#it's hard to be one when the director suddenly decides to bring his own ideas into the adaptation and makes it modern looking

[soupnoodle]

my friend who went to see the new master and margarita movie, not familiar with the book: what the fuck is going on

me, watching the new master and margarita movie, familiar with the book: what the fuck is going on

[angelz-dust]

masters of none - part 4 (jason todd x reader)

summary: after many months, we are back in action and back in reader’s head. pls enjoy these jason crumbs. if you need a refresher on the plot, the other chapters will be linked below!

word count: 3.7k

warnings: food/eating. alcohol. cursing.

part 1 /// part 2 //// part 3

gravity

ever since i ever felt ya, right there life couldn't seem better. tulip flowers in my sweater. ask me now, is this forever?

…

you rested your chin on the table before you, your arms hanging limply between your knees as you listened to your manager, dana. you were really just watching her mouth open and close while she pointed at a powerpoint. god, what you would've given for an extra hour of sleep. the all nighters in the studio were starting to take a toll. 

the feeling of the back of daisy’s soft hands brought you back to earth. the smell of cocoa butter dancing beneath your nostrils as her smooth engagement ring rolled across your cheek. you breathed in her smell, exhaling in content through your nose.

“you good?” she mouthed and you closed your eyes, giving her a little nod. the bassist rubbed her calloused fingers against your forehead, pushing strands of your hair past your hairline. you pouted when she eventually pulled away, leaving you only with the sensation of touch that once was.

you heard tyler shift in his seat and then felt some air graze against your hand. you looked under the table, noticing he was holding something out to you. you two made eye contact briefly before you scooted back in, grabbing what felt like an envelope. looking down at your lap, you saw a sticky note attached to it. jason’s money was what it said. you carefully put the envelope in your jacket pocket, sitting back in your seat now and looking at dana’s powerpoint. she was going over reports from your publicist, jerry, which you didn't particularly care about.

“now, i have to ask,” dana’s words pierced your bubble of inattention. “have you all thought about what i said about this next album?”

jordy raised his hand like a school kid. “yes?”

“y/n and i decided that we'd be okay with making our album a group project. it has been, admittedly, kinda hard and boring without everyone else. we’d honestly be doing ourselves a disservice by not doing it together,” jordy explained, dana clapping her hands together.

“wonderful,” she nodded, keeping her hands clasped. “i know you two were excited to do your own thing, but i was talking to jerry and he was really pressing me to get a group album from you guys. the people wanna see you guys as a unit of established artists, which you all are. so what's the concept? we never discussed it.”

“uh,” you verbally paused, raising your arms above your head to stretch. “disco, jazz, and funk. it's a mix of those.”

“retro is in right now,” dana nodded, pacing around the room. “how far back will this set us on a release date?”

you grimaced, leaning back in your seat, the back of the seat lightly bouncing as it absorbed your weight. you pondered the question for a moment. “if it’s gonna be a group thing, it'll have to be significantly longer. we have a decent starting off point but i'm gonna need way more songs now.”

“what about the rest of you? any tracks that we could swing?” dana asked, looking at the rest of the group. 

grabbing a pen and piece of scrap paper, you started jotting down notes as everyone spoke out to you. dex and quinton didn’t have anything, but they wouldn’t be a problem. you just needed to give them a beat to rap over and you’d be set. the twins had a finished song already that fit the concept, which was good. with tyler’s voice and aly’s excellent song writing abilities, you doubted very seriously that anything else needed to be done to it. daisy and hector had plenty of lyricless songs, too. funk and soul was their specialty, after all. misha even had a demo track she was willing to share. 

you looked over the notes you had taken, tapping your pen on the table as you hummed to yourself. “this could probably work. we’ll need to go over everything in the studio, though.”

“we should just do it now. no one is doing shit else today, right?” dex asked the group, who all shook their head. 

“i have a request,” you raised your finger, looking at dana. “i want gotham to be involved in this project.”

“gotham…” dana repeated slowly, unsure of what you meant. “care to elaborate?”

“music videos directed by student directors from gotham university, commissioning local artists for album art. dancers, actors, musicians, whatever. all of them have to be from gotham. i don't want any of the money we put into this project leaving this city,” you stated firmly, dana giving you a blank look. 

“i like that idea,” hector said, giving you a kind smile before turning to dana, shifting in his seat. the drummer was like a big brother, always backing you up in moments like these. “accessibility to the arts is really limited here and we should change that.”

“i’d rather give back to the city, too,” quinton agreed, playing with the gold cross hanging from his neck. “we’re one of the only groups in gotham known outside of gotham. we should use that as an opportunity to rep our city.”

“it sounds like you have your minds made up on this,” dana narrowed her eyes, letting out a sigh. “it would definitely be good PR.”

“because god forbid we do something out of the kindness of our hearts,” misha laughed, rolling her eyes. “we're trying to put the city on and you're worried about how it makes us look.”

“that's my job, misha. don't you want me to do my job?” dana retorted. “besides, i'm more concerned with the funding. you all don't have disposable income, believe it or not.”

“but i know someone who does,” she said with a singsong tone, giving you a look.

“i hope you're not referring to me,” you deadpanned. your income was far from disposable.

“i’m referring to our good friend, bruce wayne,” she explained, grabbing a business card out of her purse, handing it over to dana. “ever since i got invited to that charity gala, i've had a direct line to a representative with the wayne foundation. i say we ask them to help fund the project.”

“now that could work,” dana admitted, eyeing the card as she tapped her foot. “if we pitch for more youth involvement, it'll probably go over better. we all know how much bruce wayne loves saving the children.”

you frowned at how dana described bruce’s initiatives as a philanthropist. you were sure his motivations for favoring youth projects were good intentioned, considering his parents had been killed when he was just a little boy. you wanted to go into this good intentioned, too and you hoped that they'd agree. they being the wayne foundation and subsequently, bruce himself.

