, i havent played in like 3 weeks and have been avoiding media like crazy), animal crossing, obey me, tears of themis, and some more stuff i dont have the mental capability to paperclip right now

im wiccan !! as of me writing this imbolc is coming up like... tomorrow so i may or may not post about that but i try not to because i know not everyone likes it

here’s my links !!

https://archiveofourown.org/users/pngfanfic ao3 (that i dont have anything posted on)

https://liamthepng.carrd.co/ my carrd, it looks bad on mobile so i recommend looking at it on desktop

https://en.pronouns.page/@lace_png my pronouns page, so you know how to refer to me

i dont feel like linking my socials right this second but my insta is verylawtistic and my discord is lawtistic#7355

i dont recommend looking at my tiktok i post cringe on there and i dont post very often but it is... something ill reveal after i clean it up it’s a vile place honestly

very specific rule for anons is that you can say literally anything as long as it doesnt align with my triggers or dni list (found on my carrd). there’s three chances and if theyre all fucked up i’m turning anons off

id be a GIANT hypocrite if i said you cant send me dumb shit and you can absolutely do that i have the humor of a 3 year old just dont piss me off on purpose

i do post and tag appropriately so if you have a certain tag blocked they shouldn’t show up for you :]

[dork-empress]

Singing In The Dead Of Night Ch 2

Harley and Barman set up a playdate for their wards.

forgive the long post, i'll edit and clean it up when im home. chapter can also be found on my ao3, url in the description.

Harley made it back home, which was actually the manor of some billionaire who only really used the house for tax purposes. Harley had taken it over when Lucy came to live with her, deciding she needed more room, and they quickly changed it to suit their needs.

“Luuuucyyyy, I’m hooooome,” Harley called out to the manor, heading through the living room/gymnasium.

Lucy was balancing on the beam by her hands. “Never heard that one before.” She went into the splits and stayed on one hand.

Harley looked over her form. “Point your toes more...there ya go.” Lucy did as recommended. “I got candy for dinner!” She dumped her stolen lollipops on the table.

“I already ate, Aunt Harley,” she said, “I made extra pasta if you want.” She pointed over to the kitchen, before switching hands and flipping herself over.

“Oh,” Harley said, going over to make a plate, but feeling like ants were crawling in her skin. “You know, you don’t have to call me your aunt when it’s just the two of us,” She said, swirling her fork through the noodles.

Lucy shrugged, “Force of habit. Plus it’s a good idea in general, ya know, in case someone’s secretly listening in or we mess up some other time.”

Harley shrugged her shoulders. “Makes sense,” and it did, but it still kind of hurt. “You can have the lollipops for dessert though. You like cherry?” She tossed her the red candy.

Lucy looked down at the wrapper a second. “Can’t, I’m allergic to the red dye.”

“Oh,” Harley said, silently cursing herself. That was something that mothers should know about their kids, allergies and crap. “Well. Lemon then?”

“Sure!” They traded the lollipops, and Harley sucked on hers between bites of the pasta. Sweet and savory combined, delicious.

Lucy swung her legs as she sat on the beam. “Does...my father have any allergies?”

Harley blinked at her. Did Joker have any allergies? It was hard to say. Even now, Harley didn’t know a lot about the Joker. That’s how he liked it. “Best not to talk about it,” she said instead, “In case of those listening things or whatever.”

Lucy hummed, but didn’t seem satisfied. “Hey,” Harley said, trying to distract her from the ‘dad’ talk, “You wanna go out with me tomorrow?”

Lucy brightened, jumping a bit, “Where are you gonna go?”

“I dunno,” she said, “Go lookin’ for trouble. Let the trouble find me. Punch out a couple people but only if they REALLY deserve it!” And maybe if they only kinda deserved it, Harley thought.

Lucy hummed again, thinking. “I dunno. I think violence often begets further violence, and while it is occasionally necessary, efforts should focus more on the community building and personal improvement area.”

Harley blinked at her. Right, she was a reader, Delia had mentioned that. Not unlike Harley at her age, really, although Harley had focused on psychoanalysis instead of philosophy. “Ah, of course,” she said, “Well, what do you wanna do?”

Lucy thought for a second. “Well, there was this girl I wanted to go inspire to fight her eating disorder.”

“Oh,” Harley said nodding. It was a noble cause, really, but...also seemed really, really boring. “I...sure!” she smiled.

The truth was, when Lucy came out to live with Harley full time, she had really thought they would be a lady dynamic duo, a proper partnership mother/daughter team. But Lucy wasn’t much like Harley. Or, she was but, she was different, a goody two-shoes. Or, a goody tutu. Ha.

More than that, she followed a strange sense of logic that was oddly reminiscent of...Harley didn’t even finish the thought.

“You don’t want to go, do you?” Lucy asked.

“Hmm? Of course I do!” Harley said, “I’d do anything with you sweetheart,” she gave Lucy a wink, then went to the kitchen to hide her facial expression.

She didn’t see that Lucy had followed her until she was directly behind her. “Oh, Jesus!” She said, clutching her heart, “Gotta look out there, sweetie. Almost brained ya!”

“Is Dad like me at all?” she asked, head tilted to the side.

Harley blinked at her. She felt like her bones were shaking inside her skin. “Why would you ask a thing like that?”

Lucy spun a little in place making her tutu swish. “I’ve been reading about him. People think he’s crazy. I mean, he says it. But that’s not what your records say.”

Harley frowned, backing away as though physical distance would get her out of the conversation. “What’re you goin through my records for? What, are you a snoop?”

“They got published after one of your arrests,” Lucy said, “Other people were more interested in the little notes you left in the margins, but--”

“Alright, stop.” Harley said, hand clutching her lollipop stick so tight it might break. “Look, Mr...your father is mean and cruel and manipulative, and nothing like you! He wants to drive other people crazy, and for some people, self included, he succeded. But I grew out of it as best I could and now...you don’t need to worry about him, ok? He ain’t ever gonna know about ya, and he ain’t ever gonna find ya. Got it?”

Lucy hesitated a second and there was something strange in her eyes. Something familiar. “Got it,” she finally said.

Harley lightened, smiling at her. “Why don’t we play a game or somethin? You like Monopoly? I make up my own rules!”

Lucy smiled, “That sounds nice,” she said, all bright again. As they set up the game, Lucy said, “You don’t have to come with me tomorrow, by the way. I can take care of myself.”

“You sure?” Harley asked. Lucy nodded. For the rest of the evening, Harley felt like something was…off.

She slipped the burner phone out of her pocket. She typed, ‘Wanna set up a playdate?’

“She called it a WHAT?!” Damian said, nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Aww,” Tim said, over by the batcave computer, “Little Damian’s got a plaaayydaaate.”

“I will end you, Drake.” Damian snarled, fingers twitching for his sword.

“Enough,” Bruce interrupted the both of them. “Damian, if it helps you can think of it as a mission.”

“I thought I was forbidden from Robin duties for the next two months.” Damian said, arms crossed.

Bruce groaned. “Harley has taken in a ward, her niece Lucy. She has some petty crime charges, but from my recon, she’s not a villain. Harley wants her to spend time with someone her age, and I need someone who will watch over her.”

“Watch out for her, or watch out because of her?” Damian asked, scowling.

“Oooh, good question,” Tim said, still at the computer. “Hey, how come you didn’t set me up with vigilante kids?”

“Because you found them on your own,” Bruce shot back, “Look. Damian, you just have to spend the day with her. Follow her around, help her out as long as it’s not hurting anyone. Don’t let her get killed. Invite Jon if you want.”

“Uggh, Jon’s off world with his Dad,” Damian said.

“Oh right,” Bruce said, massaging his temple. “Why do interdimensional crises have to happen at the worst times?”

“Why is it we need a plural for interdimensional crisis?” Tim asked.

Bruce gave him a side glance to let him know he was coming up on the line that breached from ‘annoying’ to ‘problem Bruce will deal with.’ “Damian…”

“Fine, I’ll do it,” he said, “But I won’t be her friend by you forcing us.”

“Fine.”

They met up with Harley at a neutral location downtown on top of a party goods store. “Hiya Batsy, Hey Bird Boy!”

Despite himself, Damian liked Harley. She was usually of a like mind about which villains did or didn’t deserve to live, but he didn’t tell Batman that. “Harley,” Batman said, “Where’s your niece?”

“Just doin some high-wire practice.” Harley said, “Lucy-goosey!”

From the side of the building, a girl faulted up from where she was hanging on the flagpole. A girl wearing a tutu and white paint. “Nice to meet you, Batman,” Lucy said, “Aunt Harley’s told me….a lot of mixed things.”

“YOU!” Damian said, before he could stop himself, and all three of the others turned to him.

Lucy trotted forward on her tiptoes. “Have we met?” She asked, tilting her head, and looking him up and down.

Damian swallowed. “Uhh….”

“Blackbird!” Lucy said, and swooped him up into a hug, “Oh, I knew you were a Robin, why’d you lie to me?”

“Blackbird, huh?” Batman said, and he couldn’t see, but he knew there was a very pointed eyebrow being raised at him.

Damian, still being swung like a ragdoll by Lucy, tried to gain his balance. “I didn’t...I mean I wasn’t…”

“We’ll talk about this later,” Batman said, “You kids go on, I have something to talk about with Harley.”

“Kids?!” Damian said, offended, especially that he was going to be left out of whatever this conversation was. But in doing so, he left himself vulnerable as Lucy pulled on his cowl to the edge of the building.

“Come on, birdy, whatever color you are. The city awaits!” And she jumped from the roof, grappling on outcroppings to reach the street safely. Damian grumbled, but eventually followed.

Harley looked to Batman, and her face fell. “He’s out there, isn’t he?”

Batman gave one slow nod.

Lucy skipped everywhere. It was very irritating, because it was faster than walking, but slower than running, so hard to keep pace. Also,it was just very perky, which made it hard to sulk.

Lucy claimed she had deliveries to make around town. Something about girls who were bullies in high school and were treating others poorly, but it was only because of the societal pressures that were put on young girls of America and...and thats about where Damian lost interest.

She carried a cartfull of boxes like a damn girlscout, and left them on the girls doors. Damian could have followed in his sleep...except there was something about one of the boxes….

“What’s in that one?” Damian asked as she brought it to the next home.

“Huh?” Lucy said, “Same thing as in all of them, some cookies, a letter, balloons of course and--”

“It’s beeping,” Damian said.

“What?”

Damian didn’t wait any longer, he grabbed the box out of her arms and tossed it as high into the sky as he could, tackling her to the ground. The box then exploded.

Lucy gasped in excitement, clapping her hands together. “Birdy, look at it! It’s fireworks!”

Damian growled, jumping off of her and taking out his sword. “I knew it, I knew you were up to no good.”

Lucy tilted her head. “Whatcha talkin about, Birdy?”

“You--” He pointed to where the box was still smoldering. “You were going to put a BOMB on that girl’s doorstep!”

“I didn’t put that there,” Lucy said, getting up with no care of the sword pointed at her.

“You-” Damian stammered. “What?”

Lucy bent down and picked up a scrap of paper from the ruins. “Change of plans for the evening, Birdy!” Lucy said, “We’re going puzzling!”

She tossed the paper at him and he grabbed it quickly. It read ‘I’ve the tallest of trunks and thickest of stumps, a switch in the breeze, but I’m no tree. What am I?’”

They came quickly to the elephant pasture at the zoo. Damian couldn’t help it, he held out his hand for the elephant. She reached out her trunk and wrapped it around him. He couldn’t help but laugh.

Her baby came forward this time, trotting on new steps. He was already the size of a small horse, but he stole Damian’s heart all the same. He tried to bowl Damian over like a large puppy, and Damian couldn’t help but laugh. “Didn’t know you could laugh, Birdy,” Lucy said, kneeling over a shady patch in the enclosure.

Damian’s scowl returned. “Stop calling me ‘Birdy,’” he said, “You can just say ‘Robin,’ if you want.”

“But aren’t there other Robins?” Lucy said, fiddling with something, “I’d love to call you something unique to you.”

“There’s already a Blackbird, you know.” Damian said, continuing to pet the baby elephant.

“There is?” Lucy asked, “Picking a superhero name is HARD. I’m still trying to get Commedia to stick. You know, like, Commedia del arte? But I’ll end up getting called ‘Tutu girl’ or something if I don’t watch out.”

Damian gently pushed the elephant away, seeing what she was doing. She was hands deep in another box like the one they’d found in her cart. “Careful, it could be another bomb.”

“Fireworks,” Lucy corrected, “and I already diffused it.”

Damian leaned down, looking. She had indeed done so, quite efficiently. “How did you know to do that?”

Lucy smiled, “An uncle of mine taught me. You’ll meet him.” She dug further into the box. “I wouldn’t mind some more fireworks, but I don’t want to scare the elephants.” She pulled out another slip of paper.

“This has all the hallmarks of The Riddler,” Damian said, “We have to be careful. He might have bombs all over the city.”

“Fireworks!” Lucy corrected again, “And, probably. See, we already have the next clue!” She waved the paper and read out “Can you hear me make a sound, only when you are around.”

“Of course you can only hear things when you’re around.” Damian said, frowning.

“But only when someone’s around does it make a...Oh!” Lucy said, jumping to her feet, “An echo! We have to go somewhere there’s an echo!”

Damian sighed, “I have an idea.”

Technically they weren’t IN the Bat cave. They were at a far entrance to it, another end of the cave system. So he wasn’t breaking any rules. “Hey, is that Wayne Manor?” Lucy asked. “I tried to break in there once, but they have some crazy rich person security system.”

“Funny that.” Damian said, trying to seem completely ordinary.

Lucy stood at the edge of the cave and yelled into it. “ECHO!” listening for the echo in return. She skipped into the cave, humming all the way, the sound bouncing off as she went.

“Lucy?” Damian said, following her, “Don’t go too far, there’s all sorts of--” He heard a squeal and rushed forward.

He stopped short, his flashlight falling on Lucy. She waved at him to put it down, squinting. “Look here!” She brushed aside some dirt to find some rusted over metal. “Isn’t it fascinating! This cave system must go on for miles! Maybe people hid treasure there!”

“It’s just the old mining system,” Damian said, truthfully. “It’s all blocked off.”

“That can’t be hard to undo,” Lucy said, intrigued by whatever lay beyond.

Damian grabbed her hand before she could continue. “We have to catch the Riddler. There has to be another package here.”

Lucy sighed, but nodded. She took his arm with the flashlight and swung him around the cave. “Ah! There.”

She took the package and skipped out of the cave. “Careful!” Damian urged. “Come on, just diffuse it.”

“Nope, not these ones.” She tossed the package high in the sky, and Damian saw the fireworks light up.

He felt his phone buzzing, no doubt Tim could hear an explosion out here, not to mention Alfred. They’d come investigating fast enough. He leaped up, grabbing the fallen slip of paper, and grabbed Lucy again to pull her along. He read it quickly and passed it to her as he made his way away. “Even in the city scape, nature comes to take its place.” Lucy read. “It must be the park!”

l,

“No,” Damian said, still pulling her, “I mean, yes, that is the answer to the riddle, but that’s not where we’re going.” He texted the police to inform them of the location of the hidden package so they could diffuse it, and dragged Lucy away.

The original Gotham Ice Cream shop was one of the oldest remaining buildings in Gotham, although was clearly closed for the night.

Damian saw a flash of green from the kitchens and rushed inside, finding none other than the Riddler standing there. “Stand down, Riddler,” Damian said, holding out his sword, “We’ve got you now!”

Riddler snarled, backing into a defensive stance. “Robin! How did you possibly find me?”

Damian smirked, “The beginning of each clue was clearly spelling out your final location. I-C-E. I didn’t need to follow 5 more clues to figure that out.”

Riddler cursed. “Those clues weren’t for you! They were for--!”

Lucy came skipping up to join Damian. “Hi, Uncle Eddy!”

“Lucille!” Riddler said, immediately warming. “I had so many sights around Gotham for you to see, why’d you go skipping to the end?”

Lucy skipped up to him, and Damian was once again left dumbfounded. “My friend Birdy here isn’t much for riddles, I think,” she said, “Although he enjoyed the elephants! And he knew about the mining carts in the caves, I want to explore those later.”

‘Uncle Eddy’ hugged Lucy, and Damian came to his senses, “THIS is your uncle?!”

Lucy shrugged, “I mean, that’s what I call him. I met him when I was visiting Aunt Harley a few years ago.”

“I heard you had moved to Gotham full time,” Riddler said, “I wanted to be sure you saw the sights. But the bat-brats have to ruin everything I suppose.” Riddler glared at him, and he glared right back.

“I don’t-” Damian started, but cut himself off, “You can’t just be leaving BOMBS around the city!”

“Fireworks!” Lucy and Riddler both corrected.

“Whatever! They’re explosive and they’re dangerous!” Damian hated having to be the safety one. It felt wrong.

Riddler rolled his eyes. “He’s just as much a barrel of laughs as the big one.”

“Aw, he’s sweet, really,” Lucy said, coming over to Damian and linking their arms. “Aunt Harley and Batman set us up on our own little playdate.”

“It is NOT!” Damian said, squirming away from her, “It is NOT a playdate.”

“Uncle Eddy, can my friend Birdy have some Ice Cream too?” Lucy asked, ignoring him.

Riddler and Damian glared again. “Fine.” He pushed his own bowl of ice cream towards Damian and went to get his own. “It’s MYSTERY flavor!”

Damian looked at it hesitantly as Lucy sat down to enjoy. Riddler went back to the kitchen. “It’s coconut,” Lucy said, “But Uncle Eddy likes to think it’s a mystery, so I let him.”

Damian frowned at her. “You’re really weird.”

“Thank you!” Lucy said, patting the seat beside her. “Come on, even you had to admit you had fun today.”

Damian thought about the elephants, and skipping around with Lucy, and watching the fireworks at the mouth of the cave, and seeing her all excited about mining carts for some reason. “Fine,” he said, “But it’s NOT a playdate.”

“Alright, alright,” Lucy said, digging into her ice cream. “Just a regular date then.”

“I--” Damian started, his head exploding with so many protests that he ended up just short circuiting. Lucy continued chowing down on ice cream like she didn’t say anything of importance. So, Damian just sat beside her, and ate his own.

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH19

People weren’t happy with how things went down with Alya in the original MDCSP, so I hope this version suffices. ;)

Previous     First      Next     AO3

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

Chapter 19: Miss Missing You

Alya chewed her nails, pivoting back and forth in her desk chair as Lila settled on her bed. Her thoughts raced too fast for Alya to make sense of them, and Lila’s grave expression did little to calm her nerves. When Alya told her about Adrien and Chloe, she insisted on meeting up. Maybe this way they could both talk to Ladybug, but something was off about Lila. Her jaw was a little too tense, and those green eyes swirled with an intensity Alya couldn’t place. What was going on?

“Is Ladybug on her way too? We have to let her know what they’re plotting,” Alya said, but when Lila remained quiet, she asked, “What?”

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Lila said. “This is going to be hard for me, but I trust you over anyone else.”

“What’s wrong?” Alya asked, and Lila shifted her weight, tucking a strand of long hair behind her ear.

“Well, Ladybug and I…we kind of had a falling out.” Lila lowered her gaze to her lap.

“What?”

“Remember when Chloe tried to impersonate her to make everyone hate me? Well, I told Ladybug about it, and that she shouldn’t trust Chloe anymore, but then last night she gave her back her Miraculous without consulting me.” Lila recounted. “I tried to talk to her and understand why she’d trust Chloe again after what she did to me, but Ladybug freaked out on me and told me not to question her judgment.”

“For real?” Alya gasped. “That’s not like her.”

“I know,” Lila said, “and after what you told me on the phone, I definitely think something weird is going on with her.”

“You don’t think Chloe is manipulating her, do you?” she asked.

Lila pressed her lips together and shook her head. “Not Chloe. I think that…well, I’m sorry, but I think Marinette is behind all of this.”

“Marinette?” Alya shot a glance at the Ladyblog pulled up on her computer, a sinking feeling in her gut.

She hadn’t posted about Queen Bee’s return—couldn’t bring herself to. Something was definitely off with Ladybug, but was it really all Marinette’s doing? Marinette wasn’t one for petty revenge, but maybe she had changed since she left. Or maybe Alya just never knew her like she thought she did.

Alya thought back to the night she was akumatized, the distant look in her bff’s eyes. She’d seemed tired, like all the fight had been drained from her. She didn’t even argue when Alya suggested they stop being friends, a fact that had haunted Alya ever since. Why had Marinette abandoned her so easily? Surely if her stories were to be believed, she would have fought harder, right? Wasn’t the truth worth fighting for?

“You said so yourself, Chloe and Adrien said they were going to get Ladybug to talk about me for Marinette. I think she’s manipulating all of them to get back at me because she can’t let go even after she’s been gone for a month now,” Lila said.

“But that doesn’t make any sense. Why would Marinette do that? When I last spoke to her, she didn’t want anything to do with you or anyone here really,” Alya said. “Well, except Adrien, I guess, but she’s always been head-over-heels for him.”

“She’s obsessed! She’s never liked me, and I never understood why. The only thing I’ve been able to figure out is that she didn’t like me talking to Adrien, so now she’s lured him over to her side and fed him all kinds of lies about me. I don’t even like him that way, but she’s just so insecure and jealous that she thought Adrien would fall in love with me because of all of my accomplishments.” Lila hugged a pillow to her chest. “Now she’s taken one of my best friends away from me too!”