“ty and quinton could do something with forrester. if we’re going for the youth involvement route, i mean,” aly spoke up. 

“forrester correctional. our old stomping grounds,” quinton sighed wistfully as he patted tyler on the shoulder. “i think that would be a good idea.”

“they use the arts as an outlet for them, so it could be beneficial for everyone,” tyler nodded. “there are a lot of good kids there. just unfortunate circumstances, that’s all.”

“wasn’t one of bruce’s son’s a troublemaker before he was adopted?” aly continued, not noticing the look you and tyler shared. “i’m sure he’d probably be interested in doing something with them if his son comes from the same background.”

“it’s settled, then. you all keep working on the music. jerry and i will handle the rest. we need this album out before hector and daisy’s wedding,” dana said, grabbing her suitcase. 

…

hey, i have your money. did you still want it?

you stared down at the unsent message, your thumb floating over the send arrow. you hadn’t spoken to jason since that night after the race, as per his request. your mind kept wandering back to it, even as time still went on. what happened was scary, to say the least. fun, but scary. you wondered how the hell jason didn’t get the two of you killed. that part, you didn't want to think about too hard. everyone in gotham had their secrets and it was an unspoken rule amongst citizens to not pry. secrets were secrets for a reason. nothing good ever came from unearthing them.

speaking of secrets, you hadn't exactly told tyler and quinton what happened that night. not in detail. you conveniently left out the chase and stopping to get something to eat. omitting the first part was obvious, but the second one was for your own sanity. you didn't need them teasing you over nothing. besides, all that mattered was no one was dead or arrested. and for the way the three of you used to get down, that was a win. 

you considered texting jason earlier this week, just to check in on him, but you decided against it. he obviously wanted you to text him and you obviously had to do the opposite. his little mind game wasn’t going to work on you. you pressed send, frowning immediately as you did so.

maybe it already had.

“it’s too many people in this bitch,” dex sighed, the cold of the water bottle you had asked him for against your hand bringing you back to reality. blinking, you were suddenly very aware of the chaos surrounding you in the studio as you put your phone back in your pocket. you looked to your left, where jordy was leaning against the wall and scrolling through his phone. to your right was aly, who was scribbling in her songbook in the chair next to you. you remembered you were supposed to be working, too. “we need a new stu.”

“i’m working on it!” hector hollered from inside the booth as he and daisy were setting up equipment and instruments. you glanced up at the glass in front when you heard his voice, accidentally catching the pair share a little kiss. you quickly averted your gaze, smiling to yourself.

“new stu, new view, what it do?” quinton began to freestyle to a beat he was making on the coffee table in front of him. “off 92, posted up with southside crew.” 

“okay,” dex laughed, noddinh his head as he was vibing with the beat, making his way out of your line of sight. you heard someone, presumably tyler, join in and add some depth to the beat. it sounded like he was hitting a pencil against a shot glass.

“i got a new boo, but i’m tryna slide with misha, too,” quinton continued, dex adlibbing in the back as quinton lowered his voice to his signature melodic whisper. “on the low, nobody gotta know.”

“would you shut the fuck up?” you heard misha say, followed by a barrage of muffled smacking noises and verbal objections from quinton, who you assumed was on the receiving end of what sounded like an assault by pillow.

laughing to yourself, you leaned your head in aly’s direction, not fully facing her. “pass me the flash drive?” you held your hand out weakly. once you felt the plastic in your palm, you leaned back over and put it into the computer, pulling up the proper files. 

“we’re done back here,” daisy smiled at you, she and hector coming out from the booth. 

you clapped your hands together. “wonderful. everybody shut up, please.”

you pulled up the twin’s song and let it play, your eyes fixed on the colorful audio loops on the screen. the green ones were tyler’s vocals, the purple were aly’s. it looked like blue was reserved for instruments and red was any added sound effects or layered sounds. 

“you two sound really great,” jordy walked up behind aly’s seat, leaning against it as he swayed his head to the beat. 

“thanks. i wrote it with our mother in mind,” aly said, the words coming out of her mouth uncomfortably. you placed your hand on hers and gave it a little squeeze, which earned you a look of appreciation.

“it's missing something, though,” tyler scratched the back of his head. “i need the producer squad to give us some assistance.”

“oh, say less,” dex laughed, snapping his fingers to the beat with one hand and holding his glass of hennessy in the other. he danced his way over, taking aly’s seat as she, tyler and jordy moved to give you all some space. 

misha sauntered her way over, sitting against the table and flipping her hair over her shoulder. the smell of her sweet perfume floated in the air around you. “i think it just needs some fluffing up. some snapping might work. more vocal layering in certain spots.”

“i agree,” you nodded, dex letting out a satisfied sigh as he took a sip of his cold drink. 