Alya crossed the room to sit beside her on the bed, draping an arm over her shoulders. “I’m sorry, girl. Maybe we can talk to Ladybug and convince her not to do that interview tomorrow.”

“I don’t think we can,” Lila whimpered. “She hasn’t responded to any of my calls ever since the Queen Bee thing. She’s on their side now.”

“Are you sure? I’ve met Ladybug a bunch of times, and she would totally pick up on it if something fishy was going on,” Alya said.

“Watch the interview tomorrow. If Ladybug says anything about me that sounds like them, then you’ll know I’m telling the truth,” Lila said.

Alya pursed her lips but didn’t argue. Lila’s story was just as probable as theirs at this point, and she was right. All they could do was watch the interview and see what happened. For their sake, she hoped that Chloe and Adrien’s plan failed, and Ladybug never mentioned Lila. But a heavy pit was already forming in Alya’s stomach, filling her with dread for the coming day. How had she gotten herself into the middle of all this drama? And how long would it be before the truth was finally revealed?

♪���♪ Don’t Blame Me ♪♫♪

“How long before we give up?” Adrien asked the next afternoon. He leaned against the railing while Chloe manned the spotlight beside him.

“It’s hasn’t even been 20 minutes, Adrikins. I’ve sat up here for entire akuma battles before.” Chloe chided.

“Sorry, I guess I’m just nervous,” he said, letting a breath pass his lips.

Chloe spun on him with a scowl, jabbing her finger into his chest. “Oh no, you are not backing out this time. We’re doing this, so just think about Dupain-Cheng’s awful split-ends or whatever it is you need to keep you motivated.”

Adrien pursed his lips as Chloe turned back to her bee signal. She was right. No backing out this time. Lila was going down once and for all, then Marinette could finally be free. Marinette…

His heart fluttered, warming his cheeks. It would be obvious after today that he was helping Chloe take down Lila. Being intentionally cruel wasn’t in his nature, but he’d do anything to protect the people he loved. To protect the girl he loved.

It had taken him longer than it should have to realize his feelings for her, but now they burned so brightly, he had to wonder how he’d ever missed them. Marinette was a wonderful girl and a dear friend. If ever there was a person to fight for, it was her. She’d understand why he did all of this. It was all for her—always for her.

His heart ached with longing. Now that Marinette went to a different school, he couldn’t see her as often as he used to. Sometimes they went several days without seeing each other, and his heart grew heavier the longer they stayed apart. At least when he loved Ladybug, he got to see her every day when they fought akumas or patrolled the city, but even that wasn’t enough.

Adrien had spent too much of his life alone. Couldn’t the universe give him just one person to cure his loneliness? Missing Marinette was torture. What was she doing right now? Was she thinking about him?

He pulled out his phone and typed a simple message: what’s up?

Ugh, no, that was lame.

Hey cutie ;) what are you up to?

No, too forward.

I was just thinking about you

Too clingy. He backspaced over his message again, eyebrows knitting together in concentration. Why was flirting so much harder as Adrien? If he were Chat Noir, he’d just drop a few cat puns and tell her how pretty she was, but that might be a little abrasive coming from Adrien. The last thing he wanted was to scare her off. After all, she almost kissed him in the garden too. That meant she loved him back, right?

Pressing his lips into a determined line, he typed another message and hit send without overthinking it.

Hey, how’s your day been?

A minute passed before his phone buzzed with a reply: busy. I’m finalizing my designs for Clara. I present to her next week and im super nervous!

Aww don’t be clara is gonna love them.

I hope so! she replied. So what are you up to today?

Uhh im working on a school project with chloe. He lied. We have to interview someone we look up to, and shes demanding we interview ladybug so weve been standing on the roof with her bee signal for like 30 minutes.

Wow ladybug huh? I hope she shows up for you guys. Anyway these designs aren’t going to finish themselves so ill talk to you later! Bye!

good luck!

He smiled down at her messages. Marinette was always running a million miles an hour working on some project or another. She was so driven and passionate—something Adrien deeply admired. Clara would love her designs, and he and Chloe would definitely take down Lila this time. Then he and Marinette could be together without having to worry about anything. They could move to the suburbs and buy a cozy home for their three kids, a dog, and a hamster named-

“Looking for me?” Adrien and Chloe spun around, and Ladybug cocked a hip. “What’s the emergency?”

“Uhh,” Adrien stammered.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “We have to interview one of our personal heroes for a school project, so we picked you. Isn’t that right, Adrikins?” She nudged him with her elbow.

Think about Marinette. Everything was for Marinette. The tears she’d spilled, the pain she’d suffered… Adrien was going to take it all away. Lila would never hurt her again.

“Yeah. Do you have time?” Adrien asked.

Ladybug glanced between them and smiled. “I have a few minutes. Make it quick.”

“Excellent.” Chloe clapped her hands together and paced toward the stairs. “Everything is set up in my suite.”

Adrien took a deep breath as Ladybug fell into step beside him. A month ago being so close to her would have sent his heart into overdrive, but now his heart was pounding for a different reason. Ladybug hated liars. Deceiving her was a direct betrayal of her trust. Even if his feelings for her had changed, he was still her partner, and manipulating her like this didn’t feel right.

“Wait.” He stopped abruptly and caught Ladybug’s wrist. Chloe was already through the doorway to the stairs, and he sent her a silent apology just in case his next words ruined everything. “Chloe and I lied to you. This isn’t for a school project.”

“Then what’s all this about?” Ladybug asked.

“It’s…” Adrien took a deep breath and continued. “You remember Lila, right? She lied about you saving her and how you two are bffs?”

Ladybug sobered. “Yeah?”

“Well, her lies have gotten out of hand, and she hurt someone important to me. Chloe and I planned to trick you into admitting you two were never friends, so that everyone can finally see the truth about her. The interview was just a coverup,” Adrien explained, hanging his head low. “We shouldn’t have lied to you. I’m sorry.”

Ladybug eyed him with pursed lips, those blue eyes working out a solution like he were one of her lucky charms. She seemed to come to a conclusion, her face softening. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

“If you don’t want to help us, I won’t blame you. I know it’s wrong to seek revenge,” Adrien said.

A knowing smile spread across her lips. “That friend of yours must be really special to you.”

“What?”

“For you to resort to something like this, you must care about your friend—the one Lila hurt—a lot,” she said, then with a sigh added, “I don’t normally condone revenge, but I know how dangerous Lila can be. I’ve almost lost my Miraculous because of her several times, so I think you’re right. It’s time everyone learned the truth about Lila Rossi.”

Adrien blinked. “So, wait… You’re going to help us?”

“I made a promise to keep Paris safe, and if we continue to let Lila go unchecked, she’s only going to put more people in danger,” Ladybug said. “It’s time someone put her in her place.”

“Hurry up, you two! I have a hair appointment this evening, and I do not want to be late!” Chloe shouted from the doorway.

Adrien held Ladybug’s gaze, and she gave him an encouraging nod. “Uh, coming!” he called.

He gestured Ladybug ahead, following close behind her, cheeks hot. This was really happening. Ladybug was going to help them stop Lila. After today, everyone would know the truth, and Marinette would be free. They all would.

“Ladybug, you sit on this side.” Chloe directed. “Adrikins and I will sit on this side.”

“Okay,” Ladybug said, sliding onto the couch smoothly.

Adrien took the seat across from her, wiping his palms on his jeans while Chloe barked orders at her butler. Satisfied with the camera angle, Chloe sat beside him and fixed her hair in her compact before calling “action.”

Chloe’s butler—Adrien couldn’t remember his name—started the Instagram live, broadcasting to all of Chloe’s followers. There was no turning back now.

“Hello out there, my little worker bees. Your queen is here with some very special guests today,” Chloe cooed in her token attention-seeking voice. “My favorite people in the whole world besides myself, obviously—Adrien and Ladybug!”

“Hi.”

“Hey.” Adrien waved.

“As you all know, I helped Ladybug defeat another akuma last weekend. Being Queen Bee again was such an honor, and I admit, even I have people I look up to,” she said, flipping her ponytail. “So, Ladybug, thank you for allowing me to become a superheroine. Queen Bee is truly an inspiration.”

“Uh, sure.” Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Chat Noir and I always appreciate help from our allies.”

“You heard it here, everyone! Ladybug values my help,” Chloe said, and Adrien cleared his throat. “Now, onto the topic of today’s livestream. People everywhere are inspired by superheroes like me and Ladybug, so today we are going to give you all the inside scoop on what it takes to be a hero.”

“That’s right, Chloe,” Adrien piped up. “I don’t have superpowers, so I have to ask: what’s it like being a superhero, Ladybug?”

“Well, everyone thinks that having superpowers is all fun and games, but in reality, Chat Noir and I have a huge responsibility. Defending Paris every day requires sacrifice, and we know the whole city is counting on us to succeed. It’s a lot of pressure,” Ladybug said.

“Of course, I know what it’s like being a superhero myself, but can you tell everyone how overwhelming it is to save the day all the time?” Chloe prompted.

“Yeah, totally. It’s a lot of work fighting akumas. Sometimes Hawkmoth makes supervillains at the worst times, and I have to drop everything to go save the city. Leading a double life is challenging, and sometimes it even impacts my day-to-day life. School, friends, family—I’m always rushing all over the place juggling two lives.” Ladybug admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “But I’m happy to do it. Paris is my home, and it’s an honor to defend it. Besides, when the going gets tough, I know I can count on my partners to have my back.”

“So, when you pick a new partner, what qualities do you look for in a person that makes them a good fit to work with you?” Adrien asked.

“I look for people with courage and good intentions. Often times, the people I pick are ones who have stepped up to do the right thing, even if it’s hard. They’re people I know I can trust,” Ladybug said.

“Would you say you consider your allies close personal friends?” Chloe beamed, flashing the camera a wink.

“Well, I don’t know all of them in real life like you, Chloe,” Ladybug said with a cautious glance at the camera. “Sometimes they are people I meet during a battle that impress me, and who prove themselves to be trustworthy.”

“And how do you know if you can trust someone?” Adrien asked. “Do you consult anyone for recommendations, or do you operate on the fly?”

“Most of the time when I give someone a Miraculous, it’s because they’ve demonstrated their character to me. Every person I give a Miraculous to has earned their right to wear it either by helping me or showing that they’re willing to sacrifice to save others. The decision about who gets to wear one and who doesn’t is deeply personal to me,” Ladybug answered. “Not even Chat Noir knows the identities of our allies. It’s something I don’t share with anyone.” She shot Chloe a stern look. “Under normal circumstances.”

“So, you pick the allies by yourself?” Adrien followed up.

“Yes. In the middle of a battle, I wouldn’t even have time to consult anyone if I wanted to.”

“In other words, if anyone were to—I don’t know—claim that they help you choose your partners, they’d be a liar, right?” Chloe added.

“Yeah, I don’t talk to anyone about who I pick.” Ladybug shook her head.

“Ya know, Ladybug, there are some people out there that claim to be your best friend. How do you feel about people lying about knowing you to make themselves more popular?” Chloe asked.

Ladybug locked eyes with Adrien, the weight of their mission heavy on both of their shoulders. She clasped her hands together in her lap and said, “As I’m sure both of you are aware, there will always be people who use your name for their own selfish gain, but I want everyone out there to know that I take my job very seriously. Protecting all of you is my number one priority.”

She took a deep breath. “Being a superhero is dangerous, and that’s why, with the exception of Chat Noir and my trusted allies, Ladybug doesn’t have friends.”

“So, anyone who says they’re your friend is a liar, right?” Adrien asked.

“Yes, and they’re putting themselves in danger. Hawkmoth will stop at nothing to get my Miraculous, so please, if you’re out there… Do the right thing, and tell the truth.” Ladybug pleaded to the camera.

“It’s utterly pathetic when people lie about who they know just to get attention,” Chloe sighed in disgust. “You heard it here, my little bees! Chat Noir and I are Ladybug’s only friends.”

“Well, I’d consider you more of an ally than a frie-”

“And as one of Ladybug’s bffs, I want all of the losers out there to buzz off! Ladybug has much more important things to do, like spending time with me,” Chloe said.

“Right.” Ladybug’s yoyo beeped, and she glanced down at it briefly. “I should really get going. A hero’s work is never done.”

“Of course. Thank you for your time, Ladybug,” Adrien said, shaking her hand.

“No problem. It’s important to me that everyone in Paris knows I’m doing everything I can to keep you all safe, and the people I choose to fight beside me are people I truly trust. We’ll all keep fighting hard to protect this city,” she said, waving two fingers. “Bug out!”

“Well, that does it for this livestream, little bees. Your queen will see you all again next time. Bye-bye!”

♪♫♪ Impossible Year ♪♫♪

“So, anyone who says they’re your friend is a liar, right?”

“Yes.”

Lila was right. They really had gotten to Ladybug. Alya had done her best not to think about Marinette since their falling out. Remembering her old bff was too painful and confusing. Everything Alya thought she knew changed the moment Lila came to their school. The person she trusted became a stranger overnight. Alya wanted to believe that Marinette would never align herself with Chloe or orchestrate a hostile takedown just because she was jealous, but Alya had seen her do crazier things to win Adrien.

“I’m doing everything I can to keep you all safe, and the people I choose to fight beside me are people I truly trust.”

How was Chloe more trustworthy than Alya? All that was necessary for the triumph of evil was that good people do nothing. She’d known from day one that Chloe was evil, so why couldn’t Ladybug see it?  Why would Ladybug align herself with the queen of all evil over someone who dedicated herself to doing the right thing? Was this really all Marinette’s doing? And why?

Was Marinette really that desperate to win Adrien? Did she hate Lila so much that she’d willingly team up with her worst enemy to get back at her for stealing attention away from the boy she liked? From where Alya was sitting, it looked like Marinette already had him, and Lila had always been clear that she wasn’t interested in him that way. Why go through all that trouble to get Ladybug to denounce Lila just to win a boy? But if Marinette was involved with Ladybug…

It all made sense now. The reason Ladybug had picked someone else to wield her Miraculous. How long had they been plotting all of this? And how could Ladybug trust Marinette’s word over Alya’s without even trying to hear her side of the story? Or Lila’s? How could Ladybug not see that she was being manipulated? She was a hero, and one of the best Alya had ever seen. So why was she fighting for the wrong side?

Her head spun, and she gripped the side of her desk for support. Someone needed to tell Ladybug the truth.

“You want to save Ladybug from those you deem evil. Let me help you, Ladyblogger.”

Alya jumped at the sinister voice in her head. She smoothed her thumb over her phone screen, now glowing with dark energy. A cold feeling washed over her, all of her pain and confusion bubbling to the surface. In the center of it all stood her determined resolve, driving her to give in.

Someone needed to tell Ladybug the truth. Someone like her.

[anxiety-banana]

a fic i wrote that im not sure i'll post on ao3 or not

MAJOR TW: the entire fic is based around active shooters/school shootings, please don't read if that could trigger you, i love you all very much and i value everyone's health <3

title: Safe

word count: 1114

========

Having your life flash before your eyes Ahsoka didn’t think she’d ever have to experience.

But she heard the gunshots from across the school, and the only thoughts in her mind were that of the people waiting for her, of her brothers, of her family. Of Rex, and Fives, and Echo, and the people who loved her when they had no reason to.

She was not just alone in the metaphorical sense, the women’s bathroom was completely empty; Ahsoka was fully and completely alone.

The bathroom had a linen closet just outside the door. At the very least, some survival instinct was kicking in and told her that if the shooter did come near her, he might not check the closet. So with careful fingers and a mind blurry with fear, she cracked the door open. One inch, two, three, and she stretched one hand out to grip the handle.

But the door didn’t budge.

And she was suddenly aware of both the locked door in front of her and the slamming one behind her, as the bathroom door decided to make itself known in a silent hallway with an active shooter who was fully willing to kill her.

Ahsoka wished she didn’t hear the shouting behind her, or the gunshot, or the pling of metal on metal distantly. All she did was run.

And run, and run, and only stop when she was certain she was in a room with a door that locked.

She pulled out her phone, not to dial police (she was certain there were people coming already), but to call the only people that mattered when she was afraid she wouldn’t leave the school again unless it was on a gurney.

“Hey, I thought you were supposed to be in third period-”

The words tumbled out of her mouth. “Rex, there’s a shooter in the school.” She whisper-yelled, hoping and praying the words came out right and he heard exactly what she said, because she was not repeating herself.

Ahsoka thought she heard someone yell on the other end. She didn’t pay attention. “Where are you?”

She took a moment to scan her surroundings. “An empty classroom. The door’s locked.”

“Okay ad’ika, the police are on their way. You’re gonna be fine.”

And Rex wouldn’t lie to her. She had to believe that.

She had to believe that, because she knew for certain somebody had shot at her a minute before, and it wasn’t the police. She needed to get out of there, needed to get out alive, because she had Coruscant Uni waiting for her to graduate, and she was going to study Physics and Engineering on her full-ride scholarship, coming home on the weekends to watch stupid movies with her brothers and steal shifts at Anakin’s repair shop.

She was going to live. She had to.

With what sounded to be physical pain on the other end of the phone, Rex asked, “Are you hurt?”

Ahsoka had heard of what adrenaline did to you in such situations, and knew it could have easily masked an entire bullet wound from a few minutes prior, but with a frantic search of her own body for blood or pain, she denied. “I’m okay.”

And well, she was far from okay. But she had two legs to walk out on and nothing was bleeding, so physically, she was just fine.

“Keep talking to me, Soka, we’re going to get you out of there.” There was shuffling as he (and likely at least two other brothers) ran to the car.

“But what if they hear me?” She said softly.

She hadn’t heard footsteps yet, but she was waiting for them. Waiting for them to march in like drums marching her to her own death. “I’ll talk to you, then, sound good?” Ahsoka hummed. “Fives and Echo came early, they were going to surprise you for your birthday.”

Something of a wry laugh escaped her lips. She’d forgotten about her own birthday.

“Cody’s going to be home for dinner too, I think. He said he’d get out of work early tomorrow to come. He likes to joke, but I know he wouldn’t miss you for the world.”

You might learn to, something dark whispered as footsteps approached her.

“We’re pulling up to the school now, Ahsoka. There’s police everywhere, you’re going to be just fine.” She knew he was reassuring himself as much as her. “We’ll be right outside waiting for you when the police come find you. We’ll grab the greasiest, unhealthiest fast food we can find for lunch, and then we’ll go home and you’ll tell me all about your last shift. You’ll tell me about some crazy customer who was hitting the gas instead of the brake and had to get his car towed. Got it?”

The footsteps got louder. She was waiting for it. Waiting for the glass to break and a hand to reach in and unlock the door, waiting to stare down the barrel of a gun as she said goodbye to Rex in her final moments.

“Got it?” He repeated to numb ears.

The footsteps pounded. She curled up tighter, tucked in a corner of the room in the smallest ball she could, hoping that maybe if she was small enough they just wouldn’t see her. They’d pass right by and never know she was there-

“Coruscant Police!” They yelled from outside the door. Another set of footsteps joined. “Anyone in there?”

Ahsoka didn’t think she’d ever sleep again, but she knew their voices would save her from the nightmares if she did.

With shaking hands, she stood, legs wobbly and tears still streaming down her face as Rex still talked into her ear. “They’re here, Rex,” She whispered softly.

“Who? Who’s here?”

“Police, I’m fine, I’m gonna be fine-” Ahsoka threw open the door to two officers, bullet proof vests strapped to their chests and firearms gripped in tight hands, quickly holstering the guns at the sight of her, teary eyed and shaking. “I’m fine.”

She barely registered the man-and-woman-duo leading her towards the doors, Ahsoka repeating the one phrase to herself as if letting go of the words meant letting go of her life. But in moments (Minutes? Seconds?) she was walking through the front doors and scanning the parking lot.

Ahsoka was sure there was an officer trying to talk to her, take her statement like on a crime show, but her thoughts were on the three brothers closing in on her, tackling her in a hug, and consoling her.

Rex cupped her face in his hands, brushing a tear from her cheek. “You’re safe.”

She couldn’t do more than nod.

“I’m safe.”

[offtopicoverload]

what’s up kc!! 2, 8, 9, 13, 17, 28, and 37 for the meme for fic writer questions 😁

love youuuuu!

2 (Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?)

so i answered here but then i looked up tropes cuz i couldn’t think of any and saw coffee shop au and i mean maybe. i haven’t read many, but they’re always cute yknow?

sidenote- i saw the term ‘draco in leather pants’ and just ????

8 (Share a snippet from one of your favourite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.)

“What are we doing here? Are you going to mug me?”

“No! Close your eyes.”

“Okay, you’re definitely mugging me.”

“Just do it. Please? Perfect.”

“This is a very elaborate ruse to mug me, you know.”

“Would you stop it?”

“Just saying. You already know where I live and when I have work, you don’t have to mug me.”

“Stop it or I really am gonna mug you.”

“Knew it.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Fine, fine. Just leave my money alone.”

“Just your money?”

“What’s that meant to mean? You want my phone, too?”

“Just checking if you’re available then.”

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“What you want out of me. I’m not mugging people with you.” 

“You’re the worst.”

“Aw, you really care.”

“I care about your money.”

“Knew it. Golddigger.”

“Arsehole.”

“Says the mugger.”

the banter in hope dumps noah is probably one of my favourites ive done, like i just really liked writing rosie as an annoying little shit ashdfjkg and then this bit specifically came to me in a fever dream and i think was one of my first ventures into banter banter sooooo

9 (What fic has been the hardest to write?)
oof. i dunno. i forced whispers and hope dumps noah during bouts of block, i think whispers took me like 6 hours in the middle of the night to finish piecing together or something. and hdn was like 12 to get a couple k done

13 (What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?)

just do whatever. dont worry about other people or grammar, or anything, say fuck it and have fun

ive always been super neurotic about spelling and grammar and formatting, and just kinda saying not worrying about that dumbass rule that says you cant start a sentence with “and” or “but” or “because” has been really fuckin rad

17 (Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write scenes out of order?)

out of order and bouncing between fics. i currently have 10 docs open, and ive been jumping through three today, writing whatever scene is easier at the time

28 (Share three of your favourite fic writers and why you love them so much)

OKAY SO

@ravenadottir like. themmmmmm yknow? the amount they write, and the talent and skill and dedication to everything is just unbelievable. like im still not over that lottie fic and its been months since i read it last

@bubblelaureno cuz its iris and i love them to death and they’re so dedicated to everything and so sweet and i dont get how they write so much or come up with the things they do, but they fuckin do it man

and then coco g on ao3 has one of my fav oneshots, how did we get here? it was one of the first fics i ever read and im still not over it

37 (Talk about your current WIPs)

oh boy. ill just do first two on my posting. ones a queen b request that i totally forgot about for two whole ass months and am finishing to post tomorrow or so, its essentially a rewrite of chapter 1. and then the second is elisa x mc for the fanfic sub prompt competition of fake dating and i dont really wanna spoil cuz im super hyped

fic asks

[alright--okay]

you ever been to a basement show? pt. 4

tsukishima kei x reader

summary: Tsukishima sees you everywhere, and for a big school thats weird. And it’s not like he’s gonna do anything, that’d be even weirder, but one day in your shared lecture he sees you wearing a shirt with some small band’s name. A band he know. And well, now he has to know who you are.

word count: ~2.7 k

a/n: the first five chapters are already on ao3 so imma post them here real quick, hope anyone reading enjoys!

read on ao3!

pt. 4 Go Home. Play Music. Feel Better. - Michael Cera Palin

“Ohoho, look who decided to show up,” you said to Tsukishima as he moved to sit beside you in the lecture hall.

Tsukishima gave you an exasperated look, “class didn’t even start yet. Also please don’t take on those idiots’ mannerisms.”

“Why not? I think it’s fun. And completely unrelated, but want to come to the store with me after class? Bokuto recommended me this hair gel and I’ve always wanted to try-”

“Please stop,” Tsukishima turned to face the front of the class as you broke out into quiet giggles.

“Seriously though, I didn’t get to eat breakfast this morning so I’m gonna get something at that cafe near our apartments if you want to join.”

This wasn’t a date. Tsukishima knew this. That didn’t stop his heart from beating a tad bit faster or the apples of his cheeks growing rosier.

Tsukishima shifted his arm to one of the uncomfortable arm rests of the seat, leaning his head against his hand to hopefully help cover any of the heat on his cheeks, “yeah, I’m down.”

“Cool,” from the corner of his eye, Tsukishima saw you give your own small smile as you turned to focus on the professor about to start the lecture.

This wasn’t a date.

~~~~~~

Class dragged on, but soon enough you and Tsukishima were making the short journey to the cafe.

“Did you finish the paper for that class?” Tsukishima asked.

“What paper?”

“The one he assigned last week? Due on Wednesday? The one on that civilization-”

“Wait, no, no, no. That paper’s due on the 18th.”

“y/n…” Tsukshima slowed his pace to look you in your eyes, “Wednesday is the 18th.”

You let a quiet “fuck” slip from your mouth as you faced forward, moving quickly to the cafe now only a few shops away, “then no, I haven’t even started it.”

“Yeah that seemed pretty obvious,” Tsukishima said with a smirk.

“He never mentioned it again! I can’t keep track of everything!”

“Yeah, not even the date apparently,” Tsukishima snickered, opening the door for the two of you.

“Alright, listen!” Tsukishima’s laugh only grew louder, “I thought this class was gonna be fun and easy, and now I have to write a paper in like two days. Disgusting,” your attentioned moved to the menu hanging above the register.

“It’s short, you’re being dramatic.”

“Fuck you,” Tsukishima let out a startled laugh while you moved forward to give your order and pay then stood off to the side waiting for Tsukishima to do the same.

Tsukishima silently pointed to a table off in the corner that was free, “what is your major anyway?” he said as the two of you settled down into the seats.

You told him your major with a small shrug, “Nothing too special, but I liked it in high school so I figured I’d just keep up with it. Are you actually archeology or are you also just in this class for the hell of it?”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes, “Yes, I’m an archeology major, but this class doesn’t count for much since it's pretty entry level.”

“So what you’re saying is that you’re good at this stuff?”

“I’m not writing your paper.” “I wouldn’t ask that!” you said with a frown, “I was wondering if you could at least help me though. Read it over, give me some advice, make sure it’ll give me a decent grade, stuff like that. Come on, I’ll make you cookies.”

Tsukishima paused for a moment, “What about a strawberry shortcake?”

“I mean I’ll have to go to the store…” Tsukishima continued to stare at you, “but fine! Yes, I’ll make you a strawberry shortcake, you bastard.” You mumbled the last part under your breath as you got up to get yours and Tsukishima’s orders.

Making a cake would be a small price to pay for a good grade in a class you honestly didn’t care about. Spending time with Tsukishima didn’t hurt either.

“Get as much of it done as you can tonight, I’m done with class pretty early tomorrow so we can work on it together at my place whenever you’re free,” Tsukishima gave you the short rundown as you place the food on the table.

“Why don’t we do it at my place? You have like three roommates. I have Yachi.”

“Good point, text me tomorrow when you’re good,” Tsukishima said with a small nod.

~~~

It was a little past one on tuesday when you decided to text Tsukishima.

To Tsukishima archeology:

hey im walking home now so feel free to come over whenever

From Tsukishima archeology:

alright ill be there soon

You slid your phone back into your pocket, trying to turn your focus on the music flowing through your headphones and not on the lanky blonde that would be spending the rest of the day in your apartment.

You saw Tsukishima at least three times a week and most of that time was spent alone with each other in class or recitation, but this was… different. You were going to be actually alone with the guy. No distractions from a professor or a friend or a cafe worker calling out names. And okay Tsukishima was mildly attractive… Okay he was attractive but you wouldn’t let that come between you and the new friend you made in the snarky asshole.

It's not like anything would happen anyway. Tsukishima definitely didn’t like you like that, and no amount of daydreaming him confessing to you would make it come true (even if it was a very nice daydream).

It wasn’t long before you made it up to your apartment. Yachi had a late class today so you weren’t expecting her back until tonight, hopefully after Tsukishima had already left. It wasn’t that you didn’t want Yachi to know… but Yachi had already been making assumptions and Tsukishima coming over to “do work” alone in your room would do nothing but feed her imagination (even if it was the truth).

In the middle of eating a quick snack, Tsukishima sent you a text saying he was at your building.

You scrambled down the staircase of your building to meet Tsukishima who was waiting (somewhat) patiently on the stoop of your building.

“Finally,” he muttered as you widened the door for him to pass.

“You gave me no warning! Should’ve left you out here longer.”

“Should I just leave then? Seems like you don’t want me here so I’ll just-”

You put your hands on Tsukishima’s back, pushing him further into the building, “Nope, you’re helping me. You already agreed, no backing out.”

Tsukishima let out a dramatic sigh, now trailing behind you, “Did you at least start it?”

“Yes, in fact, I did. Almost done too, just need one more paragraph to push me over the word minimum.”

“What am I supposed to do in the meantime? I thought I was just gonna read it over?” Tsukishima asked as you let him into your and Yachi’s apartment, leading him to your small kitchen table.

“I dunno, dude; do other homework, work on your own paper, pick an album to listen to,” you gestured lazily towards your bedroom door, “all my vinyl is in the crates to the right.”

You could tell Tsukishima tried very hard to hide his excitement, “well, I already submitted my paper,” he ‘casually’ slid his backpack off his shoulders and made his way to the door you just pointed out.

You followed him over, showing him the milk crates you were talking about, your record player sitting on the dresser nearby.

“If you're gonna be sitting here, I’ll work at my desk,” you gathered your laptop and the notebook you had used to organize your paper, settling at the small desk, “if you need any help let me know.”

Tsukishima gave you a small smile and proceeded to get down on the floor to sit cross legged, flipping through the crate closest to him.

The two of you continued in silence for a while until Tsukishima gave a light poke to your shoulder, a recognizable album in his hand.

“I’ve never actually used a record player, so can you…” he trailed off, pushing the album towards you.

You tried to contain your amusement. Tsukishima clearly did not want to be asking you this, but you were glad he took this route instead of trying it and scratching up your records.

“Yeah sure, good pick by the way,” you got up from your desk chair and took the album, sliding the sleeve out to get to the vinyl itself, this one in particular being a bright blue as opposed to the typical black.

You ran him through how to handle the records and how to work your particular player so he would be able to flip and change the records whenever, and soon enough the beginning of Just Friends’ album Nothing but Love began to play.

You smiled again, making your way back to your desk to finish up your paper while Tsukishima went back to sitting on your floor, alternating between listening to the music and playing on his phone.

By the time the album came to an end you placed your laptop in Tsukishima’s lap, “be gentle,” you said, moving to grab an album at random and replace the one coming to an end.

“I’m not gonna promise anything,” he replied, adjusting his glasses to begin reading your paper.

You wandered off to the kitchen for a glass of water, not wanting to be in the room while Tsukishima was judging your writing.

“It’s not that bad!” Tsukishima called from your room, you walked over to lean in the door frame, “I marked some stuff you should reword and you should probably include that thing he mentioned a while ago…” Tsukishima continued to talk about your paper, flipping through notes to bring up examples and point out which parts he found errors in.

“But not bad?” you questioned again with a small smile, taking your laptop back.

“Not great, but not bad,” he said getting up to get his own stuff from the kitchen.