“is it good?” misha asked him teasingly and he took his final swig, letting out a more dramatic and drawn out sigh. this time, though, it was on beat with the song. you were pretty sure it was unintentional on his part, since he and misha just shared a laugh before returning their attention to the screen.

after a moment of pondering, you swiveled around in your chair, looking at tyler. “okay, hear me out…”

…

two weeks of very diligent working between the nine of you had given you a lot to work with for the album. all that was left was to start putting things together. you still had a ways to go, but you had a good starting off point. as much as you hated to admit it, it was a good call on dana’s part to have you all do a group album. the fans seemed to be greatly anticipating the release and the work ethic the nine of you shared was incredible. even in that cramped little studio, you all made it work.

you all agreed to take the day off, but you were still working at some capacity. you had just traded one small space for another, working in your walk-in closet/home studio for the day. you still needed said walk-in to function as a closet, so there were still garment bags pushed up into a corner and shoe boxes haphazardly stacked, surrounding your desk that you had shoved in there. there was just enough space for you to move your chair and safely get out without twisting an ankle, a fate you often flirted with in that room.

in the spirit of your day off, you hadn't done anything too difficult. you were just trying to decide what order you wanted the completed songs to go in. it may seem like an insignificant detail, but the order was important. the transitions between songs couldn't be jarring for the listener. everything had to flow together with natural progression. at this point, it didn't matter since you weren't done with the album, but it was just giving you an idea of how to fill the gaps with future songs. 

the sound of your growling stomach indicated that it was time to stop for the day. you quickly saved all your work and headed to the kitchen. you popped some leftovers in the microwave and scrolled on twitter while you waited. the microwave beeped at you, so you set your phone back down and grabbed the bowl, mixing up the contents with your fork. the flash of light coming from your phone got your attention. a text notification.

are you home?

oh, so now he wanted to respond? cute.

despite your annoyance with the situation, you quickly responded with a yes and set the phone back down. you leaned against the counter, eating what little food you had in your reheated bowl. you mixed the contents around with your fork, grumbling. stupid jason and his stupid inability to text back. he could have at least had the decency to leave you on read. he probably didn't even have read receipts on. you weren't sure which was worse. tossing your now empty bowl into the sink, you grabbed your phone to read his next message.

i’ll be over soon. 

soon was very vague and you wished that you would've demanded an exact time, but that opportunity had passed by the time you thought about it. you busied yourself with tidying up, trying to make your place look presentable. you even lit your new candle, which you found yourself focusing your attention on while you waited for him to show up. staring at the flame was much more entrancing than you anticipated.

you heard the door buzzer go off. you weren't expecting anyone else, so it had to be him. you leaned against the wall, pressing your finger to the button.

“who goes there?” you presented the question as a joke, but your tone was a little flat.

“it’s the irs,” jason’s voice came through and you buzzed him in. 

not too long after, you heard him knock on the door. you cracked it open and the first thing you noticed was his cologne. it was a strong but pleasant scent. spicy and sweet. it was very intoxicating, actually. so much so that you almost forgot you were angry at him.

“hi.”

“hello.”

you opened the door fully and handed the envelope to him. jason eyed it suspiciously. he opened it up and began to count it out in front of you. he made an effort to do it very slow, the sound of the crisp dollars echoing in the quiet hall. his eyes stayed glued to yours as he counted out loud. you leaned against the doorframe as you watched.

“six… seven… eight,” he said, pulling out his wallet and stuffing it with the cash. “thought you would've skimmed some off the top.”

“i should have with how long you made me wait,” you said matter of factly, letting your annoyance be known now. 

“i know. i’m sorry,” he sounded honest but you couldn't see it in his face or in his eyes, which was worrisome. it was a nice alternative to listening to a sputter of excuses, though. “let me make it up to you?”

“how do you plan on doing that?”

“i’m so glad you asked,” he smiled. “as it turns out, i've recently come into some money. let me spend it on you?”

“so you like throwing money at your problems?” you asked him. well, you weren't really asking. it was more like you were telling him. 

“no,” he said, sounding a little offended. “i just thought-”

“you just thought that throwing money at me would make me forget about the fact that you ignored me for a month.”

“no, no,” he shook his head, sighing in frustration. “listen, i-”

“i really don't wanna hear it,” you said honestly, watching as his frustrated look turned into kicked puppy. you almost felt bad. “i don't like feeling stupid, jason. that's how i feel right now. i want you to make it up to me but you'll have to be a bit more creative than this.”

“you want me to make it up to you?” jason had repeated, confusion on his face. 

you poked him harshly in the chest. “you do that or you leave me alone. those are your options. goodbye.”

you shut the door in his face and let out the breath you were holding in. you weren’t sure how jason was going to react to your little ultimatum, but those were your terms. you liked him but you weren’t going to stress over someone you barely knew, especially with your assumptions about him floating around in your head. 

“i’ll be right back,” you heard him say through the door, catching you off guard. 

“what?”

“don’t go anywhere.”

you didn’t respond but you heard his footsteps getting quieter as he walked down the hall. the elevator ding indicated that he had left. you stood there, confused as to what it was he was trying to do. you were still stewing in your negative emotions, so you went and busied yourself again. you decided the dishes needed washing and got on it right away. in the middle of scrubbing the stubborn sauce stains out of your plate, you heard your door buzzer go off again. 

so he did come back after all. interesting.

you buzzed him in like you did before and waited by the door for him. he knocked and when you opened it, you were met with two gifts: a bouquet of pink tulips and a small box of something from the bakery around the corner. 

“i shouldn’t have ignored you. it was rude and stupid and i’m sorry. it won’t happen again,” he said to you, holding out the items to you. you hesitantly accepted them, taking the opportunity to look through the plastic opening of the box to see chocolate covered strawberries. 

“it better not happen again,” you pouted, looking up at him. you had to appreciate the effort he put in at such short notice. it was a sweet gesture and he actually looked sorry this time. 

“it won’t,” he assured you and you smiled.

“i forgive you. but you’re on thin fucking ice,” you reminded him and he grinned at you with a nod.

“i’m going to make it up to you. just you wait,” he said confidently. “not all of us are naturally creative like you, though. you gotta give me some time to think of something else.”

“seems like you’re getting your feet wet with the flower selection,” you noted, taking a whiff of the delicate and fresh scent. they’d look nice on your coffee table.

“lady at the shop said they would convey my sincerest apologies,” he explained, a hopeful look in his eyes. “did it work?”

“for now,” you shrugged, setting the items down on the table next to the door. 