“I’ll take it!” you took it as a win when you heard Tsukishima’s laughter from the other room.

~~~

It was well into the evening by now, Tsukishima had helped fully finalize your paper a while ago but the two of you continued to talk and do work in your room. At this point you knew Yachi was going to be here soon. You would have to kick Tsukishima out now if you didn’t want her to notice just how long the boy had spent here and that just seemed rude and unnecessary (plus you didn’t really want Tsukishima to go just yet).

“Did you want to just stay for dinner? Yachi said she's picking something up, so if you want anything speak now.”

Tsukishima paused shortly at your question, “where’s she stopping?”

You relayed your and Tsukishima’s order to Yachi hoping she’d get home soon so you could have a proper meal.

You and Tsukishima were back to the floor, sifting through albums and talking over the music in the background.

“I wish you had A Flourish and a Spoil,” Tsukishima said, examining the art of one particular album.

“By The Districts?” Tsukishima’s eyes darted over to you, making you laugh, “I have that one, just probably got misplaced if it’s not with the D’s,” you took a minute to think back to the last time you had listened to the album, trying to place where it currently was.

You hauled yourself up and went to your dresser. Beside your record player was a short stack of albums you had been listening to the other day but were too lazy at the time to properly put away. Sure enough, the dark album art peaked from the pile.

You took the whole stack over to your crates, passing the album to Tsukishima’s waiting hands.

“We’re listening to this next,” Tsukishima said, eyes roaming the back of the album, examining all the details.

“We can definitely do that,” you replied, sorting the albums, “but Yachi’s gonna be here soon so you good with waiting a little bit?”

He gave you a small nod and the two of you resumed your quiet activities with the current record coming to an end. It wasn’t long after you heard the apartment’s door open with Yachi making her presence known.

The three of you sat around the small kitchen table, eating your food and talking about your days. You tried to ignore all of Yachi’s “subtle” looks in favor of asking about the class she just got out of.

“I hate that it lets out so late!” Yachi complained, dropping her head to the table, “I’m so tired and the walk home gets scary in the dark.”

“You can always ask me or Yamaguchi to walk with you,” Tsukishima said, looking up from his food, “if you’re really anxious we really wouldn’t mind, it’s a short walk.”

“Tsukki!” Yachi let out a cry, tears gathering in her eyes, “don’t listen to them, you’re so sweet, I love you.”

“Wait, listen to who-” Yachi interrupted his questions by giving his stiff posture a hug, “what are people saying about me?”

Yachi continued her hug, Tsukishima slowly raising a hand to pat her back, “nothing, nothing, it doesn’t matter anyway.”

You laughed at Tsukishima’s confused and irked expression, clearly not knowing how to interpret Yachi’s words.

Yachi removed herself from Tsukishima, “well, I am exhausted, goodnight,” Yachi said, giving you both a smile.

“Goodnight, Yachi, see you tomorrow,” you said, Tsukishima giving his own goodnight before turning to look you in the eye.

“It’s time,” he said, quickly cleaning up your plates and then heading to your room.

You laughed as you trailed behind him. He was already setting up the vinyl so you settled on your bed, letting your back fall into the comforter sitting atop your mattress.

The opening beats of the first song gently filled your room, quiet enough to not disturb Yachi but loud enough that the thumping drums still hit in your chest. Tsukishima turned around and you patted the spot beside you. He seemed to hesitate for a second before making his way over, letting his body lay beside your own.

“I used to listen to this album all the time in high school,” Tsukishima said to the ceiling. You turned your head to look at his side profile, “I think at the time it was just cause I liked how it sounded,” he paused for a particular chorus to pass, “but now I actually listen to it.”

You turned your head back to the ceiling, “I get that. A lot of albums have changed meaning for me over the years. This always felt like a new beginning though.”

Tsukishima hummed beside you. You let the music fill the room, you and Tsukishima each focusing on the lyrics of each song and how one connected to another.

Side A came to its gentle end, so you got up to slowly flip it, not wanting to break the calm atmosphere your room held at the moment. You took your spot beside Tsukishima again, trying not to disturb him.

“God, this album slaps,” Tsukishima mumbled under his breath at the crescendo of the song, making you break out into a laugh. Tsukishima surprisingly let out a chuckle of his own, “what? You know it's true.”

“I know, I know,” you let your giggles peter out, “I feel like you have to save that for Young Blood though.”

“It can be applied in a variety of places, don’t go around constricting me.”

“Fair enough,” you smiled at him, scooting your legs further on the bed to get more comfortable.

Young Blood, as good of a song as it was, was eight minutes long and by the final words of it, you could feel yourself drifting. It started with just resting your eyes, but soon your body was trying to catch up on the lack of sleep.

As your mind was shutting down, you heard a soft snore beside you. I’ll deal with this tomorrow, you thought to yourself before succumbing to the warmth of your room and the body beside you, letting the final song of the album lull you to sleep.

[watchmegetobsessed]

Enchanted - Adam Sackler (pt. 2)

hi guys! this is a repost because something went wrong with the original one and it couldn’t be opened for some reason. let me know if it doesn’t work again! im also posting this story on AO3 so if anything happens next time you can always find it there! click here to see my profile

series summary: You are casted as Giselle in the Broadway adaptation of Enchanted with Adam as Robert.

word count: ~4k

Part 1

masterlist

Chapter title: Limo

“Let’s see one more time from the second verse,” Cynthia, your vocal coach instructs sitting back behind the piano, eyes fixed on the sheets before her fingers start working on the keys, bringing the song alive again.

Taking a deep breath your chest buffs and a moment later you are singing the lines you’ve been practicing for hours now. Your vocal chords feel tired, but you keep pushing and the notes come out almost perfectly.

“Amazing! Don’t forget to make the end of the second line a little more airy and sweet,” Cynthia reminds you when you finish and grabbing a pen you circle the word to remind yourself next time.

“Thank you, will do,” you smile as you start packing your stuff.

It’s been just two days since the table reading, so far you’ve had two rehearsals with Cynthia and two meetings with the animation crew that will be making the beginning of the story into animation, just like in the movie and it’s going to be projected to four different screens on the stage, giving a shorter version of the original one before anyone sets feet on stage in real life. You are beyond excited and thrilled to see the outcome of all these little pieces, but that’s gonna take a little longer.

As you say your goodbye to Cynthia you walk out of the room and head up to the office since Petra asked you to drop by for some more signing. One arm deep in your bag, you’re looking for your phone when you turn the corner in the hallway and you bump right into someone.

“Whoa there, Giselle. Watch out, this is the real world.”

Two large hands are on your arms as Adam’s low chuckle rings in your ear.

“Oh, sorry. I’m a little tired,” you shyly smile taking a step back and as your eyes find his gaze the picture of him spanking that girl in the short film appears in front of you, making your cheeks red as a tomato.

“It’s exhausting being a princess, right?” he jokes with a charming smile, brushing his hair out of his forehead as he shifts his weight from one leg to the other. “Where you headed?”

“I just, um… I need to sign a few papers in the office.”

“You done for the day?” “Yeah, I just had a rehearsal with my vocal couch,” you nod tugging your hair behind your ears, his intense look making your nerves tremble inside you. This man is really just something else and figuring out seems like the hardest task you’ve had to face so far.

“Sounds great, wanna grab something to eat? I feel like we should get to know each other better. Dance practices start tomorrow, I would hate to feel awkward when we are trying to look madly in love.”

He has a valid point, though you’re not sure if being alone with him is a good idea, but you just don’t want to appear rude, so you don’t have any choice than to accept the invitation. Adam walks you to the office and waits for you while you sign the paperwork, chatting up with a young assistant outside and when you return you have no doubt she has fallen for him under those three minutes you’ve spent inside.

“Alright, see you around Susan,” he salutes seeing you walk out.

“Bye Adam!” she giggles returning to her work and you can’t help but glare at her a little longer, watching her absentminded smile linger on her lips from the conversation with him.

“What?” Adam asks when the two of you are in the elevator and most likely your look on him gives away you are deep in your thoughts about him.

“Nothing,” you shake your head forcing your eyes away from his tall frame.

“Come on, I can tell you have something to say,” he chuckles tilting his head to the side.

“I don’t,” you insist. No way you are telling him what’s been on your mind.

“So you are the kind of person who just pushes everything deep down into herself and then at one point you’ll just explode?”

“I’m not pushing anything down, I just like to keep some stuff private,” you narrow your eyes at him. “Do you share everything you think about with the people around you?”

“Actually, I do,” he states as the elevator door opens and you walk out side-by-side. “I’m an honest person and I have always had a hard time filtering what leaves my mouth.”

“So you just blurt everything out?” you ask with an amused chuckle.

“Basically,” he nods holding the door open for you as the two of you step out into the chilly late afternoon of the city.

“That’s can’t be too beneficial sometimes.”

“Have I offended people with my words? Definitely, but at least you don’t have to worry about what I think about because you actually know,” he scoffs and you shake your head at him chuckling.

He suggests a pasta place near and you let him lead the way while the two of you keep up a rather light, nice conversation. When you finally sit at the table with your delicious looking carbonara spaghetti right in front of you, that’s when you realize how hungry you’ve really been feeling.

“So, I’m not really big on dancing,” he starts, eyes fixed on his plate as he twirls his fork around, getting the pasta around it before sticking it into his mouth. “I apologize for all the times I’ll crush your feet in advance.”

“How did you get the part if you can’t dance?” you chuckle.

“Do you think Patrick Dempsey was a great dancer in the movie?” he asks and you see his point. “Anyway, I’m just that charming, I guess,” he shrugs jokingly.

“Yeah. I’ll be doing the real work anyway.”

“All the singing, dancing and everything, it really is on your shoulders.”

You just silently nod, suddenly realizing the truth behind those words. The excitement and amusement have pushed everything aside in the past week, but the thought of being a leading role in a Broadway show has been weighing on you secretly, building up your anxiety in the back of your mind about how much is really on your performance.

“Did I say something?” Adam asks, the fork stopping in his hand before he places it back onto his plate, looking at you searching for an answer.

“No, you didn’t.”

“Then why do you look like you just saw a pedophile for the first time?”

“That’s an odd comparison,” you huff at his words.

“But it’s the truth. So what’s gotten you all pale suddenly?”

“I guess it’s just the weight of this whole thing,” you shrug, trying to make it look like a smaller deal than it really is for you.

“It really is a big thing,” he nods in agreement and you’re glad he doesn’t try to convince you it’s just all in your head. “When my previous show opened on Broadway, my then girlfriend just dropped at me that she is moving to Iowa and I couldn’t focus through the night, I felt like I fucked the whole thing up.”

The mentioning of his ex-girlfriend has you wondering who he is talking about. Is this the girl from the film or the one he made the movie with? Is this Jessa girl still his girlfriend anyway? You didn’t find that out and it would be weird to just ask him about it, right?

“Sounds like the worst thing to say to someone who is about to go on stage.”

“Yeah, she didn’t really understand the concept of timing, I guess.” Adam shakes his head at the thought as he continues eating and your curiosity is growing bigger with each passing moment. You just can’t let it slip without a word, you need to ask him about the film. He put it out himself for the whole world to see, he can’t be that ashamed of it, right?

“So… Is this the girl from your film?”

His eyes flicker up to you and you immediately feel your cheeks heating up under his gaze. At first you regret opening your mouth, his straight face frightens you, but then you see that tiny smile playing on his lips and you figure he is more amused than mad.

“So you did your search on me.”

“My friend did,” you shrug and this is the truth, it was Lora who went digging, but he doesn’t have to know it was your idea.

“I bet you have questions.” Leaning back in his seat he drops his hands to his lap.

“Quite a few,” you nod, not wanting to lie now. This is your chance to have a better look at what kind of man he really is.

“Shoot them.”

“Is it true? The plot really happened?”

“Indeed,” he nods without the slightest sign of shame on his face. “I dated Hannah, kind of on and off for a while, then we broke up, and I formed a surprising bond with her best friend, Jessa that eventually turned into a relationship.”

“Don’t you think it was fucked up to date your ex’s best friend?”

You still haven’t been able to wrap your head around the betrayal that it must have been for the first girl, to see her ex with someone she probably trusted and loved.

“I’m not denying that we could have dealt with the situation in a smarter and nicer way, it would have been better if we just came clear at the beginning and be honest with Hannah, but I do not regret being with Jessa.”

“Has she moved on?” you ask and you quickly add: “Hannah, I mean.”

“She lives upstate now and has a baby. As far as I know she and Jessa made up, so… Yeah.”

“So you and Jessa are not together anymore?” You find yourself asking, and the amount of curiosity in yourself surprises you. You definitely shouldn’t care about this as much as you do.

“No,” he shakes his head. “It was never gonna last, we were destroying each other.”

You’re dying to know more, wanting to find out what he really means by that, but you feel like you can’t cross this line just yet, so you have to put up with whatever you got.

“You watched the whole thing?” His eyes flicker up to you, now he is the curious one.

“No, just a little bit of it,” you say, feeling the blush return to your cheeks as the spanking scene immediately starts in your mind again. Adam stares at you for a bit, trying to figure out how much you really saw and you guess your face gives you away way more than you’d want it.

“You think I’m weird,” he states and not questions.

“I was just… surprised,” you admit chuckling. “I wasn’t expecting to see you spank someone on the screen.”

“So you are that… vanilla type of person, huh?”

“I’m sorry?” you grimace.

“Spanking is not that kinky, you wouldn’t believe what kind of fucked up shit people actually do. But if you are horrified of spanking you really are that prude type of person.”

“I’m not prude,” you defend yourself, the hurt in yourself surprising you. Why do you care what he thinks about you?

“Oh really?” He raises his eyebrows at you, obviously enjoying where the conversation is heading. “What’s the most extreme place where you’ve had sex?”

Now you really think your head looks like a tomato and you regret getting into this conversation. You should have known he would go into details.

“I’m not talking about this with you.” Shaking your head you reach for your drink and wish you could drown yourself in the icy water.

“Why? It’s not that big of a deal, you already know something juicy about me,” he chuckles, clearly enjoying making you feel uncomfortable.

“No, but I don’t think it’s appropriate.”

“You’ve seen me spanking someone, I’m sure you can’t get the picture out of your head. Give me something I can think about so we can be equal.”

“That’s literally the worst reasoning I’ve ever heard,” you shake your head laughing.

“Come on! If you tell me, it will help bringing us closer and we can work together better.”

“I doubt that would be the situation,” you give him a look placing your glass back to the table, but he is just smirking at you cheekily.

“I won’t tell anyone, alright? And besides, I’m asking for just one thing. If you watch my whole film, you’ll have a lot more on me, so you’ll be winning.”

“I don’t know if it should be considered winning and I’m not planning on watching the rest of your film, so…”

“Y/N, stop being a pussy!” he groans rolling his eyes at you. “Just spill it!”

He is really not giving up and you blame yourself for getting yourself into this in the first place. You should have just kept your mouth shut.

He leans forward and pouts his lip at you, begging with his eyes and you know you’re screwed. You have no choice but tell him.

“In a limo,” you simply say and you watch his eyes go wide.

“W-With like other people in there, or…”

“No, it was just me and the guy and the partition was up, but I think the driver knew exactly what was happening,” you shake your head chuckling at the memory.

“When did this happen?”

“I was… twenty. So like five years ago. I was dating this rich guy who took me to a posh party and I drank a little too much from the fancy champagne so I didn’t care to wait until we got back to my place.”

You don’t feel that nasty like you were expecting to, it’s like sharing a dirty little secret without getting judged, because Adam looks more thrilled than disgusted by this little detail he just learned about you.

“Was it any good?”

“I mean, we were kinda drunk and it’s not as comfortable as you’d think it would be in a limo, because the height is not enough in there, but it wasn’t bad for sure,” you admit chuckling.

“Mhm, alright, now I’ll think of you every time I see a limo somewhere,” he nods and you kick him under the table making him laugh.

“Shut up. Don’t you ever bring this up, alright?” you warn him holding up a finger in front of him. Raising his hands he shows he got the hint, though you are not perfectly sure he won’t ever mention it.

You hate to say but he was right when he said it would bring you and him closer. After sharing such an intimate thing you don’t feel that anxious just being around him. You’d think talking about your most extreme sex experience and his kink of spanking someone would birth some very awkward tension between the two of you, but it’s not like that at all. You still think he is quite weird in some kind of way, but then… who isn’t? You’re pretty sure he has something against you as well, this is just how it is.

 ***

 The thing with Adam and his role is that he basically falls out of all the dancing and singing, leaving the hardest tasks to you and Clyde while he is usually just… there. In the park scene you’ll have a whole ballet with about thirty dancers with a continuously changing set around you, dancing for about three minutes straight while all Adam has to do is just… follow you around.

But he still attends rehearsals because Matt says Adam needs to know where he stands in the whole at all times. This is why you are at a huge mirrored room with ten dancers, you and Matt, relentlessly working on the choreography for part of the park scene while Adam just basically lingers around the room, occasionally standing in his spot.

“Get a great hold on her hip and just let her momentum help you raise her,” Matt instructs to the young dancer guy whose name you’ve been trying to remember for an hour, but it just doesn’t come to you. You stand facing each other as he nods and grabs on your hips firmly while you put your hands to his shoulders.

“Five, six, seven, eight!” Matt counts and you leap away from the ground, jumping up, but he misses the beat and doesn’t hold you in time, making you fall back to your feet and failing the move, again. “It’s not that hard, Jordan!” Matt snaps, clearly annoyed that you’ve been trying to nail this move for about ten minutes now. At least now you have his name.

He nervously lets go of you, rubbing his face with his hands, you bet he is trying his best, but he is just too nervous to do it.

Looking around Matt seemingly tries to find a substitute, but the small group of dancers at the rehearsal is not too promising, given the fact that most of them are women. You cross your arms on your chest, swinging your hips to the sides absentmindedly as you wait patiently. Matt’s dark and tired eyes land on Adam, who is sitting in the corner, reading a book and he makes an immediate decision.

“Adam, would you join us, please?”

His head shoots up and nodding he puts the book down striding over to you in the middle of the room.

“We need to improvise and I’m sure you’ll have no problem lifting her up,” Matt explains and walking around he instructs his hands to your hips.

You gulp hard at the warmth of his touch, having him so close is suddenly making you more self-conscious at the way you stand and look. Matt tells him how the move should go and Adam seems to be deep in his focus as he nods at the instructions.

“Y/N, try to jump a little higher, Adam is taller so you’ll need more power.”

“Okay,” you nod placing your hands to his broad shoulders.

“Alright, five, six, seven, eight!”

Bending your knee you push yourself away from the ground, your eyes meeting Adam’s gaze the moment your feet rise into the air and unlike with Jordan, you actually stay in the air.

His grip on your hips tighten, fingers digging into you and you suck on your breath holding part of your weight on your arms leant onto his shoulders. Just as Matt told him, he twirls you around, the skirt you’ve been wearing for rehearsals to make you get used to your future dresses flows after your frame until he finishes the whole circle and gently puts you down to the floor again, hands still on your waist and you don’t let go of him either.

“Okay, this looked amazing, so we are keeping it with you,” Matt cheers clapping his hands together, making both of you turn to him.

“What?” you ask a little confused.

“Yeah, I think it would look great.”

“Isn’t the scene about him being totally skeptical about the whole singing and dancing?”

“Yeah, but there is conflict in him, the music takes him a little bit so I think it would actually be amazing if he was the one doing the lifting.”

You see his logic and you have to admit it looks good, so you don’t question his decision. Matt puts the music on and the dancers take their spot around you as you start the previously learned choreography. You see Adam following his way around while everyone else is dancing around him, keeping up his skeptical act before it’s finally time for the lift again.

Your hands go to his shoulders and this time the whole move is faster, it’s just about a heartbeat long, but your eyes meet again and you let out a gasp knowing the music is tuning out the sound of it. You wouldn’t bet your life on it, but for a split second it feels like he squeezes your hips while holding up, and when he lets go of you his hand brushes against your butt or so it feels.

Your body reacts regardless of what your brain is telling yourself. It feels good to be touched by him and whenever his fingers dig into your flesh you think about what it would feel like if you weren’t dressed. And then, you make the mistake of thinking about the film again, the way his arms flexed with each movement before his palm collided with the girl’s ass.

You miss a step, but luckily, it’s not that big of a deal, Matt just tells you to focus next time and you shortly nod before he orders a five minute break. Wanting to escape the closeness of Adam you launch for your bag in the back of the room and grab your water feeling like you need to clear yourself out somehow.

“You clearly can’t contain your thoughts.”

His voice makes you jump and turning around your eyes meet his satisfied grin that you want to wipe off of him so bad.

“It would be easier if you weren’t touching my ass.”

“I wasn’t!” he protests, but the cheeky smile on his face gives him away and that you felt it right. He really was touching your ass. “If it makes you feel better, I thought that your rich ex-boyfriend had the same view of you in the limo while you rode him that I have when I lift you up.”

“Fucking Hell, Adam!” you gasp smacking his arm as he just laughs, enjoying that he can make you feel uncomfortable so easily.

“Come on! I’m just joking, okay? Let loose, you are so tensed.”

“If you kept your promise I wouldn’t be so tensed,” you mumble under your breath turning away from him, but he moves to get in your sight once again, leaning against the wall.

“Alright, I’m sorry. But I didn’t tell anyone, I swear.”

“Better keep that way.”

“Have you watched the rest of the film?”

“No, Adam. I told you I don’t want to,” you sigh, but it’s not really the truth. You do have curiosity about the rest, you just don’t know if you’d be able to handle it.

“Okay, alright. Sorry for bugging you. Though I’m curious what you’d say about the whole thing, like cinematically.”

“I’ll let you know when I choose to watch it and have an opinion,” you force a smile to yourself before walking away or more like escaping from the conversation.

Rehearsal ends an hour later and you have to do the lift three more times, having Adam stare into your soul every time you are above him, but you don’t think about the film anymore. Instead, it’s all about what he is thinking about. The thought of being on top of him in the back of a limo poisons your mind and no matter how hard you are trying to let go of it, you fail every time because there is that tiny smile playing on his lips and it’s making you lose your shit immediately.

You manage to leave without running into him once the rehearsal is over. It’s a huge wave of relief once you finally arrive home and you also feel like you could collapse right into bed from being so tired. After a relaxing shower you climb to bed and take your computer just checking up on your usual things. Right until you find yourself in your browser’s history, the cursor lingering above the link to Adam’s film.

“I’m losing my mind,” you whisper to yourself opening it and the film starts on your screen once again.

-

general/forever taglist for Adam Driver

i do separate taglists for different people, but not for different works of mine! if you ask to be on my Adam taglist, you’ll be tagged in all of my Adam fics!

@superdriver​ @siren-queen03​ @holacherrycola90​ @spencer-is-amazing​ @unusual-kindred-spirits @hailthemightywoecloud @holy-kylo-stars​ @kowalskibro-adamdriverblog​ @hurricanesunset​ @writerandee​ @luxury-0pps​ @prncess91​ @malefoygal @zaahidahhh @filternotincluded @fire-in-her-veinz @emily-strange @ktellmeastory​ @grouchosgirl​ @tapismyforte​ @unusual-driver-paterson​ @beeblisss​ @septicvic97​