“i can accept that.”

“you’re gonna have to because that’s all i’m giving you,” you said firmly. his charm wasn’t going to get him out of this one. not completely. “now go away. i want to eat my berries in peace.”

“i’ll text you as soon as i get the chance,” he told you as you were shutting the door. you peered at him, narrowing your eyes before shutting it again. “i’m serious!”

“goodbye, jason!” you said through the door. you heard his faint farewell as you walked away, plopping on the couch with your dessert in hand.

were you still a little mad at him? yes. but you weren’t going to pass up free stuff, even if you had made all that fuss about the money earlier. at least the gifts had some thought behind them. so long as he held up his end of the deal, you had a feeling being friends with jason wouldn’t be that bad.

hopefully, anyway.

[amor-immortalem]

Everything Undesired chapter 12

chapter 11

Warning: kidnapping

A/N: I hope y'all are ready for a very heavy chapter because toward the end our Greed boi is going to go to a very dark place with his real thoughts on Cyrus.

“Do you think he does?” Belphie asked as he watched his older brother feed the baby.

“It would make sense.” The second-born shrugs. “I think Lucifer realized it too ‘n that’s why he was in such a big hurry for Beel and him to leave.”

The seventh-born only nods in response. “Hey I heard you three are going up to the mortal world after the term... Is that true?”

“Yeah... ‘Rella says she wants to go back to her home in York. I like the idea- been there a couple times with her after Solomon taught her to summon us. It’s nice. Hardly anybody stops by so it should be relaxin’ ‘n maybe it’ll do the baby some good to get away from the house for a bit.”

“More power to you, since we don’t know a whole lot about what kind of nutrients cambions need to begin with, it’ll probably be good for him to get some sunlight, I guess. Hey, why’re you holding the bottle that way? Doesn't it make more sense to hold it higher so he finishes eating faster?”

“Nah, any higher and he could take too much and inhale it while he’s eating. Learned that out the hard way with Satan. Plus, lowers your chances of gettin' spat up on.”

“It’s crazy that you stepped up like that for him... How did you do it?” The Avatar of Sloth leans his head against Mammon’s shoulder.

“Lots of sleepless nights and lots of coffee- I swear, m’blood probly consisted of just coffee back then,” Mammon pulls the bottle away from Cyrus after he had finished eating and started to burp him, “at least for those first few months anyway.”

“I’m not surprised,” Belphie hums.

“S'why our rooms are right next to each other. That way I wasn’t having to risk poppin’ my stitches runnin’ through the halls just t’get to him before he could wake any of y’all up. Man, that thing took forever t’heal. Not t’mention it kept getting infected since between watchin’ out for the lil’ ball of wrath that was our brother ‘n school, ‘n plannin’ Lilith’s service, I only had the time t’really take care of it when I showered save for the rare moments I had to change my bandages...” Mammon is silent for a moment, “I don’t regret it though. Gettin' to see him grow up to become a strong demon and knowing I made that possible, makes it all the reward itself.”

The younger brother only nods as he notices the infant’s eyes were glued to him- more specifically at his face. “What’re you staring at, kid? Do I have something on my face?”

“Nah, it’s just a thing babies do around this age. Its more about learning faces and facial expressions right now,” The older brother explains.

“Considering what you went through, you seem awfully calm now when you deal with him.”

“It's parental instinct and nothing more right now. Think of it as your body moving on its own. If I’m being honest with you, it’s still kind of hard- especially when he gets clingy like this but I think I’m gettin' better with him- acceptin' reality for what it is and learning to bond with him. Believe me, Belphie this isn’t how I wanted to have my first kid, but,” Mammon lets out a depressed sigh, “I’m a father now... and that means I have to suck it up and get my shit together. It’s what he deserves at the very least.”

“Wow, I guess what they say is true, huh? You really do change your ways once you have a kid.”

“Whatcha mean by that? I feel like I should feel insulted...”

“Sorry, it wasn’t meant to come out that way, Mams... It’s just that it feels like you’ve changed. Before all this, there wasn’t a single day where you went without thinking of easy ways to make a quick grimm, not a day where we didn’t have to take inventory of our stuff in fear that you had stolen something valuable of ours, went on massive shopping sprees whenever you could, but now... now, you don’t do any of that. It’s like you grew up somehow... like you’re back to how you were when we were angels and how you were way back when we had just fallen and your sin hadn’t quite settled in yet, you know?”

“Let’s just say priorities have changed...”

“Well, whatever the reason, it’s a nice change. I’m going to head to bed now. See you around.” Belphie smiled as he got up and left.

“See ya, Belphie.”

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

He doesn’t remember how long he sat with Cyrus until the little one fell asleep against his chest, but once he placed the infant in the crib, he just stood there, lost in dark thoughts.

“It’s funny...” The white-haired demon’s voice was hardly above a whisper, “I should resent your presence in my life- wish you were never born, hate you. The worst part of me- the scummy part of me- does. You took everything that I was reserving for my child with Arella and you’re a representation of everything your birth mother did to me but... I can’t- and that’s what I hate most about you. Maybe my reason for keepin’ you comes from a fear that I won’t have the guts to risk my mate’s life that way so I just took the closest alternative I could ever get to that... I know... I know I’m being selfish by keeping her for myself as long as I can and not giving her that family with me she wants so badly and it makes me angry to watch her give a child that’s not even hers so much love when you shouldn’t have ever existed in the first place... Now it's far too late to get rid of you without hurting her.... I made the wrong choice for me even though I know ultimately it was the right one for you.”

He bit his tongue as a snarl formed on his face. Here, with no one to hear him, Mammon would let out his true feelings as wrong as it was. As if letting them out would somehow change his feelings for this child.