if you’d like to be taken off or added to the list, please let me know!

[fluidityandgiggles]

Dalton Big Bang day 1 - The Canadian Girlfriend Experience

Writing Masterpost, AO3 Link

Notes: So... y’all. Dalton fam. Hear me out.

I understand that y'all are gonna be mad at me for staying up until (four? five?) five in the morning to post this, but I'm something like 90% sure I'd forget to post it in the morning (afternoon), and I have to write tomorrow's fic anyway, so... here's an extra early fluffy mess. Hope y'all like it.

I had to write this one... I really really had to. Han's girlfriend is a big deal to me. I hope you understand it.

(And for the uninitiated in pathfinder - the rank system is wild, feats are taken every two levels or so, Logan’s character is basically invincible, defeated only by Dwight’s monk and the absolute insanity that creating a monk in pathfinder can end up being.)

—————

"I really have to go to sleep," the familiar (by now) high-pitched voice said through the headphones, stifling a yawn. "My drama class is moving props to the auditorium tomorrow for our exam and my mom would be mad at me if I don’t go to sleep in the next thirty minutes."

"So go to sleep, Lils. I won’t be mad at you."

"Okay! I’ll text you in the morning! Love you, bye!"

"Good night."

Han finally let himself snort a bit after his girlfriend hung up, watching as she disconnects from the game a few moments later. He did say he’ll only play Starcraft today so long as Leah is available, and now that she’s offline…

He just closed the game and went back to working on his Pathfinder session prep.

Han met Leah at the San Diego Comic-Con last summer. On day one, she approached him because she thought the Westwoods’ Bat family cosplay was really cool. On day two, he approached her because her Arwen cosplay was flawless. By day three they’d already ditched the con to have a not-date lunch at In-N-Out, found out they’re in the same guild in World of Warcraft, Han found out Leah has a voice acting channel on youtube, they exchanged phone numbers, and by day four they may have not spent the whole day together but they certainly went on a date-date at the end of the day.

They’ve been rather inseparable for the following three weeks, but by then Han had to face the reality of it all. Leah’s phone number was weird to him from the start, sure, and he was willing to pass off her accent as a speech quirk, but it wasn’t until those three weeks ended that it finally sunk in that she’s not American. And like most good things, her visit too has to come to an end.

Maintaining a relationship online just… didn’t feel the same.

1 Unread Message

‘Merril: Can I suggest an idea for Mishka’s character arc?? You can say no, I just had an idea is all!’

Caterpillar: I’m all ears

———

"While this mess of a… bargain is happening," Logan called as Merril and Reed tried to catch their breaths from laughing. "Can Dwight and I get to the diplomatic debate?"

"Sure," Han sighed, watching his party quickly derail the session. "But let’s take a break first."

The first to disappear at the sound of "let’s take a break" was Lucy, who ran to the bathroom, accidentally knocking off Logan’s dice tower in the process. Merril got the brownies out and on the table, everyone pulled their phones out…

Han could take a couple moments to look at the pictures Leah sent him earlier. According to her, they were not yet done with lighting cues, and she was going crazy, but seeing her in her period piece of a costume and leg brace prop made him feel excited for her, somewhat.

Caterpillar: wish I could been there to see it 

Jabba the Hutt: Oh no! Don’t say that! Jabba the Hutt: I’ll send you the filmed version when I get it, but it’ll probably be really bad anyway.

Caterpillar: im sure it cant be that bad 

Jabba the Hutt: Han, it’s a high school production of the Glass Menagerie. Jabba the Hutt: My class is also doing the play version of Spring Awakening. Jabba the Hutt: It *can* and *will* be that bad. Jabba the Hutt: Trust me. 

"Han?" Merril called before he could answer that one. "Hansel, are you listening?"

"No, I wasn’t. What was it?" He grabbed a brownie, leaving his phone aside for a second.

"Wizards of the Coast announced a new edition of D&D," she said again, smiling gently. "Do you think you’d want to try it?"

"I’m already one step ahead of you there. I’m going to playtest it when it— excuse me…"

Jabba the Hutt: WE FINALLY FUCKING FINISHED THIS Jabba the Hutt: I’ve never been happier to say I’m getting offstage, I need someone to punch me!

Caterpillar: dont you mean pinch?

Jabba the Hutt: I meant what I said and I said what I meant.

Han tuned back in time to hear Logan say "I just really don’t want to have to mess with the power system again", which resulted in Dwight throwing a bag of chips at his head.

"Fourth edition has a very special place in my heart, Wright. Don’t talk shit about it around me."

"Yeah, why all the hate for the power system?" Lucy frowned (when did she get back from the bathroom?). "It’s not all that different to how feats work. Would you complain about getting a new feat every odd level once we switch systems?"

"Not going to happen, Lucy."

"Aw man, but I wanted to play Vampire the Masquerade next!"

"And we already said Merril is going to run it," Han reminded her, checking his phone one last time. "But we’re not switching our current game to another system. Not gonna happen."

There was a quiet "hell yeah" from Merril as Han’s phone buzzed with a new message, but before he could even read it, it was snatched by Lucy.

"Wha… who are you talking to, Han?" She laughed a bit, scrolling up, and then her eyes went wide open. "Well… damn."

"Don’t act like you’re surprised, that’s my girlfriend. You met her before."

The silence in the room was so tense, Han swore he could hear a pin drop. 

"...a girlfriend?" Dwight was the first to ask, raising a brow. "Since when?"

"You know, I honestly thought she would’ve forgotten all about you after two weeks…"

"Since a few months ago," Han told Dwight, taking his phone back. "Can we continue, please?"

"No! It’s interesting!" Merril joined in, resting her chin on her hand as she got closer, pushing some papers a bit. "How did you meet? Where is she from? Can we meet her?"

"We met at Comic-Con and no, you can’t meet her. She’s… not from here."

"...is she Canadian?" Logan raised a brow too, starting to laugh.

"Noooooooo…?"

"Oh yeah, Han’s Canadian girlfriend."

"She’s not— let’s start to fucking play, this session isn’t going to end itself."

By the end of the session, Han couldn’t say he’d be surprised if the whole school found out by tomorrow. And if anyone (namely the twins) made fun of him for his "Canadian girlfriend"... so be it. 

———

"Is this Canadian girlfriend of yours coming to prom?" Julian’s tired voice came through the phone, sounding like he was about to pass out. He just arrived at school earlier today, already tired from the flight, and immediately got coddled by Logan.

"She’s not Canadian, Julian. You’re the twenty-fifth person I’ve told this already."

"So where is she from? Would you please tell just one person?"

With a quick glance at the security footage, to make sure Logan wasn’t listening, Han whispered "her name is Leah, I met her at Comic-Con in San Diego last year, she’s from Israel and no, I doubt she can come to prom. She has her own prom to attend."

"...okay, so this Israeli girlfriend of yours. Got it."

"Thank you."

"Are you sure you want to keep her a secret…?" He clicked his tongue. His laugh sounded a bit rougher than usual. "You know how things can end up. You of all people."

"I… I’m just not sure I’m ready for… dude. Is Logan drooling on your shoulder…?"

"Give him a break, Westwood. He’s adjusting to his new pills."

"I asked about the drooling."

"He does that sometimes. I just let him be."

"...why is everyone so interested in my girlfriend? Is it really any different from David and Katherine?"

"I don’t know how to break it down to you, Westwood, but you’re not exactly the type anyone would expect to even have a girlfriend."

A shift in the camera footage made Han cuss silently, covering his microphone.

"...she said she’ll be here for graduation. Hers is in late June, but she finishes school in May."

"Yeah. May. When prom is."

"Do you want to talk to her yourself?" He could hear Julian snort. "I’m not kidding. I’ll give you Leah’s phone number and you’ll convince her yourself. I can’t."

"Because that totally won’t be crazy."

"Julian."

"Hansel."

"Just fucking ask her, you absolute nerd!"

"Can you stop ordering me around? This isn’t Hollywood. This is my girlfriend we’re talking about."

"Can you at least send me a picture of her? So I’ll know she’s real?"

"...fuck you, Larson."

Han sent him a picture anyway. A picture of the two of them that Lucy insisted to take while they were in San Diego. They coordinated somehow, Han with his LOTR shirt and Leah with her whole Arwen cosplay. It was the happiest day he could possibly remember.

And then, a snort through the phone.

"...so you’re Leah Appelbaum’s mysterious Maryland boyfriend? Huh. Didn’t know you lived in Maryland."

"...you know Leah?"

"We had auditions in the same building two years ago and she approached me because she’s a fan of Something Damaged. She insisted on keeping in touch. How did you meet her?"

"At Comic-Con… please be gentle about this, Julian."

"Okay! I just… wow. I know where you live now. Sweet."

"Don’t you dare try to blackmail me with that information, Larson."

"I won’t. There’s nothing to worry about."

———

"...you know what?" Han sighed as the last session before prom was about to close off. "Roll sense motive."

The clatter of dice hitting each other and everyone cussing filled the room, quickly picking up their dice and looking.

"Fifteen!"

"Seventeen!"

"Five!"

"How’s you get a five, Lucy?"

"I’m a barbarian, what do you think—"

"Thirty-four."

Dwight practically glared at Logan. "What the fuck, dude?"

"I play a half-elf cleric, Dwight," Logan answered, straight-faced. "Plus two to wisdom straight away, rolled extremely well, I have a plus five modifier to wisdom and the alertness feat. I took a single rank in sense motive every time we leveled up and now I have ten ranks. On the tenth rank in sense motive or perception, you get a bonus four to the skill instead of the usual two. Thus, ten plus four plus five equals nineteen, plus the fifteen that I rolled. That’s thirty-four. Do I sense motive?"

"...everyone who rolled above a fifteen, and that definitely includes Flint—" Han could see Logan smiling smugly. "Everyone who rolled above a fifteen can see that this woman is telling the truth. Anyone who rolled a twenty or above, Flint, can also sense that—"

There was a knock at the door. There was never a knock at the door. But now there was. And as Reed got up to open the door, Han silently hoped it wouldn’t be anyone who shouldn’t be there—

"And this is your boyfriend’s room," Julian’s voice came through as Reed’s jaw dropped. "Thank you for picking Julian Larson to be your tour guide, we hope you enjoyed the trip."

"Very! Oh, hello!" The girl at the door waved at Reed, who waved back. The whole party waved back. "Am I interrupting anything?"

"No, those nerds are just playing dungeons and dragons. You have nothing to worry about." Reed finally returned to his seat as Julian kissed the girl’s cheek, chuckling at the shock. "Logan, I’ll be expecting you to pick me up at six. I want my pre-prom sushi."

"I promised you I will, Princess, don’t panic."

"Okay, just making sure."

As Julian left, the girl went to sit on Han’s futon and look at everyone. Long brown hair, half of it bleached; dark eyes behind a pair of green plastic-framed glasses; a bit on the heavier side, like Han himself, and wearing a floral summer dress and a pair of short leggings. Her face was flushed red, her lipstick a dark blue, and her nails painted black that just started to chip.

Han missed her so much.

"So… hi." She waved around again, a bit confused. "What’s up…?"

"Who’s this?" Dwight was the first to speak.

"My girlfriend," Han replied, sounding rather insistent. "We were just about to finish our session, Lils. Can you wait?"

"Mmhm! Absolutely! I’ll be so quiet, you’ll forget I’m even here!"

Nobody forgot she was there. Merril kept looking over to her, Reed and Dwight seemed skeptical as ever, and the only person who was normal about it was Lucy. But it wasn’t news for Lucy, she’s met Leah before after all. All the while Leah sat there, chuckling at the game and waiting patiently for Han to finish, which he did twenty minutes later. Dwight practically ran out, followed by Logan who needed to pick his own boyfriend up for dinner, but…

"So where are you from in Canada?" Merril asked first, making Leah smile. 

"I’m… not Canadian. Did Han tell you I’m Canadian?"

"Where’s your lipstick from?" Reed asked next.

"Umm… it’s, it’s from NARS, I picked it up on the way here, I forgot to pack my own makeup and—"

"Is Han taking you to prom?"

Han choked on his water at that. "I can’t leave my room for prom, Merril. Health risks."

"You can have an indoors prom."

"We planned on watching Battlestar Galactica and ordering takeout," Leah admitted. "But… an indoors prom would be nice. I’m not going to mine anyway. My class is writing this… really offensive skit about one of the math teachers and I don’t want to be a part of it."

"What’s your prom even like…?" Reed squinted, sitting back down. "That you do skits."

"It’s… not really a prom. Israel doesn’t really have the promenade culture, it’s just like a showcase the whole class does for family and friends before graduation… I’ve never liked this practice, you know, I think it’s just…"

As Leah rambled on, Han took his time to clear the table and silently hope Merril and Reed leave soon. Those two have prom dates after all. And neither are a Canadian girlfriend.

[marveling-chrisevans]

What If - Walk of shame

What If - Walk of Shame 

Chris Evans x OFC

Chapter six - 1932 words

Part One | Part Two | Part three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six 

Warnings: uh swearing maybe? 

Summary: What if. What if you out of the blue and on an impulse applied for a contest, and what if you won that. What if you met someone who didn’t know you existed, and what if you asked them for a drink after.  What if this impulse changed your entire life.  ** note I didn’t win so I don’t know how all this would go down but this would be how I would have loved it to happen.. the first chapter completely happened.. the texts might not be the same. But it happened**  

 Tag List: @smoothdogsgirl​ @torntaltos​ @patzammit​ – If you wanna be tagged just make a comment below and I am happy to do that or just DM me, whichever

This story is fully caught up and posted on AO3 and Wat pad. I am going to be combining chapters to catch Tumblr up. but if you would like to read everything right now then go ahead. Also please 

https://www.wattpad.com/story/184900452-what-if

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18506152/chapters/43856086

Faith woke up in a daze, she was laying on her side as she slowly opened her eyes to the sun streaming into the room. She saw the view of Hollywood from the hills, She was confused at where she was. The last thing that she remembers was that she was in a car on the way back to the hotel, then everything went kinda blurry. She looked around the room, and smelled food. She was extremely hung over and wanted some food.

She got up and wrapped the sheet around herself cause she didn’t have any clothes, and couldn’t find her dress, that she wore last night. She got up, walked toward the door that was closed and then walked out into the open lay out of the room. You could see the living room to the kitchen, seeing Chris was standing behind the island of the kitchen talking to what looked like his sister and his mother. She quickly backtracked into the room.

She didn’t escape unseen. Dodger jumped up and barked slightly as soon as she disappeared behind the door. She pushed it closed but didn’t get it all the way there as dodger pushed it all the way open. Faith Grabbed her phone and escaped onto the on suite bathroom and found her way into the tub..

Faith looked at her for the first time in most likely 12 hours, and saw that she had like 9 missed calls and texts from rose, and one from her brother. She slide into the tub as dodger jumped up to join her in there and started licking her face which made her laugh “hi puppy, can you stop?” She wondered as she called rose..

Rose answered the phone “Well fuck thank god your not dead, where the hell are you! Ive been worried sick!”

Faith laughed slightly “currently in a bathtub, with a dog, dodger actually in Chris’s Bathroom.. uh naked.. we had sex last night. Apprently, I mean I remember most of the night but then it gets fuzzy..”

Rose gasped on the other end of the phone “how was it, I want to know everything don’t leave out a single thing, oh my god.. I knew it.. MY SHIP IS ALIVE”

Faith pulled the phone from her head “hungover” she angry whispered in the phone “and I don’t remember much of it. Like I said fuzzy, but I can tell you it was the best sex I’ve ever had.. Oh god I hope he used a condom” she said back into the phone

“i did” Chris replied with a smile on his face. Faith looked up to where the voice came from “it was really good for me too”

“i gotta go rose I uh, gotta go uh ill be back in a little bit” Faith said and hung up the phone sliding further into the bathtub to hid which made dodger thing that it was okay to start kiss attacking her again.

“Dodger out” Chris said as dodger then stopped and put his head on the side of the tub looking at the owner “Glad to see you are awake.. I put your clothes on the bed, I washed them this morning. Also there is some coffee in there, I have to go do something with the avengers. I also put my number in your phone. Take as much time as you need, shower do whatever my family just left to go to the beach so you are the only one here” he replied to her

“and where is here so I can uh summon an taxi” She asked looking up at him trying not to make this all awkward more than it already was. Because its be honest it was really awkward for her “also just so you know I didn’t mean for this to happen.. I got way to drunk and I don’t do this, and oh my god did I say, ‘im feeling it now mr. Krabs?” She wondered looking at him

He nodded and laughed slightly “you did and Faith its alright, you are an amazing girl, and like I said last night id love to get to know you more.” He said “i gotta go but can I see you before you leave tomorrow?”

Faith answered her phone as it rang “yes this is Faith Young, Wait what? Are you serious yeah I can be there for an interview tomorrow morning” She smiled “yeah also that would be cool have always wanted to attend one, yeah two tickets. Thanks” she said back to the person and then looked at him and bite her lip as she pulled herself out of the tub making sure the towel was wrapped around herself “uh I guess not, I have an interview tomorrow, for my dream job non the less. So uh maybe? If its later today” you replied “but maybe not? I don’t know” She smiled “maybe we will just have to leave at it as what it is. A winners trip to Meet Chris Evans at the Premier of EndGame” Faith said back to him as he nodded

“I hope that isn’t the case, I have a feeling we will run into each other again” Chris replied as he walked over to her and kissed her one last time before he left the house

Faith closed her eyes when Chris kissed her and wished It would have lasted a little longer. The linger feeling of his pillow soft lips against hers. She stood there a while longer with her eyes closed wishing he never left. She heard the door close and dodger come back in and looked at her.

Faith got up from hiding in the tub, and went out and found her dress. Like he said it was laying on the bed. She wasn’t about wearing that home for the walk of shame. She went and showered in his shower, then raided his dresser and found a basic t shirt and just some smaller looking sized sweatpants.

She then called herself an Lyft. Headed back to the hotel she couldn’t believe that she just slept with her celebrity crush. The one guy who would have been on her exception list when she got married. She took a deep breath as she waited on the street for her ride. She had managed to get out of the house without running into his family. She thanked whoever was listening for that.

On the drive back to the hotel she made basic small talk talk with the driver. Once getting to the hotel she thanked the man and Gave him a cash tip as she had some from the night before, knowing that these drives prefer that over the tip in the app so they can use it right way.

Riding the elevator and going into the room felt so basic compared to her last 12 hours. She came in the room and flopped down on the bed next to Rose.

Rose sat up from where she was on her phone in her bed and looked at Faith “So are you going to spill the tea or are you just going to walk of shame?” She wondered looking at her friend “also are you in Chris’s clothes, because we could get serious money off of those

“Rose I swear if you keep yelling or talking loud or whatever I am going to punch you in the face. Also its not a walk of shame if you're not ashamed it happened?” She questioned back before she kept talking “Also we are not going home tonight, You know that job I told you applied for about a month ago for my jobs tv program, to be a project manager, well apparently I got accepted and They want me to go there for the keynote program tomorrow to show me off or something, give a presentation. I am not sure as I stopped listening when I heard I got the job.” she said back to her with putting her face into the bed sighing heavily ignoring the last comment about eBay comment.

“it can still be a walk of shame..” Rose countered back

Faith got up and walked over to her suitcase shaking her head, “remind me when we finally get home to look at my Lyft pick up history to send these back” She said to rose knowing she wouldn’t remember because she was going go from one project to another and just throw everything in the laundry

Rose smirked “ not gonna do that, but before we hop on another plane I do wanna go to this event at the Chinese theater I heard about, also the walk of fame is over there.” Rose replied knowing what she was asking and what was going on. Faith listened to her talk as she flung on some leggings and a flowing crop top that just showed a little of the top of her midriff. Running a brush through her hair. “okay fine let me take something for this headache and along s we stop at a coffee place I don’t care” Faith replied fixing her make up touching it up and throwing on a pair of sunglasses grabbing her bag “lets go”

The two walked out of the hotel stopping at the first coffee shop for Faith, then finished there walk to the walk of fame. Looking at the stars, stopping for the ones they loved posing and stopping at a few stars as they go. They were across the street from the Chinese theater as faith looked at it confused “what did you say was going on here?” Staring at the arch with the original six in it “Rose if this is an avengers event I don’t wanna be here, I embarrassed myself and then slept with one of the stars.. uh no”

The announcer started to announce the actors as they came out one by one and the producers. Faith of course started to try and hide behind the Camera people and taking a few steps back to be more blended into the crowd

Rose smirked “oh its not like he is going to see you standing in the crowd” she replied back as She went back to cheering as they came out. Faith kinda just tired to blend in and not bring attention to herself. Making sure her sunglasses were firmly in place. Faith hid the best she could till he looked out in the crowd. Even tho the both of them were wearing sunglasses, your eyes connected. You quickly turned your head to look at something else. She could feel his eyes linger at her.

Chris lingered his eye on her, it was the same girl he was with last night. He knew that hair and those lips anywhere. He felt it in his soul. Someone said his name which caught his attempting which made him loose her in the crowd. That could have been because she quickly went and hid behind the building.

Faith took a deep breath as it felt like her heart was in her throat she didn’t know what to do. She went and sat down on the bench that was near by and texted rose her location, and waited for her to come to her. After the ceremony, Rose Found faith and they did the rest of the things tourists do when they are in LA, before going back to the hotel getting their stuff and flying on the plane to the next location in California, this time for Faiths job.

[artificialqueens]

Notebooks & Post-it's - Chapter 14 - (Branjie) - Thankyoumissvanjie

A/N: Soooo… Here’s my take on Amsterdam. Enjoy.

Summary:

It all went from bad to worse in Amsterdam.

LINK TO AO3

It all went from bad to worse in Amsterdam.

Or maybe if Brock was being fair, it had begun the descent into bad in Belfast, worsened in Oslo, only to come to a horrible conclusion in Amsterdam.

After the drunken conversation in the hallway, they had both seemed to agree that they would leave each other alone unless they were on stage.

Save it for the fans.

Give them the show they had paid for.

It tore at his heart, but Brock kept on dealing with the jokes and touches. He found himself standing in the wings glancing at Vanjie performing her ass off, trying to reconcile himself to the fact that he would never get to be her proud boyfriend again.

The drinking seemed to get out of hand. He needed more alcohol to get through the shows. The tequila seemingly always in an endless supply wherever they came.

He wrote and wrote in the notebook.

I wish you would look at me. Even just to get mad. Just something. But you don’t. I am invisible to you unless we are on the stage. You only care for Brooke Lynn. Too bad it’s Brock that’s in love you with you.

And wrote.

It’s funny how the thing that scared me so much the last time is the one thing I crave. I want the commitment. I want you to be mine and only mine. I want you to stake your claim. I don’t want anybody else. Fuck that. I want you.

And wrote.

I love you. I don’t think that’s ever going to go away.

The blank pages were filled up with love declarations that were never uttered. The pages a silent testament to the turmoil wrecking havoc inside of Brock.

________________________________________________________________________

The energy during the Belfast gig had been weird. The excitement of it being the last show in the UK coupled with an amazing crowd and high energy seemed to do something to all of them. They were leaving for Oslo tomorrow, but tonight they would party and have fun. There was this end of school year feel.

They all took longer to de-drag. Brock being the last one out for some reason.

And that was when he saw it.

Stuck to his foundation.

A post-it.

He slowly peeled it off, his hand shaking, excited and scared at the same time.

He wanted it to be an invitation, while he also dreading it.

209. Please - V

Brock had never packed his stuff that quickly, as he did after reading that, almost running out of the dressing room, needing to see José now. Scared what was wrong, hopeful that maybe he wanted to give them a chance.

_______________________

José didn’t know why he had said no to Brock. He was drunk, in fact, they had both been out of it, not knowing what they were saying or doing.