“For now, I’ll lie and pretend for your sake and everyone else’s. No one will ever know the way I wish Lucifer just would have done away with ya and part of me wonders... if a lower demon were to attack you and none of my brothers or Arella were there to spur me to action, would I even bother to protect you or would I dare to act selfishly and just let you die? Let the problem resolve itself? Ya better prove that you were ever worth what I’ve been putting myself through in the first pla-”

A sudden bout of clarity strikes the demon, the weight of what he had just said hit him like a stack of bricks and suddenly he can’t breathe. Oh devils, he can’t breathe under the weight of it all. Was he really that messed up in the head that he would do this to his own child? That he would force Cyrus to earn his love when he knows he should just give it to him unconditionally? What happened to all that progress he thought he’d been making? What kind of father would that make him? His eyes widened in horror at the thought as he broke down in silent tears.

How unfit of a father am I? He thought, He’s my son and I can’t even bring myself to love him? I really am the worst scum of the devildom. I’ve been holding some kind of grudge against a baby for crying out loud! Is this how I would act if Arella and I had a kid and they killed her?! The thought terrifies him. He wanted so badly to be a father and now that he was, this is the way he reacted to it? Unforgivable. Mammon remembered how it felt to fight for his father’s love and how he felt when Arella told him about her horrible mother and he felt so disgusted with it but wasn’t he just the same?

As he sank down to his knees, he felt a tiny hand grasp one of his fingers and his head snapped up. There was his son who had managed to wiggle his way closer to the edge of the crib, watching him with eyes full of what appeared to be fear. It froze his blood to see that look on anyone, let alone his own child. Without thinking, the Avatar of Greed rushes forward, scoops the child up and holds his son close to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers as fresh tears begin to fall. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” Apologies tumble from his mouth in between choked sobs. “I said all those terrible things to ya. I don’t mean them. I don’t.” He doesn’t know who he’s trying to convince more at this point. Was it himself or his son? “I love ya. I love ya. I love ya. I’ll change. I’ll do anything I can for you- give you everything ya deserve.”

The baby only cooed softly, trying so hard to lift his head up, but with the way his father was held his head to his chest left no other option but for Cyrus to pat his hands against his father’s chest.

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

Over the coming years, Mammon held true to his word on that dark night. He embraced his son fully and finally formed a deep bond with him. There were some good days, some bad, but never once had the demon let his mind wander back to that dark place of hate and malice. At some point, the Avatar of Greed was even able to move past the rape all together and he felt completely at peace with everything that had happened to bring his son into his life. He and Arella had even decided to take the chance to bring a new life into this world and were now expecting a set of twins. Everything felt right. But peace is never lasting for demons and Mammon has always been unlucky.

It was five minutes. Five. Damn. Minutes. Mammon should have known better. Cyrus had gone with his father to one of his photoshoots. Typically, he kept the boy in his sights at all times but this time he allowed his director to turn his attention elsewhere for a better shot from a different angle. When the demon turned back to check on his child, Cyrus was nowhere to be seen and the Avatar of Greed panicked. It was only five minutes but he was gone. He hoped the little one had just gone off to use the bathroom and would be back shortly, but after a few minutes of nervous waiting, Cyrus never reappeared.

The whole set went into a frenzy searching for the child but he was nowhere to be found in the building. Mammon wanted to scream. How could he have let this happen? His child was taken. The white-haired demon couldn’t even finish the photoshoot as he dashed out the door searching- looking for any possible trail that would lead him to Cyrus, but there was nothing. Not even a scent trail to follow. He feels his heart break as horrible thoughts ran rampant through his head. That crushing weight from five years earlier was back.

With shaking hands, he pulled out his D.D.D. from his pocket and called his older brother. Told him everything that happened. How he let his child be abducted because he got careless, how he’s searched every conceivable place he could think of. After that, the entire family mobilized. Levi ordered his Navy to search for the boy, other smaller search parties were formed as well but nothing ever came of them. They even asked Solomon to search the mortal world and there were some leads but that too led to dead ends.

Mammon, Arella and the rest of the Avatars were left heartbroken by the loss. Not even with the birth of their twins were the parents able to find peace. Six months went by, then a year, then three- after five, the searches were called off. His body was never found, which left everyone with hope. It was hope that Mammon would hold onto until he was left with no other choice.

———————————————————————-

Next

There’s one more part left: an epilogue stay tuned folks.

Find more on my masterlist

[iluvyou-xoxo]

high

suna x reader

wc: 2.2k

you were completely in over your head. sure, you had the occasional blunt at a high school party or kickback, but never have you been to something like this.

your senior project about the film industry was just proven wrong as the girls next to you snorted a line off the kitchen countertop. in your suburban neighborhood, the parties portrayed in television or cinema were only that: something that directors and script writers created as they continued to fetishize the high school experience. your paper talked about how odd it was that films focused on the loss of innocence during those four years of hell and how extremely inaccurate the portrayal was.

but here you stand at your first college party since attending university for only about a month now. it was exactly as pictured in every movie that you once would have called “stupid as fuck", and now you wish you had paid more attention. 

everyone seemed to of had experience in these types of gatherings while you stood next to the sink with a red solo cup filled with only water. your roommate had dragged you to this frat house because she had to meet with her dealer and would much rather do it in a public setting. her smart decision was only your downfall as she had begged you to come too, yet ditched you fifteen minutes ago to go find him even though she said she'd be back in five.

a tall lean figure walked past you but it wasn't his perfect physique that got your attention, it was the strong scent of weed that clung to the cotton of his hoodie. once you looked up to see the ethereal face of rintarō suna, you immediately recognized him as your roommates plug and decided to ask him if he has seen your roommate that seemed to have gone m.i.a. while looking for the person only a foot away from you.

“excuse me,” you called out much louder than how you would usually speak, but the base of the speakers drowned out your voice. although suna had heard you, he didn't look around just in case you were trying to capture someone else's attention. when you timidly tapped the back of his arm with your index finger it was unmistakable you weren’t asking for anyone else.

he slowly turned around and looked down at you with a bored expression and a red flask in his left hand, “yeah?”

“i'm y/n, and I was wondering if you have seen himari; she's my roommate,” you quickly asked as you removed your hand from his soft hoodie that hid the hard muscle underneath.

“oh uh yeah...” suna said, unsure of what else to say.

“well, she said that she was supposed to meet with you quickly but it's been over fifteen minutes now and she hasn't responded to my texts.”

quickly he understood what you were asking, “we met up like ten minutes ago but right now I think she's hooking up with my friend aran.”

instead of responding, you looked down and a small frown pulled the edge of your lips in realization that the person that asked you to come for protection had left you even though she knew this was your college first party— hell, your first real party.

before you had the chance to decide on either waiting for himari to finish or to take your chances walking alone to your dorm room, suna lightly grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the kitchen. the two of you weaved through the bustling function until you reached the front yard that was littered with cups and bottles.

“aran said that he'd meet up with me as soon as they're done so we can just chill in my car ‘til then,” suna said slightly ahead of you with your hand still placed lightly in his as the two of you continued walking.

you were completely sober, yet his skin touching yours had your head spinning and all the danger signs that would have flashed in your head seemed of cut off when you were with him. although this was the first time you've ever conversed with suna, you had a slight crush on the middle blocker that you had seen in school games a few times.

the both of you approached a black car that flashed twice indicating that suna had opened the doors. to your dismay, he let go of your hand and walked to the driver's side as you made your way to the passengers. once inside he pulled out his phone to play some rap song that you had never heard of before and pulled up the middle console to reveal a mason jar with four pre-rolled blunts inside.

“you wanna smoke, doll?” the mysterious man asked.

“i don't have any money on me,” you responded quietly, shifting your gaze to the window next to you. a muffled chuckle interrupted your mile-a-minute thoughts and turned you to see suna show more expression than you had ever seen him hold before.

“baby, you don't need to pay if i offer it to you,” he explained with a light laugh at the end of his sentence. wow, his laugh is beautiful.

“oh, well okay then,” you reply timidly as you watch him take off the lid and reach over to pull a lighter out of the glove compartment.

he takes the first few hits, quickly putting your mind at ease in case it was laced or something, and then brings the joint to you. next, you take two pulls and pass it back, the cycle continuing until the car is filled with smoke and the blunt is near its end.

the silence between you two is comforting as there was no need for awkward conversation. it was just two people in a cloudy car, vibing to one of the many chill playlists that suna had. the weed had hit you full force and you suddenly started to chuckle while thinking about how happy you were that your annoying roommate ditched you, even though in any other circumstance you would be livid.

suna was just appreciating the calm that marijuana gave him until your laughter filled the car. his eyes that naturally hung low seemed to have deepened as he slowly looked over to you and poked your cheek with his pointer finger. “watcha’ laughin’ about?”

your smile didn't leave your face as you looked over to the most beautiful person you have ever laid your eyes upon. “oh nothing,” you said slyly as your smile seemed to only intensify.

“oh really?” he asked while slowly shifting towards you

“yep, really,” you said, but this time closed your eyes with a big smile still plastered to your face.

rather than saying anything else, suna only chuckled and placed a hand on your thigh while shifting in his seat so his head leaned back on the headrest. the small action made you're heart leap and eyes open again and you found suna with a calm look on his face with his eyes closed and head tilted slightly back.

his peaceful face made you realize that he has probably taken many people to his car for a smoke and called them endearing nicknames. rather than feeling dread, something you were sure to have experienced if you were sober, you came to terms that this would be your only chance to be close like this with him again. before you could even think twice about it, you reached over the middle console to grab his cheek and quickly brought his lips to yours.

either he had experienced this situation many times before or he had expected it, because he immediately kissed you back and not a single muscle tensed at the sudden move on your part. his lips slowly moved with yours and met your tongue with his own.

soon you got frustrated because even though you were making out he wasn't doing much else. you thought that by now he would understand that you wanted him to take you on the backseat, but he kept the pace slow and his hands stayed in safe places, one holding your mid-thigh and the other on the side of your neck.

you broke your lips from his and even though that pace had been slow, he somehow still managed to take your breath away. “suna, do you not want to touch me?” you asked with insecurity leaking into your tone unknowingly.

“baby, i don't fuck people unless they’re sober,” he said with a slight smile as he looked at you. although you completely understood where this was coming from, you couldn't help the frustrated whine that left your lips.

“then why did you offer to smoke if you knew we wouldn't do it afterward?” you looked down to his lap to he was definitely hard, but his face didn't give anything away.

“well i wasn't really looking to get in your pants just yet, but no need to worry babe, we can always pick up where we leave off,” next suna placed his hand on your cheek and began softly rubbing it.

three hard knocks on the driver's side window grabbed both of your attention. there stood a tall man with beautiful deep skin and you instantly recognized him as aran from the volleyball team.

suna rolled down the window and although most of the smoke had dissipated throughout your make-out session, the final bit remaining went out and drifted into the midnight sky.

“suna please tell me you're ready to go now. i can't keep stalling her forever,” aran said as he let out an exasperated sigh.

“where is she now?” suna asked with slight frustration.

“well, she was dancing with a few of her other friends so i decided to run out and see how you're doing out here. do you need more time?”

normally you would mind your business but now you seemed to let the thoughts you hold fall from your lips. “what are you guys talking about?”