He didn’t want to make one more drunken mistake. Not with Brock.

But ignoring him after having been so close with him for weeks was odd. It was as if they were doing a publicity stunt.

It felt dirty.

It felt wrong.

José was in love with Brock. Had been for over a year, and having to play that up in front of the fans hurt.

Seeing Brock turn paler and thinner. Not eating, but drinking more than usual, hurt.

It all hurt.

He missed him.

He wanted to take care of him.

But José had been an idiot and closed the door that Brock seemed to have opened just an inch.

Yet, closed doors had never really seemed to be a hindrance for him.

Which was why he had left that post-it. Hoping that Brock would show up, knowing that he probably wouldn’t.

But hoping oh so much.

The rest of the queens had gone straight from the venue to the club, but José had simply shaken his head at them, knowing that he looked tired enough to not get any shit from them.

If Nina has sent him a worried look, he decided to not react.

He couldn’t.

Getting into an Uber, and arriving at the hotel all seemed to pass by in a blur. It wasn’t until he closed the door to his room behind him that he realised how tired he was. Both his body and mind. The toll of drag and being an idiot with his emotions was draining. He dropped his bags on the floor, taking two steps over to the bed and simply face planting onto it.

Maybe he should just sleep, then he wouldn’t be awake to feel the disappointment of Brock never showing up.

“You a messy hoe, Miss Vanjie!” José’s words were muffled by the duvet as he stubbornly refused to turn around. Too tired, and too emotionally stressed to do anything.

The tentative knocking at the door, however, did the trick. Making him almost jump up from the bed and run to the door.

“Be cool, be cool. Make ‘im sweat, mama,” he whispered to himself as he tried to count to ten slowly, “two, three, ten… fuck it,” opening the door he came face to face - more like face to shoulder - with Brock.

“Well, you be looking like hell fried over, Boo,” José was being kind. Brock looked like shit. The bags under his eyes were a deep purple. His skin pale and shallow. His hair was a mess, and that stupid red hoodie seemed looser than usual.

He was wasting away in front of him.

“You don’t look too good either, Papi,” The endearment made the ever-present butterflies of affection flutter in José’s stomach. Over a year after they first started this thing and he was still so very in love him.

For a moment they both just stared at each other. Their eyes trying to morse code the words their mouths were too afraid to utter.

But then José looked away, the earnestness in Brock’s eyes making him scared, as he didn’t know what it meant. His pulse seemed to quicken at the possibility of Brock seeing him as more than a good fuck, but he knew that was too much to ask for.

Walking back to the bed he sat down on it, expecting Brock to simply follow, smiling when he heard the soft click of the door closing, followed by it being locked. He felt tired in his bones. The tour, this stupid-ass thing with Brock and just… everything.

Maybe it was the fact that they only had three shows left, that made the tiredness set in. Perhaps it was because he knew only had three more shows left with him. Before Brock left for other venues and tours.

Three shows left to finally tell him how he felt.

“So…” Brock was standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, looking expectantly at him.

“You wanna fuck?” José knew that he probably looked pathetic in his shorts and tank-top, hair all ruffled, face washed and make-up free. He could feel the exhaustion in his body, and all he wanted to do was sleep, but Brock was here.

José wanted him to stay, no. He needed him to. Needed his touch, his comfort and warmth. José knew that he was difficult to deal with on a day-to-day basis, knew in the depth of his soul that the reason they hadn’t worked out had nothing to do with Brock’s need for freedom, but rather everything to do with José’s brand of craziness being too draining.

Brock might have loved him, but that didn’t mean he necessarily liked him all that much.

Yet, no matter what, they had always had that sexual connection. The way that touching each other was a craving, a drug that none of them seemed to be able to quit.

If sex was involved, Brock would stay.

It was the one thing, that José always knew to be true.

Brock’s startled laugh broke through the sleepy fog of his mind, instantly making him scowl.

“What you laughin’ ‘bout, bitch?” Typical Brock, to just laugh at him when he was prepositioning him. It made him feel like an idiot. As if the idea of sleeping with him was a joke.

As if being with him was a fucking joke.

“Papi, you look like you’re gonna fall asleep any minute now. I’m not into the somnophilia scene. So no, I don’t want to fuck,” Brock had walked over to him and slowly pulled him up from the bed. José subconsciously following him. Not even realising what was happening.

His limbs were heavy and his protests about sleeping instead of fucking were lodged deep in his throat.

The way Brock was gently guiding him. His hands soft and warm as they pushed against his lower back, made him weak in the knees.

It made him feel cared for.

It made him feel loved.

“Fuck you! I be like the pizza man, boo. Always delivering” There was no conviction behind his words, as Brock got him to lie down on the bed, José’s eyes following his every move as he covered him with the duvet.

Brock was softly kneeling on the floor next to the bed, his fingers carding through his hair, almost making him purr with content.

“I’m sure. All you will be delivering tonight is some well-earned sleep, babe,” Brock’s face contorted into something slightly sad, but overwhelmingly warm. It made José think of the nights they had right before they broke up. The way that Brock had been extra attentive, while also being slightly withdrawn.

“You ain’t knowing nothing, I might be pulling an all-nighter, hoe!” José knew he was being a child. Knew that he was tired and just needed to sleep.

But he missed being held.

He just fucking missed Brock.

“Uh-uh. It’s time to sleep now, though,” Brock’s voice was soft and warm like a lullaby, the tenor of it reminded him of Sunday mornings in bed and late-night facetime calls. He leaned down and kissed his forehead, lingering for a minute.

And then he got up from the floor, knees cracking, huffing tiredly and made his way to the door.

“Stay,” José’s whisper didn’t stop Brock from walking away, which was why he added a small, “please.”

He knew that he sounded pathetic, but he didn’t care. The idea of spending the night alone with his thoughts and exhaustion was too much to bear.

He just wanted Brock.

As Brock reached the door, José felt the weight on his chest grow heavier, his eyes swimming with unshed tears. A single thought went through his mind.

He’s leaving. For good.

Then the room went dark. The small click of the light switch the purest sound José had ever heard.

The weight on his chest magically disappeared, while he felt like he was going to cry from the sheer relief of not spending the night alone.

He could vaguely hear Brock undress, the sound of a zipper and clothes hitting the floor, each sound managing to slowly repair every phantom crack in his heart.

The bed dipped under Brock’s weight, and suddenly José found himself wrapped in those strong and muscular arms. The secure harbour of them settling him instantly.

This was home.

He gave a satisfied grunt and shuffled closer, burying his nose in Brock’s neck, savouring the scent of his cologne mixed with sweat. It was so quintessential him.

“Sleep tight, Big Guy,” the words were whispered against his forehead.  

“You too, Toes,”

And with that he fell into a peaceful slumber that he hadn’t even known he had needed.

_____________________

Brock hadn’t slept a wink. His body stiff from having held José the whole night, his head fussy with sleep deprivation, while his mind went in circles.

What did this mean?

It felt different. Everything about José last night had been softer, quieter and more emotional.

Brock had in the middle of the night dared to whisper a soft “I love you”, knowing that it was drowned out by José’s small snores.

He had to tell him.

Holding José in his arms had been amazing.

Had been painful.

Had been insanely confusing.

For a night it had felt like they were back together as if nothing had happened. Yet, the moment José woke up, Brock knew that the jig was up. He had tensed in his arms and seemed in a rush to get him out of the room.

Brock knew when he was unwanted, quickly making his excuses and left.

José’s standoffishness followed them to Oslo, everyone except Brock cranky over the fact that there had been a massive delay in the airport, meaning that they wouldn’t have any time to enjoy the city before having to get into drag.

Brock hadn’t complained as it had given him a chance to finally sleep. His body was aching. The alcohol, the emotional turmoil and just being on tour all taking a huge toll on him.

Maybe that was why he hadn’t taken any notice of how withdrawn José was before the show began. Brock was so in his head trying to find the energy to be Brooke Lynn for the night, that he didn’t notice anything or anyone else.

He did, however, become painfully aware of, once on the stage, how Vanjie didn’t interact with her. How she kept to herself, joking instead with Monique or Meatball. There was no hug for the fans, no mentioning of Brooke in Miss Vanjie’s long spiels of bullshit after her numbers.

Fuck.

Instead, Brooke twirled on stage with Nina, trying to swallow the disappointment of it not being Vanjie.

At the Meet & Greet after the show, she smiled at everyone, but her heart was breaking every time she glanced over at Vanjie, noticing how she never even acknowledged Brock’s presence.

Shit.

The other’s talked about going drinking, but Brock knew he couldn’t handle it. So he left them all going back to the hotel, trying not to think too hard about the absence of a post-it, nor the worried looks Nina kept sending him.

Sitting on his bed, in his darkened room, he tried not to think too much about how much he was fucking everything up.

He still remembered how José had felt in his arms. If he thought hard enough he could almost imagine it right there in his empty hotel room.

If a tear a two fell down his face it didn’t matter. It wasn’t as if anyone was there to see his fast track towards rock bottom anyway.

____________

Was that the last time? Am I too late? Have my waiting and hesitation ruined it all? I know I set myself up to fail, I mean fucking the ex you are still in love with doesn’t seem like a stellar plan in any fucking type of universe. Maybe you infected me with your love of romantic movies. Maybe I thought that this could be some shitty Nicholas Sparks book were we do end up together in the last chapter. Guess that makes me the fool.

______________

And then Amsterdam happened.

They had been up early, catching an early plane to ensure that they would have a full day in the city since it was pride.

Brock had barely slept in Oslo. His mind going over every possible wrong turn he had taken with José that had brought him to this particular point. A point where José wouldn’t even look at him.

Nina was a blessing. Giving him hugs, trying to make him smile, ensuring that he ate.

It was Nina that got them invited to some big party, bringing Meatball along for the ride. It was Nina that made sure they met Bianca.

Nina was the best of friends the whole day. Not giving him a single side-eye at all the alcohol he was drinking. Just being that steady presence that he needed, while Bianca spent the day reading him to filth.

“Well you look like a real reigning,” hiding behind big sunglasses, mouth pursed and voice drier than a good martini, Bianca was her usual bitchy self.

“Uhuh, and how’s that?” If it had been anyone else, Brock would’ve felt called out and maybe a bit anxious, but having known her for years, he took it for what it was.

Bianca being worried.

“Like you’re close to dying. Jesus, you look like shit,” Despite her rough deadpan voice, Brock could still hear the small thread of concern, which made him smile softly.

“I still look better than you,” Which was true.

But only barely.

“Debatable,” the way the Bianca looked over her sunglasses for a second, as the hard front she always put up softened made Brock feel warm.

The way his friends all tried to care for him and make him feel better was so heartwarming.

They all succeeded in making him feel better. Slowly pulling him out of his José-induced funk, though it was difficult to know if it was Nina, Pride or tequila.

Probably a mix.

All Brock knew was that he was dancing, without a single care in the world. The baking sun managing to thaw up his otherwise cold and broken heart. The alcohol in his blood made him brave and he knew what he had to do.

He had to tell him.

Now.

He was drunk enough to not care about the outcome, but not drunk enough to make it a bad idea.

He had to tell him.

It only took a few texts and some stalking of stories on Instagram to figure out where José was. Dragging Meatball and Nina with him hadn’t been difficult, all of them ready to party with all their sisters.

He had seen José’s stories, seen how good he looked with that ridiculous thigh-strap fanny-pack.

He loved him, and he wanted him… And fuck it, he was going to say it to him.

His eagerness at seeing José meant that everything else seemed to fade away. The details of how they went from one club to another hazy and blurred.

He couldn’t remember what they had talked about on the way, nor if they had met up with some of the queens before entering the club.

His mind was so focused on what he wanted - no needed - to say, that he didn’t even register the loud music or the fact that it was making the walls and floor vibrate.

Didn’t notice all the people that stumbled into him, as he tried to navigate his way to the bar, hoping that it would give him a better view of the place, so he had a higher chance of locating José.

He was so absorbed in this task that his mind didn’t fully register what he was seeing right before him, as he finally reached the bar.

It was as if everything had slowed down, his heart skipping multiple beats as his eyes and brain seemed to finally connect thoughts and visuals into a scene taken straight from Brock’s worst nightmare.

The bass and the dancing masses kept on moving and grinding, not caring that Brock’s heart had just shattered into a million pieces, a sob stuck somewhere in his throat.

There in the corner of the bar stood José. His back to Brock as he was kissing someone. Though kissing was perhaps too mild a description, as it looked like they were two seconds away from jumping each other right then and there.

He was too late.

With that one thought going on repeat, Brock backed away, leaving his broken heart on the floor as he fled the club.

He. Was. Too. Late.

[the-sanders-sides]

Stereotypical High School Movie AU

Previous || Chapter 21 || ao3 

in case links aren’t working: previous - https://the-sanders-sides.tumblr.com/post/182230055491/stereotypical-high-school-movie-au  and ao3 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/10574736/chapters/41405801

summary: Virgil was the emo kid with a history with the school’s most popular clique. Logan was, for lack of a better word, a nerd, and Virgil’s best friend. Roman, however, remains a mystery within his allegiances: friend or foe, bully or genuine? And Patton’s their loving teacher, providing each one of his kids with the advice they need to face the biggest challenge of their life so far: high school. (endgame prinxiety)

chapter warnings/possible triggers: threats, anxiety attacks, bad relationship with parents

Ah, another weekend. The sun was shining on a beautiful Florida park, and sat there on the swing set at two in the afternoon was none other than the sides: Logan, Virgil, and Roman.

“Anx, how are you not overheating right now?” Logan remarked, leaning against the pole of the swing set, while Virgil and Roman took up the two swings.

“Nah, I'm used to the heat. My sweater is like my second skin now,” Virgil joked, swinging slowly.

“Oh my gosh! Both of you phrased that so, terribly wrong that it's impossible to make a jokingly flirty comment!” Roman exclaimed as he swung high enough to be almost at a right a angle with the swing set. Virgil shook his head.

“What, you wanted me to say ‘it’s hot’ so you could say ‘that’s ‘cause I'm here’?” Virgil snarled.

“As a matter of fact, that's not what I was going to say,” Roman replied and stuck out his tongue at Virgil. Logan rolled his eyes.

“Then what were you going to say?” Logan prompted.

“Well, Anx could've replied to your question by saying ‘I’m not hot’ and I would've said ‘See, that's why we're perfect together! You're chill and I'm flamin’,” Roman said and jumped off the swing landing softly on the ground. He turned around to loom at Virgil. “Wait, ‘Anx’ is okay, right?”

“Yes, Princey,” Virgil responded. Roman smiled.

“Perfect, we're the three musketeers! Princey, Anxiety, and Logic!” Roman cheered. Logan cocked an eyebrow.

“Logic?” Logan questioned.

“Oh, yeah! I call you that in my head, since you're super smart. I think it's a fitting nickname… Um, do you like it?” Roman asked apprehensively. Logan gave a curt nod.

“It’s very apt,” Logan declared. Roman laughed. Roman’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

Charlotte >> Roman

Ro, can we talk?

Charlotte >> Roman

I don't know who to believe

Roman >> Charlotte

Please trust me, Char.

Roman then typed out ‘They're no good. It took me a while to break out of their manipulation and mind games’ but ended up deleting that.

Roman >> Charlotte

Just hear me out. I'm at the park rn if you want to talk?

Charlotte >> Roman

Yeah, I'll be there

“Hey, um, heads up, I just invited Charlotte here so we can talk… about, well you know…,” Roman said as he looked up from his phone.

“Yeah, yeah, I know…,” Virgil responded, slowing down his swinging. “I don’t think I want to stick around for that though. I’m gonna take a walk.”

“Alright, have fun,” Roman responded, slightly disheartened that Virgil wasn’t staying as he waved the other boy off. Logan looked between his two friends trying to decide who to stay with. Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Ugh, Lo, you look like a lost puppy. Fine, I’ll stay!” Virgil complained. A slight blush spread on Logan’s cheeks.

“I am not a lost puppy! I just said that so you’d stay!” Logan said in that matter-of-factly way that made it very obvious he was lying and that although the outcome was desirable, it was definitely not intentional. Virgil oh so eloquently responded to Logan’s petulance by sticking out his tongue at Logic. Roman chortled and ended up snorting from laughter which in turn made the other two boys laugh, so that when Charlotte arrive, she was left upon a group of laughing teenagers who for the life of them, could not stop. At first, she was distressed, as the only thing on her mind was finding out the truth about the people in her life, but at the sight she cracked a small smile that grew, and ultimately, she joined in on the laughter too. Whenever the four were close to recovering, Roman just ended up snorting again and the other three would roar with laughter, thereupon Roman would laugh again as well.

It was pure serenity. It was pure happiness. It was pure trust.

“Y-You know, haha, I’ve never felt, hehe, like this with, haha, Wynne before. I think I believe you, Ro,” Charlotte gasped, struggling to speak through the laughs. Her statement lead the other three to calm down with an occasional hiccup of laughter echoing from one of them. “Also, I am going to destroy Wynne for outing you, Virgil,” Charlotte blushed, “Also, uh, sorry about that fling we had. If I had known you didn’t want it, I wouldn’t have...”

“N-No, I consented! But don’t kill Wynne. I-It’s not worth it. You’ll get in trouble,” Virgil pleaded.

“Like you guys won’t?” Charlotte argued.

“Charlotte, if I may, wouldn’t it be more productive to amend for the things that you did, that may not have necessarily been good things, rather than get revenge? I’ve learned that it’s no good to punish people in retribution. You’ll just end up being as bad as they are, right?” Logan proffered.

“Yeah… I guess you’re right. I think- I think I’m gonna go talk to Rashmi. And all my other exes. And the people who I cheated in school from. But mostly Rashmi. I miss her a lot and it’s been so long and you were there when we broke up, right Virgil? I was trying so hard to be better, but I couldn’t, and then I ruined it and I tried to make out with you, and ugh! I messed up, like, big time.” Roman smiled.

“Well then, now’s your time to be better like you wanted to. I- Good luck, Charlotte. If you ever need someone who gets what it’s like to be manipulated by someone like Wynne, I’m here,” Roman said.

“I’d be happy to be your friend,” Charlotte responded as she smiled and walked off.

That night, Logan and Virgil layed on the grass in Logan’s backwards staring at the stars hidden in light pollution. The bugs were hidden away and asleep, so it was just the two of them and the half moon. Virgil sighed.

“So, my dad’s back in town tomorrow. His business trip and whatnot bein’ over. I think, maybe I should tell him about that fight with Nurul, but I don’t wanna make him worry anymore,” Virgil wiped away the tears that began to well up, “But then it’s just- Our relationship is already so strained, and then being all like ‘Hey dad! The kids at school still hate me!’ may be a bit too much. But I just, I don’t know..,” Virgil quietly rambled. Logan hummed.

“Talking will help. Maybe not even about that, but just clear the air. Tell him that you care about him. I dunno, I’m not the one to ask about this. I have been deemed Logic and not Feelings, after all,” Logan joked.

“Mr. Feelings, what am I to do?” Virgil asked with an air of extravagance as he climbed on top of Logan acting like a damsel in distress. Logan laughed.

“I don’t know, Anxiety, perhaps your solution lies away from me! For I am not the good Mr. Feelings! I am the evil Mr. Logic, and I’ve got you under my spell!” Logan shouted as he rolled the two over so Logan was on the top now as he pinned Virgil down.

“Oh no! Whatever shall I do? There is no Princey here to save me!” Virgil announced as he mock fainted. Logan smiled and shook his head as he climbed off of Virgil. Logan’s phone fell out of his pocket and when he picked it up he saw a notification from the screen mirroring app that Wynne’s phone was currently in use. He unlocked his phone and looked at the texts Wynne was currently sending. They were to Nurul, and they were quite concerning.

Wynne >> Nurul

just stay out of my way, okay! ill take care of it.

Nurul >> Wynne

At least tell me how you’re going to get revenge.

Wynne >> Nurul

if we hurt virgil, we hurt logan more than if we got him directly. the dweeb cares too much.

Look. im gonna call virgils dad as the school and be all like ‘hey virgils dad your son started a fight and beat up an innocent kid, thought you should know!’

that’ll get anyone grounded. or worse.

Logan’s eyes widened. “Oh no. Oh shit, this is bad. Anx, look at this,” Logan panicked, shoving his phone in Virgil’s face.

“Woah, woah, Lo, calm down. It’s fine,” Virgil moved the phone away from his face to a distance where he could read the screen, “Never mind. Let’s panic. Oh fuck.” Logan twiddled with his glasses and began to speak at an unintelligible speed.

“We can- We can shut this down, right? It’s possible. Oh my gosh, Wynne is right. Haha, I love caring more about my friends more than myself. Okay anyway. Ummm. We could block the signal? No, i don’t know how much time we have. Um. Uh. We could redirect the call! That’s easier, I think! Okay yes…” Logan continued muttering how he was going to go about this while he walked inside his house and to his computer. Virgil followed suit in a daze and just hoped that Logan would fix the problem. He always does, but, is this the first time he won’t? Virgil thought as he chewed his lip which was bound to swell later.

Logan and Virgil entered Logan’s bedroom. Virgil flopped down onto Logan’s bed while Logic sat at his desk and began to type and write to figure this thing out. An hour later, he breathlessly stopped. He gasped out the air he didn’t realize he was holding.

“I think I did it. I’m not sure. I’ve never tried anything like this before,” Logan lamented.

“It’s okay if it doesn’t work. Just- Thank you. For always protecting me,” Virgil replied.

“I’ve always been afraid of losing you. You’re my best friend, and I- Fuck. Emotions,” Logan said melancholically, his forehead slightly creased.

“It’s okay, I know what you’re trying to say. I love you too,” Virgil whispered with a soft smile. Virgil’s phone started buzzing and when he saw who was calling he furrowed his brow.

“Wynne is calling me?” Virgil questioned. “Should I pick it up or…?”

“Oh right,” Logan adjusted his glasses, “I redirected the call so instead of Wynne’s call going to your dad’s phone, it goes to yours.” Virgil nodded, picked up the phone, and put it on speaker.

“Hello Mr. Sanders, this is Vice Principal Vitali. I apologize for calling this late, but we weren’t getting a response earlier, and I was just leaving my office, so I thought I’d try one last time. Your son is in some serious trouble,” Wynne said with a falsely deepened voice. Virgil’s eyes went wide.

‘What do I say?’ Virgil signed at Logan.

‘Deepen your voice and pretend to be your dad. Just say you’ll ground Virgil or something,’ Logan signed back. Virgil cleared his throat.

“Ah, Mr. Vitali, what trouble do I owe you?” Virgil asked, his deepened voice shaking.

“Your son Virgil picked a fight with this innocent kid, Nurul, and proceeded to beat him up. I am very thankful our English teacher was there to intervene, for it looked like he was going to seriously injure that kid,” Wynne said.

‘This makes me so angry. Flames on the side of my face,’ Logan signed. Virgil couldn’t help but snort a little laugh.

“Excuse me, what was that you said?” Wynne asked.

“Oh sorry, that was a sn-eeze.” And Virgil’s pubescent voice cracks struck at the wrong time on the word sneeze. “I’m a little sick, so my voice is not right, right now,” he lied.

“Well, I apologize that I’m bringing such information at this troubling time. I hope you will deal with your son as you see fit.”

“Yes, thank you. I must be grounding him,” Virgil said, but it came out more like a question than a statement. “Goodbye now,” he said as he tapped the end call button. But. His finger didn’t hit end call, it hit right next to end call, and neither Virgil nor Logan noticed that the phone was still on.

“Oh my gosh, it worked,” Logan cheered.

“Yes!” Virgil shouted, back in his normal voice.

“Ex-Excuse me?”

‘Oh shit,’ Virgil signed.

‘Hang up! Just hang up!’ Logan signed back. But before he could, Wynne spoke again.

“Wait a minute, that sounded like Logan’s voice? And Virgil’s? I sincerely hope I am talking to Mr. Sanders and not his kid and his friend trying to get out of trouble,” Wynne continued, not once breaking character. “Because if it is Logan and Virgil, I wonder how they knew about this call. Surely no one in the administration talked them about it. Which would mean it’s sabotage. And oh, Mr. Sanders. You aren’t even interrupting me. So I must assume it’s Logan and Virgil,” Wynne dropped the phony voice, “You dweebs I will destroy you!”