“nothing baby, don't worry about it,” suna brushed you off quickly.

“c’mon suna, i can tell that this is going well since you’ve been in here for almost half an hour,” aran pressed. “i'm pretty sure you're going to have to tell her eventually anyway.”

“okay now i’m really confused” you replied.

suna stayed silent while glaring and aran, but aran only smiled at you while slightly shaking his head. “this boy has had me distracting your roommate while he tried to sneak in some alone time with you.”

the idea of suna, the most handsome boy in all of japan, creating a plan just to talk to you made you almost want to laugh at how farfetched it was. but shortly after glancing at suna to find him holding a slight blush on his cheeks and shooting his friend a glare, you understand that this was actually the truth.

there's an awkward silence between the three of you and aran was the first to break it. “well i'm gonna dip real quick, but i’m only stalling her for five more minutes so you better wrap this up.”

he quickly turns away and walks back into the party as suna rolls the window up again refusing to make eye contact with you.

“do you like me?” you cut quickly to the chase as your excitement can barely be contained.

suna has yet to meet your eyes but when he nods his head indicating yes you smile brightly at him and quickly place your hand upon his thigh to grab his attention. “you know, you should have just said ‘hi’ to me around campus or something; i like you too.”

when he looks up he holds a sheepish smile and is still dusted pink from embarrassment. “oh shut up and hand me your phone, we don't have much time and i need your number.”

wordlessly you hand your phone over once it's unlocked and on to your contact app.

“well your friend is waiting for you, aran should have already called an uber for you guys”

“well are you going to tell me how you knew id be coming tonight for this elaborate plan to seduce me?” you asked flirtatiously and in a teasing manner.

quickly, suna cupped your jaw and squeezed your cheeks together forming an adorable pout on your face, slowly making ‘tsk’ noises while swaying your head left to right.

“it's time for you to go now, sweetheart. i’m gonna text you later so we can plan a date and maybe ill let you know then.”

your eyes quickly light up at the word ‘date’ and you lightly nod with a smile forming on your face. as soon as he lets you go you lean forward to place a final kiss upon his lips and walk out of the car.

once you finally find himari, you get her into the awaiting uber, wave goodbye to aran, and tell the driver your address. the smile you hold doesn't seem to let up for the rest of the night and once you're tucked in bed at around three in the morning your smile only intensifies at the glow of your phone that holds two new text messages.

maybe: suna- hey, this is suna

maybe: suna- i have a game tomorrow and was wondering if you'd come..?

—————

date: march 18th, 2021

[yoolee]

Actual, real world advice from Lee: Useful corporate phrases

I have no idea if anyone still checks this blog, and if they do, this has nothing to do with what usually gets posted, but I’ve done two of these, so here’s a third!

“Thanks, you’ve given me something to think about.”

Use it: When you get feedback you don’t agree with - especially if you have an immediate emotional reaction to it.

Why: Because it acknowledges but doesn’t agree. Basically buys you time to react privately without damaging the relationship. Immediately (and emotionally) jumping into telling someone why they’re wrong is only going to strain the relationship. When you’re getting feedback, you want the other person to feel heard (science says even having the opportunity to air negative feelings makes people feel more positively about the thing). That doesn’t mean you have to AGREE. This statement lets you acknowledge, while buying you time to process. This also gives you an out on things like opinions people have on presentations or projects: if they bring it up later you can say you thought about it, but decided to keep what you had because A/B/C and by then you’ll have had time to craft an ironclad response. 

“I can’t, I have a prior commitment.”

Use it: When you’re being asked to work hours that your coworkers aren’t, or that you are not part of your regular schedule, or, you know, when you have a prior commitment and don’t want to give details.

Why: Your time is your time and you don’t owe an explanation! Yes, it’s important to be a team player, and it’s important to be flexible and get the work done when it needs to get done, bit if you’re in a situation where, say, a parent isn’t asked to come in the weekend because your boss knows they have kids, and you are because they know you don’t, draw the line. There’s often a temptation to justify unavailability (lie and say doctor’s appointment, family event, traveling) but you do not owe justification for your time being your own, and not wanting to take the burden of additional responsibility without additional compensation in return. Being in the habit of not providing justification will come in handy if you ever don’t want to disclose something later (eg, private appointment, interview at another workspace) - it won’t seem suspicious that you’re suddenly being vague. 

“The goal/outcome for this meeting is...”

Use it: When you’re running a meeting.

Why: You would be amazed how different everyone’s perceptions of their role in a meeting are, and setting expectations so obviously may feel silly but wow it helps. Let’s say I schedule a 1:1 with my boss. I just call it, Lee/Boss 1:1. I walk in and start venting about how Coworker is always late in responding to my emails. What does my boss do? In this case, my boss doesn’t know if I want them to fix my problem, if I want them to just let me air my grievances, or if I want them to give me advice, etc. If they do something other than what I want, we’ll both be frustrated. If I instead I preface it by saying, “I’m going to handle this on my own, but I just need to say it and be heard.” or “I need some advice.” then we both go into the convo knowing our roles. This works on big meetings too, “I’m going to make the final decision but I schedule this meeting to hear your input…” “At the end of the meeting I want to walk away with a budget we’ve all approved…” 

“What is the most important thing for us to accomplish [during this meeting]?”

Use it: When you don’t know the expectations for a meeting, you don’t think you need to be in the meeting, the meeting has a lot of people on it, or you’re getting frustrated because you don’t know why there’s a meeting in the first place.

Why: So that you and the person leading the meeting don’t focus on different things! See the above entry :)  

“Hypothetically, what would the ideal outcome look like?”

Use it: When someone is stuck on a problem (including yourself).

Why: We tend to artificially impose limits on our problem-solving, which stops us from being creative, going into an open-ended hypothetical offers a new vantage point.