“U-Um-,” Virgil stuttered trying to get back into his false voice but failing.

“So it is you, jackass. Now let me think, how would you know about this? The only other person who knows is Nurul and he’s with me here right now, aren’t ya buddy? So it must be… hm… perhaps the little nerd decided to hack again? Didn’t he learn his lesson the last time?”

“Actually, no, I didn’t. Nurul’s a terrible fighter,” Logan snarked.

‘Logan, what are you doing?’ Virgil signed.

‘It’s fine. Trust me. Follow my lead’ Logan signed back. Virgil nodded.

“Yeah, he must be pretty weak if I supposedly seriously injured him,” Virgil said.

“Listen well Virgil. I know things about you that you wouldn’t want anyone to know. Now. I will destroy you unless you stop being a shithead and meddling with Roman! He’s mine! You hear me? You have two choices: convince Roman that I was right all along and have him join me again, or, let me destroy Roman for being the worst fucking person alive! Otherwise, you and your stupid nerd friend will find yourselves in a world of pain, got it?” Wynne threatened.

“No.”

“What did you say?” Wynne asked.

“I said no!” Virgil shouted at the phone. “Now get the fuck out of my life. If I’m such a loser and a dweeb, then why the hell do you keep trying to toy with me? Go raise your standards, asshat.” Virgil pressed the end call button for real this time and then looked up at Logan. He was shaking all over and couldn’t breathe. He was absolutely still and silent, and panting and heaving and crying at the same time. It was the beginning of an anxiety attack.

a/n: hope you enjoy! things are getting spicy.

prinxiety tag list from famders tag list:

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[sunflowerrichie]

my boy

chapter 1: eighth grade

“who’s richie?”

“he’s my boyfriend,” she began, her eyes glazed over and a pleased smile on her face. puppy love; something eddie would never get the chance in having with richie.

summary: ever since they met in eighth grade, richie had been disappearing for weeks (even months) at a time, leaving eddie to think they’re on bad terms; though, that’s not really why richie disappears.

warning(s): language.

author: richie (sunflowerrichie)

note: this book is based off real life events, so if the details are too exact, that’s why. i don’t know how many chapters there will be at the moment due to events after the 7th chapter not happening yet, but i will let you guys know when i’m going to post the next chapter.

word count: 2,076

ao3: x

tagging: @addimagination

“who’s richie?” eddie had asked myra, his doe eyes wide and questioning; he briefly thanked whatever god was out there that the girl could not see him, for she’d read right through him. if eddie could go back in time from where he was now, he would’ve never asked that simple question containing only two words, though he already knew this was another one of her unsuccessful boyfriends. there was a comic book in his hand, one he disregarded the second someone new was mentioned.

myra fixed her hair from where she was lying on the couch, responding quickly. “he’s my boyfriend,” she began, her eyes glazed over and a pleased smile on her face. puppy love; something eddie would never get the chance in having with richie. “he’s tall and lanky... got dark, black hair; i’m surprised you haven't seen him around, eddie.” 

myra had met eddie in sixth grade, easily becoming friends with the hypochondriac. the smaller boy made a habit of wiping her desk down with cleansing wipes before she sat in it, and in return, she gave eddie platonic love. his mom loved her; for she was just as neat as her sweet eddie-bear and she vowed to make sure he’s taking his medication on time. she was much like sonia, actually; except for being a believer in ‘love at first sight’.

this wasn’t the first time she’s been head over heels for someone, nor would it be the last, but eddie was used to it at this point. each time, he’d make himself presentable for her boyfriend, and each time, they’d never show much interest in the asthmatic boy.

eddie hummed, feigning carelessness and turning back to his book. “is he in eighth grade, too?” he had asked, flipping the page over, though his ears were perked up and his eyes were no longer scanning the words printed nicely on the paper.

“yeah,” myra responded, her voice like she was up in the clouds, high on euphoria. she snapped back quickly, glancing down at the boy on the floor and catching his eyes. “you should talk to him; i think you would start to like him,” more than you think, eddie would learn to realize. before he could decline the offer, though, she was speaking again. “he likes david bowie... and what’s that one song you like?” she paused, her eyebrows scrunching together. “uh... something about the rains in africa?”

eddie perked up quickly, his hot chocolate colored eyes twinkling with the white marshmallows sculpted deep inside them. “africa by toto,” he had said, his cheeks growing hot. eddie kaspbrak loved music, he always had; and now that he would potentially have someone to discuss this love with, he was immediately hooked. he found out three years later, though, that it did not work out the way he had planned. he snapped out of his daze, his smile still apparent. “is he coming over?”

the girl grinned from ear to ear, unbelievably delighted that her best friend was keen on meeting her boyfriend. she looked down at her phone then, the screen lighting up and reflecting on her face in a green kind of glow, the color of her lock screen. “he said he’s on his way,” myra started. “he lives just down the street, so he’ll be here in a few minutes.”

the short boy was struck with a sort of fear then, subconsciously fixing his hair. he nodded, biting his lip and trying not to act suspicious (though this was normal for him; he was always afraid new people would think he’s too messy, too uncaring). myra didn’t seem to notice, though, and kept staring at her phone with a smile, typing away at the keys. at this realization, eddie stood up and coughed awkwardly. “i’m gonna go use the bathroom.” once he got an ‘okay’, he started walking.

when he came out of the bathroom after a few deep, calming breaths and a puff of his aspirator just in case, his clothes were freshly lint-rolled and perfect, his hair was combed and neat, and his teeth were nice and brushed. his fanny pack was around his waist, keeping him grounded and secure. he heard talking from the living room and walked into the doorway, his hands cupped at his front.

richie tozier turned to him, a wide grin on his face and his glasses askew. eddie let his eyes drift around the boy, taking in every detail he could in the three seconds he allowed himself to stare. richie had a grey shirt on, a white and navy blue hawaiian shirt draped over it. the fabric was loose on his skinny frame, and eddie noticed three cigarettes extended out of his pocket, making the small boy’s hands start to shake. his pants were black and tight, complimenting his long legs. and to top it all off, he had black and white slip-on vans over his green and purple socks. he didn’t match; but it suited him in a way eddie felt jealous of.

“like whatcha see?” the tall boy asked, making eddie blush in realization that he noticed the staring. before he could respond, myra spoke again, catching the asthmatic off guard. he had forgot she was in the room.

“richie, this is eddie,” she gestured towards him. “eddie, this is richie,” and back towards richie.

the glasses-clad boy grinned even harder, making eddie wonder if his face would split in half with the force of the grin. the smaller boy looked over to myra quickly, her giving him a smile and her eyes saying ‘this is normal, don’t be alarmed’. he stepped forward and stuck out his lanky arm, waiting for the small boy to shake it. he didn’t; he was afraid richie would think his hands were too rough (he forgot to apply lotion). “richie tozier.”

-

one week after richie introduced himself to eddie, the asthmatic was at myra’s house again, same as last weekend. “what did you get for number 6?” the girl asked, flipping her paper over and furrowing her eyebrows. she was across from eddie on her bed, both of them lying on their stomachs and going over their math homework.

“two,” eddie responded easily, writing something down on his paper. he then paused for a while, his hand hovering over his paper as he thought. “what do you want to do tomorrow?” he asked, looking up at her with hope in his eyes. hope that richie would come over again. hope that they’d have another chance to all watch a movie together (he had sat on the ground the whole time, though, trying not to pay attention to the sound of their lips smacking together every once in a while and the bounce of richie’s leg on the carpet). he hadn’t got that close to richie yet, for he’d have to take a puff of his aspirator every time he thought about it; but with richie’s loud mouth and his easy-going attitude, it was slightly easier than he thought.

myra hummed, looking up at him briefly before turning the page in the blue textbook. “i was planning to have richie come over at around ten in the morning,” she spoke, seeming to think them over as they floated out of her mouth. “is that okay?” she blushed slightly, looking back up at eddie.

the small boy nodded, pulling his phone out quickly to set an alarm for nine in the morning. he told himself he’d need time to wake up, but he knew deep down that he really only did that because he wants to look good for the taller boy. “that sounds good,” he smiled, glancing at the time quickly. he stood up then, grabbing his fanny pack and snapping it around his waist again. “be right back, i gotta take my medicine.”

the second it turned nine o’clock the next morning, eddie’s phone was ringing and the sound was echoing through myra’s living room. the small boy groaned and rolled over, shutting off his alarm and rubbing at his eyes. when his mind got a chance to catch up and his first thought was richie, though, he was up and rushing to turn the shower on.

when richie opened the door an hour later, he was grinning and his nose was a different color, the cold, november air outside making his skin blush red.

“spaghetti!” he yelled, immediately taking interest in the asthmatic boy, much to his surprise. “i was hoping you’d be here again!”

eddie blushed deeply, water pooling behind his eyes due to embarrassment. “hi, richie,” he spoke softly, the name unfamiliar on his tongue as he scanned the room for myra (he hoped briefly that he’d get a chance for the name to finally become familiar flowing out of his mouth). “uh, myra will be here in a second, she went to-“

the taller boy cut him off quickly, wrapping his lanky arm around his shoulders. “no worries, short stack,” he started, not coming off offensive but more... fond; as if he’d known eddie since they were in sixth grade, too. “for i, the one and only richie tozier, would not mind hanging out with my favorite eds!” he finished off in a loud, almost ear-ringing, voice, grinning down at eddie, his ocean blue eyes gleaming.

before the brown-eyed boy could respond with a ‘don’t call me that’ and a soft shove, myra was walking through the doorway and richie’s arm was unwrapping itself from his shoulders, leaving him with a heart that had plunged down into his lower stomach. “i see you two have made friends with one another.” friends. all they would ever be.

to that, richie nodded, the grin still on his face. does he ever stop fucking grinning? “we have, haven’t we, spaghetti head?” the words seemed as if they came from another planet, for the sound of blood rushing behind his ears was too loud for the small boy to process what richie was saying.

he excused himself to go use the bathroom then, and when he got there, he realized he might as well have been losing his mind. “keep it together, kaspbrak,” he said to his reflection, swallowing down a lump in his throat. “it’s just richie,” the name was still unfamiliar, “just myra’s new, unsuccessful boyfriend, richie.”

when eddie finally got himself to come out of the bathroom and walk into the living room again, he was stopped dead in his tracks. myra’s pinky was looped around the taller boy’s and words were flowing out of his mouth beautifully.

“-i promise, okay? i’ll always be here for you,” and then he was moving his hand up and extending his thumb to kiss. “i never break a pinky promise.” if only eddie would have known those six words would be repeating through his head painfully for three years afterwards. richie looked like a totally different person when he was serious, eddie then realized. he felt anxiety creep up his body with the question ‘i wonder if i’ll ever be in myra’s spot’. he knew he’d probably have an asthma attack due to richie’s eyes alone.

-

“me and richie broke up,” is what eddie heard five days later coming through his cell phone speaker, the owner’s voice broken and rough. “i-i didn’t-”

“wait, wait, what happened?” the brown-eyed boy asked, more curious than sympathetic.

“he pinky promised me!” she wailed, ignoring his question and making eddie move the phone an inch or two from his ear. “he said he never breaks pinky promises, and he did!”

-

eddie stopped talking to myra after that. not because of any particular reason, but just simply because of the fact that whenever he looked at her, all he could think about was richie’s arm around him and richie’s pinky promise and richie’s beautiful, blue eyes. the two boys never swapped numbers, so eddie had to spend the rest of eighth grade wondering if richie was ever really his ‘friend’, or if he was only taking interest in the hypochondriac because of myra.

what he didn’t realize until three months later, though, was that richie actually never did break his pinky promise. he was still there for myra if she needed him, but eddie guesses he lost interest in being something more than acquaintances. richie was good with his words and eddie was destined to be wrapped around his finger sooner or later.

[canadiankazz]

The Fourth Time - An L.A. by Night fanfic

Jasper and Annabelle's relationship has taken a lot of intimate steps lately, but when she lets him take the reins, so to speak, and let his more dominant side out, they manage to find a way to get even more pleasure out of it. 

SPOILERS for the end of Campaign 1 including the one-shots. This has gone off canon, so consider this an AU. It's worth reading Part 1 (The First Time), Part 2 (The Second Time) and Part 3 (The Third Time) before you read this. This fic takes place almost directly after The Third Time. This was written before the premiere of Season 2, Episode 2.

I lay no claim to owning any of the characters involved. Things are gonna get more kinky than they have been in this series so far from here on out. We are way past tame wrist biting now. We’re getting into some mild BDSM stuff in this part.

As always, special thanks to @cravatfiend for the support and encouragement during the writing of the drafts. When I asked them for a safe word, they picked the best one for Annabelle. I had the privilege of watching them read this for the first time and all they could say was "...Damn!" High praise, indeed. 

All my love, also, to @gokaiyellow for their additional input, @fluffy-wookiees for being adorable, and to everyone else who has enjoyed this series so far. There are many more parts to come after this one, no worries. (As of posting, I’m currently finishing writing part 8 with ideas for part 9!)

Also posted to the author's Ao3.

First posted Feb, 2, 2019.

The Entire ‘Feeds From’ Master List Can be Found Here

The Fourth Time

Annabelle was having a nightmare. She was running for her life through a dark sewer. Her shoes splashed through the filth. Rats squeaked and scattered in a panic as she charged forwards. Behind her, she could hear a dreadful snarling echoing through the tunnel. She couldn’t see the monster chasing her, but she could hear it. Its hungry growling was getting closer and closer. When, not if, but when it caught her, it was going to rip her apart and eat her alive. Her eyes scanned the walls and curved ceiling frantically for a ladder or escape hatch up to the streets above. There! A ladder appeared to her right. She climbed it as fast as she could, but right when she was about to push up through the manhole cover, she felt sharp claws grab her leg and pull her back down. She screamed.

Annabelle woke with a shudder. Her Beast strained in her chest and throat. The room she was in was dark. There were no windows. She was on her side facing a blank wall. She could feel someone else's body pressed against her back and a long arm curved cosily around her side and stomach that was not her own. There was no breath or body heat coming from the person behind her.

Then she remembered. She was in Jasper's sanctum again. In his bed, again. And he had fed on her last night, again. And now...

She tried to turn her head to look at him without disturbing him. His arm tightened around her a little.

“Jasper?” she whispered.

“Mm.”

He was awake. Annabelle relaxed a little and went back to looking at the wall. He seemed comfortable where he was and so was she, to her mild surprise. Their relationship had taken many great leaps these past few months.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey,” he mumbled into her hair.

“Sleep well?”

“Like the dead.”

She rolled her eyes and poked his arm. “Ha. Ha.”

She heard him snarl softly in her ear as he smiled.

“You need a bigger bed,” she told him.

“Why?”

“Because we only barely fit on it.”

“I thought that this was only going to be a temporary thing,” he said, sounding amused. “Something to tie me over for a little while.”

“Well, clearly... it's not,” Annabelle said softly.

“We can't keep doing this forever,” he told her. His voice was gentle, but firm. “The others are going to find out, and... it's not a healthy relationship.”

Annabelle frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

“What I mean is that...” he sighed, thinking of what to say. She felt him roll back slightly away from her. “It's one sided.”

“No... you feed from me sometimes and let me sleep in your bed sometimes, that's fair.”

“But you don't have to sleep here.”

“You don't have to feed from me either, but here we are,” Annabelle said pointedly. She sighed and touched his hand. “I don't want to argue with you. I... I am happy for this to continue as long as you want. I don't feel like it's one sided, Jasper. I thought you liked it... Liked me.”

“I do,” he admitted softly, “but that’s the problem. I think I’m liking it too much and... that scares me.”

Annabelle thought she understood now. He had told her that a Kindred feeding from another was a big deal and she got why now. Blood was more than just food for them, it was life, and sharing your life with someone else left a big impact. So too did someone forcibly taking it away. He had been trying to adjust to this new, kinder type of feeding and despite the fact that they had only done it three or four times in the past few months, maybe things were still, on an emotional level, going a little too fast for him. Annabelle awkwardly shifted, rolling over to face him. His hoodie was down. From what little light there was in the bedroom, she could see his pale, gaunt face. “It’s okay,” she said. “Don’t let it scare you. I think I get it though. We’ve been kind of going at my pace a little bit.”

Jasper remained quiet, but gave a slight nod. He could see she was more or less on the right track. He felt it in his blood.

“Okay,” Annabelle sighed slowly. “Do you want some emotional space?”

“I think so. To think things over.”

Annabelle nodded and stroked his arm. Her Vitae has done a good job healing him. “Okay,” she said. She didn’t want to make Jasper uncomfortable in this relationship. “How about this... if you want to do this again, you call me, okay? And we’ll do it however you want to.”

“Okay,” Jasper said. He lent forward a little and his forehead touched Annabelle’s for a brief, tender moment. “Thank you,” he whispered. Then he rolled over and got out of bed.

Annabelle stayed where she was, not wanting to get up yet. “You still owe me a boon, remember?”

“Mm. True.”

“And I've thought about what I want from you. If anything happens to me, anything really bad, I want you to take care of Mark and Elleanore for me.”

“What do you mean by 'take care of?'” he asked.

“Watch out for them. Make sure they don't get attacked, I guess? Just keep them safe, as best you can.” Her hand found her golden locket around her neck and held it.

Jasper considered this briefly and decided that it wasn't unreasonable. It was certainly less embarrassing than teaching X how to moonwalk. “Alright,” he nodded.

“Thank you,” Annabelle said tenderly.

Then Jasper stretched his long limbs. Annabelle could her his joints crack and pop. She sat up and sighed. She was hungry. She needed to go.

She packed up her laptop and the little plastic candles she had brought the night before. Jasper helped to collect them. “Will I see you again later?” She asked hopefully.

Jasper shrugged. “At some point, yes. I want to explore my labyrinth this week, and I know the others will be tracking down those other Kindred who attacked us the other night. We should help with that.”

Annabelle nodded. She was angry that her group had been attacked and she hadn't been there to help. At least she could help in the aftermath. She dreaded to think what would have become of Jasper if she hadn't gotten to him when she did. “Yeah.”

An invisible Jasper walked Annabelle to Griffith College, then they parted ways. They both had a lot to do.

**

Jasper kept himself busy over the next few weeks. He explored his labyrinth. He visited Eva. He received and carried out more jobs for Baron Abrams. All the while, Annabelle's movements and moods were in the back of his mind. The longer he went without feeding on her, the weaker his bond with her became. Part of him missed that. He found himself delaying finding another more permanent solution to his empty larder. He knew that eventually he would have to go back to his more aggressive feeding style, but he also knew he would miss having someone give him their honest and thoughtful consent. It made him feel a tiny bit less like a monster.

That got him thinking. Despite himself, he started to formulate a plan, purely hypothetical, of how his next feeding session with Annabelle could go. She had asked him to come back to her when he was ready to initiate things again and had said that they could do things his way if they wanted to. He had genuinely appreciated that. There was something dominant about him that was asking to be satisfied. Every time it came down to the act of feeding in the past, Jasper had been violent and dominant. Until Annabelle came along and offered herself to him, that is. That had changed things. Jasper had become what was for him, very submissive. Nothing wrong with that, of course, but it wasn't what he wanted to be doing all the time, every time.

He was curious, also, about how far he could push Annabelle's boundaries. She was the one who always wanted more and he had been holding back. He knew very well what he was physically capable of and what his Beast demanded of him. The thought of challenging Annabelle, daring her to keep up with him intrigued him. By the time Jasper finished planning the night he had in mind, he knew that he might regret it forever if he didn't try it. The worst that would happen was Annabelle would say no. He might be a little disappointed, but that was nothing new. He waited another few nights, then decided to set his plan in motion.

**

Annabelle was on her way home when she thought she heard something behind her. She paused, straining her senses, searching for something unseen. At first, there was nothing, then she heard Jasper’s disembodied voice in her ear. “Hey.”

She jumped. “God...!”

“No, just me.” Jasper sounded highly amused.

“Jasper, what are you doing?” She hissed, annoyed at being startled like that.

“I was going to ask you...” he started, then hesitated, possibly reconsidering his words. “Would like to come over tomorrow night for another round?”

Annabelle felt a ghost of a touch on her neck and shoulder, right where he had bitten her last time. She shivered and something deep in her core twisted in the memory of pleasure. “Uhhh... sure,” she said faintly. Her mouth was dry and she swallowed. “Can I ask why? I thought you might not want to any more.”

“I’d been thinking,” Jasper said in her ear with a light snarl, “that there are a few things I would like to try with a consenting individual such as yourself, and I don’t know when I will get the chance to do them again. I would be a fool to not ask.” He put special emphasis on the word ‘consenting.’ His voice was soft and sensual, unusually so, but it was undercut with a thirst that Annabelle recognised.

“Okay, um... how about I come over tomorrow and we’ll talk about it and... see where we go from there,” she said.

“Alright. Come by 3:00,” Jasper replied, “and bring those little plastic candles. And yes... you may sleep over as well.”

Annabelle nodded. “See you then.”

“Oh, one last thing...” she felt Jasper’s lips on her ear and she shivered again, despite herself. “In the meantime, can you think of a safe word, please?”

Annabelle’s eyes went very wide. What on earth could he be planning that would need a safe word? “Uh...” she stammered.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course. Well, I have to, for us to do this, right?”

“We don’t have to do this,” he reminded her.

“I know, but... I want to.” Annabelle swallowed nervously and steadied her nerves. “Okay. I’ll think of something.”

“Alright. See you tomorrow.”

She didn’t hear him leave, but she hadn’t heard him approach either. She stood there in mild shock for another little while with her hands over her mouth and cheeks. She cursed herself for being as excited as she was. This was going to be very, very interesting. She hurried the rest of the way home.

**

When Annabelle arrived once again at Jasper's sanctum the next night, she had her bag with her with the plastic candles and her laptop in it. She had fed earlier, as much as she could without killing any one. She was almost beside herself with nervous excitement. Part of her thought that she should be more apprehensive, that she should let someone know where she was just in case things went bad. But she trusted Jasper. He had been very good to her so far, very good indeed, and he didn't seem to want to ruin this relationship they had going. She trusted the control he had over himself. She still believed that, over-all, he wasn't a bad guy.

She knocked on his front door. Jasper answered it quickly. He had been waiting for her in the passage way on the other side again. He was wearing a different black hoodie this night. This one had fewer layers and just a straight zipper up and down. It was casual. Easy to get into and out of. Interesting.

They smiled at each other and Jasper invited her in. She followed him closely back down the long passage way, though she was sure by now she had the route memorised. They caught up with a little small talk. As they got closer to his rooms, Annabelle could hear faint music. It was classical, something with an orchestra and a choir. They weren't singing in English... Latin, maybe? Annabelle wasn't as knowledgeable on her classical pieces. “You're playing music?” She asked, pleased and surprised.

“Yeah, to set a mood.” Jasper smirked at her. She recognised her own line that she had used on him last time she was here.

“Oh, I see,” she chuckled. “What is it?”

“Mozart’s Requiem in D Minor.” Jasper licked his fangs. “Tell me... have you learned Blush of Life yet?”

“Um... yeah. Yes, I have.” Annabelle had used it very successfully around Elleanore. It gave her a pulse, warmed her skin, let her breathe and otherwise seem almost entirely human again. Annabelle tilted her head a little at Jasper, slowly working out what he had planned. “Why?”

His grin was sharp. “I would like you to use it tonight.”

“Oh... yeah, sure. Right now?”

“If you'd like, or we can wait until we get to the bedroom.”

“I'll wait,” she decided. So far, she liked where this was going.

In the bedroom, they set up her candles on the floor as they did last time. The room was soon full of artificial, warm candlelight. The classical music continued in the background, unobtrusive.

“Did you decide on a safe word?” Jasper inquired.

“Yeah. Um... are you familiar with the stoplight method?”

He considered it. “Red, yellow, green?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Green means go, yellow means slow down, and red means stop. It's basic, but effective.”

Jasper nodded. “Alright. We're going to use that tonight. Unless I hear you say 'yellow' or 'red,' I'm going to assume that everything is green.”

“No gags, then, please,” Annabelle specified.

“No,” Jasper agreed. That had never been a part of his plan for tonight.

Annabelle kept glancing at his fangs while he spoke. She couldn’t help it. His eyes had a hungry and excited gleam. She suspected that he and his Beast were working in near harmony tonight. Well, they had their safe word in place. Everything would be okay. She was feeling brave and keen to see how far Jasper was going to push things tonight.

When she was ready, Annabelle nodded and slipped off her red jacket, as was their custom by now. She had worn the good bra again. Jasper recognised the shape of it under her thin tank top. He snarled a little when he smiled.

“On the bed, please,” he gestured to the bed. Annabelle complied, her lips twitching into a little smile. She sat on the bed, then lay back. As she did so, she activated Blush of Life. Her Beast stirred a little, but was still mostly dormant. She glanced at Jasper. He was staring at her with an expression of incredible desire. He came over to her and sat on the bed. He held her hand and seemed to marvel for a few seconds at its warmth. Annabelle's body fell back into the natural rhythm of breathing. Jasper felt her pulse in her wrist. His fingers were very cold by comparison, and felt very dead. He snarled to himself, pleased.

“I don't have Blush of Life,” he explained softly. “I never bothered to learn how to do it. I mean... why would I? Who am I going to try to convince that I'm alive?”

“You still could learn,” Annabelle said. She could think of at least one person he might have used Blush of Life on, if he could, but bringing up that person was very likely going to ruin the mood, so she didn't.

He shook his head. “I could, but it's doubtful.” He seemed to be enjoying just feeling her hands for a moment. The classical music swelled and faded into a new piece of a similar feel to the last, but a faster tempo.

Jasper moved suddenly. With little warning, he was on top of Annabelle, straddling her hips. He had one knee pressed on either side of her ribs. He wasn't very heavy, especially not for a Brujah's strength to support. Annabelle's insides quivered in anticipation. She felt vulnerable, but she remembered all she had to do was say one or two words and he would stop. She understood finally what he had been planning. Jasper looked down at Annabelle, his icy eyes boring into hers. Her heartbeat sped up considerably. Her face flushed. She met his gaze, excited but steady. The degree to which she wanted this to continue bewildered her.

Slowly now, he peeled his hood off his head. Then his hands went to the zipper in the front of his hoodie and he slowly began to tug it down. Annabelle's eyes went wide as Jasper's chest was exposed. He was built of nothing but lean muscle. His flesh was as pale as death save for the starkly contrasting mass of black veins that criss-crossed his body like an insane roadway map. He had no body hair. He unzipped the hoodie down to the bottom, but didn't take it all the way off. This was a compromise, she realised. She had wanted to see what he looked like under his layers for a while, and he had always said no. This was an in-between he was allowing her.

She gave him a warm smile, but when she reached to touch him he stopped her. He gripped one hand in each of his and leaned down over her. He pinned her warm hands and wrists down with his deathly cold hands to the mattress above her head. He continued to watch her, as if daring her to say 'yellow' or 'red.' She didn't. His grip on her was strong. Their faces were close now. Annabelle was breathing hard.

Jasper bared his fangs and growled at her, as if trying to scare her. He was the monster from myth and legend, the deadly black shadow with razor sharp fangs who stalked helpless people at night and she was the young, naive victim. He was perhaps even trying to provoke her one last time into saying their safe word. She did look scared for a moment. There was fear in her eyes, in her Beast, but still she didn’t say either of the words that would make Jasper pull back. A true victim, she was no longer. Annabelle was allowing this to happen.

“Green?” he rasped, edging towards losing control.

“Green,” she nodded and tilted her head to expose her neck. Blood, warm blood, flowed there, and some of it at least, was his for the taking.

The music swelled again in the background as the choir reached a melodramatic crescendo. With a hungry snarl Jasper bit Annabelle hard in the throat. She gasped at the pain. Jasper had good aim. His long, wicked fangs had landed right on her jugular. He bit deep, and his mouth filled with Vitae. She was as sweet, strong and aroused as always, but this time her blood was body temperature. Jasper had never had warm Vitae from another Kindred before. His Beast exalted. He began to drink greedily, keeping an ear open for Annabelle wanting to end this early. He hoped she would not.

The pleasure of the Kiss soon followed, radiating out over Annabelle's body and making her moan. Her eyes rolled back in her skull. She flexed her arms against Jasper, but he still held her down, firmly pinning her to the mattress. Her body, still under the influence of Blush of Life, reacted as it normally would have to intense pleasure. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her pulse raced, sending vital blood into Jasper's hungry mouth. Her brain was very soon dizzy, but she didn't care. Her Beast scrambled, but was soundly ignored in the overwhelming wave of sensations. Annabelle didn't know if it was because of this new, intense situation or the anticipation that had led up to it, but the pleasure this time was near orgasmic. When she felt Jasper bite a little harder in his enthusiasm, it crossed that threshold and she crested with a cry. Annabelle's body trembled uncontrollably underneath Jasper's from her core outwards.

Jasper lingered on Annabelle's throat for a moment or two longer, then pulled his head back with a snarl. His fangs and tongue were painted a deep crimson. Annabelle only barely noticed this. She shivered when he licked her wound closed and he thought he heard her whimper. His Beast whispered at him to continue, that this had been the best he ever had, but he clenched his jaw and ignored it.

Jasper sat up and let her hands go. She didn't move them. She lay there still, breathing hard, eyes closed. Each exhale had a little moan attached to it. He watched her chest heave up and down for a minute. The music faded and changed again to a soprano singing backed by strings and a piano.

Annabelle opened her eyes and saw Jasper watching her. He was still straddling her hips. She smiled up at him. “Wow,” she mumbled. She lowered her hands and rested them on his knees on either side of her body. Jasper didn’t mind. He chuckled at her reaction. “I... mm...” Words were failing her as her blood-deprived brain swam in a haze of endorphins.

“Good?” Jasper confirmed.

Annabelle still couldn’t speak, but she nodded.

Jasper slid carefully off of her and sat on the bed next to her. He hadn't taken a lot of Vitae this time, but what he had taken was potent indeed. His head was also filled with endorphins, mainly from her, but he didn't have the Blush of Life to let his body do anything about it.

“I can't believe you let me do that,” he chuckled softly. He re-zipped up his hoodie, but only part way. He left the top third or so of it open. “I thought for sure you were going to stop me when I pinned you down.”

Annabelle stretched and smiled at him. Other than an internal scolding from her Beast, she was content, still reeling slightly from the pleasures she had been through. “But I didn't.”

Jasper relaxed down next to her on the narrow bed as best he could. He found himself playing a little with her long, black hair. Their bond had deepened again, he knew. At that moment, in that place, he did not care. “You liked it... rather a lot,” he remarked, still amused. His fangs, when Annabelle saw them, were clean now.

“Yeah...” Annabelle marvelled. She covered her face with her hands as embarrassment washed over her. The pleasure this time had been too, too much. “Oh my God!” he heard her muffled giggle.

“What?” Jasper inquired, though he was fully aware of what had happened to her body and why. He was having fun.

Annabelle peeked at him through her fingers. She was grinning. “Is that what you had planned?” she demanded.

“More or less, yes. I'm glad it worked.”

Annabelle groaned softly. “Did you know about... that I would...”

Jasper smirked. “I kind of suspected... but no, but it was a pleasant surprise.” He stroked a cold, pale hand down her arm to her chest, where it settled over her still-beating heart.

“Boy, I'll say,” Annabelle agreed.

Feeling Annabelle's magically enforced heartbeat made Jasper get very quiet and suddenly a little introverted. His eyes found the gold locket hanging around Annabelle's neck and the silver ring on her finger and he pulled his hand back. He got up and went to turn off the music and the lights so that they could settle into bed.

When dawn broke over the City of Angels, the majority of the population arose to begin their day of work and school and life, but Jasper and Annabelle were once again literally dead to the world. The two vampires shared the little bed, holding each other. Where their relationship would take them now, neither of them knew, but in that moment at least, they were content.

[novantinuum]

A Link Beyond Memory (ch 2/4)

AO3

Fandom: Trollhunters, 3Below

Rating: T (for minor language in future chapters)

Words: 600~

Pairings: Jim/Claire, but not focus

Summary: Shortly after the events of the Eternal Night, memories of a day that never happened somehow resurface in Jim’s mind in his sleep- and upon recalling the friendship he and Aja formed, he decides to pursue that connection again. Slice of life, and kinda a slow burn friendship reunion. A hybrid of prose and chat fic (to be seen in later chapters.)

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Note: Unfortunately, fic circulation online is getting harder and harder as the months pass. Please, if you read to the end and enjoy, consider helping me out by reblogging this post, or even commenting/giving kudos over on AO3. Thanks! :D

Chapter 2: Transit

Transit- The instant when a celestial object crosses the meridian, thus reaching the highest point in the sky.

~

T: hhhh miss ya already. tbh i dont know what im supposed to do this summer now ahah

T: i was all looking forward to hangin with you and claire and everyone else in trollmarket and now…

T: i mean i still have aaarrrgghh. and darci and eli too i guess but

T: really starting to wish i came along.

T: i know you said to watch over the town while youre gone and i know thats a good point but honestly i just wanna be with you

T: jim?

T: yoooo ? did u die

T: god i hope not after all the end of the world chaos thatd be really anticlimactic

J: Sorry no I lost signal for a bit!! Miss you too gahhh.

T: pls know if you so much as say the word ill crawl on the first airplane i can find and launch myself directly at your face

T: jim liSTEN jim im not even kidding

T: screw arcadia

T: if you need me im there

J: Omg I’ll defo keep that in mind

T: ..jk dont screw arcadia tho i love this place. also its already screwed enough at this point so

T: hey but you think merlin could make me another warhammer for my growing arsenal?

J: Yeah I think he could be easily convinced.

J: He’s kinda sucking up to me now hahah

J: He already made Claire a sorta necklace amulet to store her armor so a magic hammer should be no problem

T: awesomesauceee

J: Any particular reason lol?

T: i dunno i just think itd look wicked cool to double wield, like general orzan from gun robot three. also lets be real after all the crap he put us through we deserve S W A G

J: I’ll ask tomorrow. Hey quick Q for you though

J: Well okay not exactly quick  

J: It’s actually a long story but-

T: ye?

J: Do you happen to have Aja’s number or anything?

J: We took her and her bro down to the Janus Order, lightning in a bottle, remember her?

T: ye i know- lively! and uhhh don’t think i do? havent really talked to them since why

J: I get the strangest sense we’re supposed to know them more than we do. Had a really weird dream but it felt more like a lost memory. Think it’s an amulet thing, like that alternate timeline it made me live through once?

T: huh funky

J: Also supposedly according to the dream/memory both Aja and Krel are… not from Earth?

T: dude no offense but are you sure it wasnt just a normal dream

J: Seriously.?

J: Merlin turned me into a fucking TROLL and aliens are where you decide to draw the line

T: okay yknow thats fair

T: i take that back  

T: okay so,, aja and krel are MAYBE aliens. got that. go onnn

J: What I saw honestly felt so real, I swear. It was two weeks ago, at the science fair. We were fighting a troll in the planetarium with them, and the troll kept combining magic with some alien tech, which kept reversing everyone back to the beginning of the day, like a time loop or something. But I could remember everything bc of the amulet. Aja remembered bc of some energy shield she had. We lived through the same day almost a dozen times.

T: whoa…

J: And get this- in some of those loops we even went to their house and got to look around inside their spaceship! But none of us are supposed to recall any of it bc technically the entire day never happened? It’s how we defeated the troll, that bit’s a little fuzzy. A lot of technobabble sorry.

T: goddd out of all the days to forget huh

J: Right??

J: I guess… if she remembered all of this before I’m kinda curious if she still remembers now too. If it really happened. We were friends in that memory. It’d be nice to maybe get to know her again, y’know?

T: okay you’re prob gonna hate me for suggesting this but i THINK steve has her number

T: bc i was talking to darci and she said that mary told her that aja and steve are like, a thing now

T: a Thing thing

T: i believe her exact words were ‘staja’ ?

J: Oh my god how’d that happen is he even capable of proper flirting

T: well if shes an alien like you think then maybe she doesn’t know what human flirting looks like

J: Haha maybe indeed. I’ll go talk to him thanks

J: G’night Tobes love ya

T: night buddy <3

(my notes from ao3:)

Admission, I had far too much fun with the text format. I've never attempted anything like it, but I especially wanted to create unique "character voices" that extended into the way they each type- which was a cool challenge.

I imagined Toby as the sort of person who types out his thoughts far too quickly to care about punctuation, and IMO if Trollhunters was set just a year later (I generally just imagine it all set in 2016) he'd be keymashing. Jim is more of a full sentence type of guy who never turned off auto capitalization.

ALSO, a note on the contact photos- (Jim's which I directly took from a screenshot from Claire's phone, and Toby's which I edited from some 2D concept art)- That's the photo Jim uses for Toby's contact, and I imagine there's probably some inside joke where Jim took a really derpy photo of him at one point and they laughed so hard about it that he immortalized it as his contact. Jim's personal contact photo is... well, as this all takes place post s3 of course, a rather sad reminder of his loss of humanity. He can't bother himself to change it currently.

Future chapters will likely be a mix of text AND prose, instead of one or the other. Hope you enjoyed!

[dreamss-of-boston]

Rise - ch4

A/N: theres a lot of backstory in this one im sorryyyysdjkfghdkg but it will all make sense i promise this is all going towards the bigger picture lmfao love u bye

link on AO3!

“Beautiful, girl,” He said dreamily, his cigarette dangling out of his mouth precariously. “Pirouette again-- relax your neck more, darling.”

Sonya did as he asked-- the man in question being Alexander. She knew him by no other name, but she didn’t need to. The mere mention of his name was enough to give her butterflies.

There he sat, perched among the dim candlelight of Genie’s Palace. They were closed for now, but were set to open for the night in about half an hour. Sonya glided across the floor, stepping obediently in time to his whispered counting: “One, two, three, four, five, six.” She spun, her gaze glued to the post by the door, whipping around to stare back at it again as she finished her turn. Her feet were bruised, calloused, but her poise was incredible. As she gently dipped down, her leg following in a sweeping motion, Alexander placed a hand over his heart, letting out a sigh. When Sonya came to her finishing pose, her fingers placed just so, he graciously applauded her. She beamed, her cheeks flushed and heart racing.

“Just exquisite.” He murmured, running a hand through his light brown curly hair as he put out his cigarette.

“Exquisite?” Sonya repeated. She was but twelve, and already in love.

“It means…” Alexander pondered it for a moment. “Divine.”

“Divine.” Sonya said, tasting the word with a smile. She knew what that meant-- he had used it before, the last time he had come to visit. The man before her had been visiting since she was about four years old. He himself was a dancer, and took a liking to little Sonya the first time they met. All she knew about him was that he danced, was a frequent customer of her mothers, and that she was madly in love with him.

She still did not fully understand what her mother's job was-- she knew that her mother and all the other ladies flirted with the men who came in, and eventually took them upstairs to flirt with them some more. Sonya was not allowed upstairs, under any circumstances.

“You’d better put all that back before we open.” Herschel said sternly from the bar. She was glaring something fierce at Alexander, referencing how the two of them had shoved all of the chairs and tables to the edge of the room in order to create a makeshift dance floor. “Sonya, darlin, you’ll break your feet, dancin’ on your tippy-toes like that.”

“Never.” Sonya said with a gleeful twirl.

“Is Maria feeling better?” Alexander asked quietly, putting his hat back on.

Herschel didn’t answer at first; it was clear that neither she, nor any of the other girls of the brothel enjoyed Alexander’s presence. “She’s getting better.”

Sonya nodded. “Every day, mother seems to get stronger.”

Alexander placed a hand on her shoulder with a smile. “That’s good. Let her know I asked about her, will you?”

“Alexander,” Herschel sighed. “It’s better if we don’t mention you… for now. Until the sickness passes.”

Alexander said nothing, though Sonya could tell that he was hurt.

“Come, Sonya, let’s put the room back together.” He murmured, giving her a gentle pat.

[-]

The town outside the Survey Corps HQ was bustling with activity; it was late in the morning, yet the smell of breakfast food from nearby restaurants steamed the air deliciously. Lining the streets in all directions were carts selling fruits, vegetables, textiles, anything anyone could imagine.

Sonya was unashamedly in love with the surface world-- she had been since she was first brought above for training. Once Captain Levi had given her leave to take the day off, Sonya had changed out of her uniform into her civilian clothes: a simple white top she had sewn herself, with the sleeves coming down just below her elbow, and a deep red skirt that came down just below her knees. She rarely got to wear normal clothes, and while she loved the official demeanor she fell into while in uniform, it felt incredibly freeing to walk amongst the civilians of Trost without their stares and glares influenced by the varying opinions of the Survey Corps.

A little stand featuring whittled figurines caught her eye, and a pang of guilt rushed through Sonya as she thought of Anna. While her friend was rotting away in the forest, torn to pieces, Sonya was enjoying her time in the city. She looked away, already feeling tears stinging the back of her eyes.

“Pardon me, young lady,” An old woman called to her from her stand. Sonya, a little startled, slowly went over to her. “I couldn’t help but notice you look a bit sad.” The woman said, and gestured to her wares. “Perhaps a nice ribbon for your hair will lift your spirits-- I have a red one here that will go wonderfully with your skirt!”

Sonya, a little annoyed that her grief was being exploited for profit, allowed herself to be wooed by material items for the time being, grateful for the distraction.

“It is pretty,” She commented, holding the soft, delicate silk in her hands. Herschel would use ribbons like these to wrap around the back of men’s necks, to lure them closer. She smiled a little at the memory of Herschel teaching her one night, while they were closing up-- it was a funny little gesture, and Sonya remembered pulling away in embarrassment, giggling behind her hand.

“Don’t be shy, dearie!” Herschel laughed. “You’re so pretty, it’s a privilege to look at you up close.”

“You were gonna kiss me!” Sonya had justified, turning scarlet red-- as red as the ribbon. “I don’t know how to kiss.”

“It’s real easy, honey.” Herschel tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Want me to show you?”

And that was Sonya’s first kiss. A little juvenile, silly-- but she enjoyed kissing someone she trusted, and someone who cared for her deeply. For a fleeting moment, Sonya wondered what Herschel was up to now; she hoped she was still alive, at the very least.

“I’ll take it.” Sonya smiled. The old woman was delighted, but as Sonya reached into her bag to pay, a certain something caught her eye. “Wait,” She said. “How much for that?”

[-]

Maria took a lazy drag of her cigarette, her head resting in her hand as she stared out the window of the kitchen absently. There she and Sonya sat, at the table after Genie’s Palace had just closed. The street lamp flickered outside, giving some sort of semblance of atmosphere to their world. Sonya’s hands were folded in her lap, looking down in shame, as her cheek stung red from the strike of the woman who sat before her.

“You should’ve known,” Maria said finally, tapping the ash off of her cigarette. “Men who come in here… none of them are good.”

Sonya said nothing; she just bit her lip.

“He tried to use you, make you seem like you were better than this place.” Maria shook her head. “Down here, nobody is better than anybody. Remember that.”

“He said he could take me up there.” Sonya muttered, glancing at her sack of belongings by the door. A symbol of her failure to run away.

“What you say?” Maria said sharply, hooking Sonya with her drunken glare. After a moment, Sonya bravely met the eyes of her mother.

“He said I could be a dancer up there.” She repeated. “He said I have talent.” At sixteen, Sonya had only gotten more beautiful-- a clear mark of danger, being where she was.

“Oh, is that what he said?” Maria nodded. “Well, he said he loved me, and look where that got us.”

“...What?” Sonya’s voice cracked.

“Got us nothin’ but what we already have. He’s back up there… wooing some other poor girl into his sack.” Maria took another drag. “Men like him, they don’t keep their secrets. They don’t tell the truth. They just look at ya for as long as yer pretty, and when they get bored…” She took a swig of her dark drink, “they leave.”

Sonya sat in silence. She looked down, at her bruised and calloused feet. Her sore legs, arms-- the scuffed floors, everything around her was a mark of Alexander. She loved him… she loved him. And as she sat, wondering where her identity was if not strapped to him, she slowly realized that he did not and never would love her back.

[-]

The sun was setting by the time Sonya returned to HQ-- just in time for dinner. She trotted up the steps that led to the dining hall, and once she was inside, she decided she might make a cup of tea before she went to eat.

Walking down the hallway towards the small kitchen area where the tea was housed, she noticed that the door to it was slightly ajar; and inside, a candle was lit. As she came closer, she heard familiar voices speaking in hushed tones inside. Curiously, Sonya pushed the door open slowly and poked her head in.

Hange, Erwin, Levi, Eld and Moblit all sat at the table, leaning in to each other intently. As soon as Sonya was noticed, they halted their conversation and stared at her in surprise.

“Oh,” Sonya said, surprised to find them all gathered in there during dinner. She suspected she had stumbled into a conversation she should not have. “Um, I’m sorry-- excuse me…” She turned to leave.

“I told you we should have moved to Erwin’s office.” Levi sighed.

“No, wait,” Hange said, “everyone will find out tomorrow, anyway. Right, Erwin?”

“She’s trustworthy.” Moblit said, and Sonya got the feeling that she probably didn’t want to know what they were discussing, anyway. “And Hange’s probably going to explode if she doesn’t at least tell someone.”

“Really, it’s fine; I can go.” Sonya insisted.

But everyone waited on Erwin. He was staring at Sonya, studying her, with his hands folded on the table, his back straight. His expression betrayed nothing, and the more he looked at her, the smaller she felt. She shifted her feet, and couldn’t help but steal a glance at Levi, ever the picture of relaxation.

After an eternity, Erwin nodded.

“Oi, just close the door behind you, would you?” Levi said. “And be smarter than Moblit this time, and lock it behind you.”

Sonya smiled at that, amused to see her squad leader shoot a glare at Levi. She obediently sat after closing and locking the door, plopping her bag of wares beside her. Levi’s gaze followed her as she sat, his arms folded over his chest comfortably while a cup of tea sat steaming in front of him.

“Enjoy your day off, did you?” He murmured, though he didn’t seem judgmental-- perhaps pleased with himself?

“Very much.” Sonya nodded. “Thank you, again.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Don’t mess up your uniform on purpose in the hopes I’ll give you another day off.” He warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.” Sonya couldn’t seem to stop smiling.

Hange cleared her throat, her eyes darting between the two of them excitedly. “All right, can I tell her?”

“Hurry it up.” Levi scoffed.

“Sonya,” Hange said, almost buzzing with energy. “Our next expedition, which will take place in two weeks’ time, is going to be… historic.”

“Okay…” Sonya said cautiously.

“In two weeks, Sonya…” Hange clasped her hands together. “We will set out on an expedition to capture a titan!”