A lot of times when we’re stuck, we try so hard to make do with what we’ve got that we fail to consider how much more is actually available to us. Start with the ideal and figure out which components of it are accessible. Then work backwards with what/how/who questions. What/how/who are open-ended. They make you think! Consider: “Can you rent space by this weekend?” this is a closed decision, it limits you to yes/no, and puts limiters on the delivery (what comes to mind are event halls, restaurants, etc) Compare to: “What kind of space do you need?” which could prompt something like, oh, just space for 10 people - what about a park? Open-ended questions are your friend when trying to help someone solve a problem (even if that ‘someone’ is yourself!) 

(not a phrase)  Save ‘I’ for remediation, passive voice for problems

Use it: When you have to communicate a problem that is not your fault.

Why: Because you shouldn’t take responsibility for something that isn’t your responsibility - but throwing someone else under the bus is NEVER a good look. Putting the ‘I’ on action shows you’re working on it. Consider, “I don’t have bandwidth to take on this project right now” vs “This project will require more analysis than that timeframe allows, but I can start on it [later ETA].” The latter is stronger - the fault is on the project, not your time management (or your leadership’s inability to see that your plate is full). Also, “I haven’t finished because Bob hasn’t sent me the graphics.” vs, “The project’s just waiting on graphics. I should be able to wrap up by Tuesday if they arrive Monday. I’ve reached out to Bob, his ETA is [ETA]”. Same thing - it’s communicated that the project isn’t finished, but the fault is left sort of nebulous. You’re not artificially taking it one, and you’re not tossing Bob under the bus. Takes some practice, but definitely makes life easier. Caveat (there’s always one): If you screw up, take ownership and do it fast. It is always, ALWAYS better to control the narrative of failure than for your leadership to find out you failed from someone else.

(not a phrase) KEEP TALKING

Use it: When you’re interrupted by someone being obnoxious.

Why: Because you’re not done, and they’re being rude, and this communicates that without calling them out. Legit, just finish your sentence like you don’t hear them talking. Don’t miss a beat. Not to make this about gender, but this is something I, as a female on mostly all-male teams, have found to be EXTREMELY effective, to the point of other people reaching out to me after like wow that interrupting person was kinda bein’ an asshole, sorry, and me being like no biggie thanks for noticing and taking my back. Has that secondary reach out ever happened when I just meekly cut myself off for them? No. Caveat - maybe don’t do this if the person interrupting is like, a VP/CEO they won’t take it well. Also, second caveat, have some grace for your coworkers if it’s not something they do often and you work with them frequently - we all get overexcited and interrupt unintentionally. This is specifically for use in scenarios where a) you are not being heard  and you need to be b) you are the authority (either by knowledge, seniority, or scheduling) c) to make someone who interrupts habitually aware they’re doing it to you.

Edit: The fantastic and wise @han-pan​ offered as well, “Can I finish?” quoth she: “I find it helpful because it identifies that person has interrupted, it is stark and direct enough to startle someone out of talking louder and louder until you finish, and it’s really hard to be mad at someone for asking your permission when you’ve fucked up.” AND I AGREE. This is a good one to use in those ‘have some grace’ moments, as it’s less likely to damage the relationship.

“Sorry, but I don’t have the decision-making or budget authority.”

Use it: When someone on LinkedIn wants you to try their service...

Why: Because they’ll leave you alone, usually.

“What’s the most important issue for you to solve/question for you to answer?”

Use it: When you’re disagreeing on approach with someone.

Why: Again, expectation aligning!

Sometimes people just dig their heels in on something. There’s usually a reason. Let’s say Coworker A and Coworker B are both working a presentation for Director C. Coworker A is frustrated because they’ve been given strict instructions to keep it to 15 minutes, but Coworker B keeps adding slides, even after A deletes them. By asking B what the most important question for them to answer is, A can use that as a guidepost to focus the presentation. (Likewise, if B asks, what’s the issue, they’ll understand A is really concerned about going over time)

[fio-violet]

Fluffy help (part 1)

Throughout the day, the Killer did not behave normally. He looked tired all day, and it bothered him a lot. He couldn't compose himself, couldn't remember the script, got confused in words, and got scolded for it. It was obvious that he had been distracted just today, and at the wrong time, they had a lot of work planned for this day, and he could not collect his thoughts.

"- Hey, Kill -" knight shouted, "- You're a little confused today, are you all right? -" Nightmare asked with a little excitement, this behavior is strange for his boyfriend, usually he is collected when they are on set.

"- I don't know, I've been feeling tired all day, -" the Killer replied, rubbing the back of his head with his hands. "- And now I have a little stress because of the huge number of failed takes, the Director is clearly not happy with me today -" he looked calm, but who knows what is on his mind now.

While the two actors were talking in the other corner of the stage, a timid trainee entered the hall and began to approach the workers who had previously asked the Barista for a certain coffee. Surprisingly, our coffee boy remembered what kind of coffee one or another employee ordered. Now he had gone through almost everything, and there were only two glasses of coffee left on the tray, intended for the monsters he likes.

Ccino had noticed during his rounds that the Killer and Nightmare were talking about something, and to his surprise, it was the Nightmare who took the initiative, and usually the Killer tries to get Him to talk. "- Is something wrong? -" it flashed through his mind as he approached them. He decided that he would definitely ask them about it, but probably later, but for now he tries to smile, and not give away a certain embarrassment and confusion.

"- Hi guys -" a little timidly greeted the two actors, the Barista.

"- Oh, hi, Ccino -" Nightmar said, smiling slightly as the Intern approached them.

"- Hello, baby- " the Killer tried to act natural in front of another favorite monster.

Ccino tried not to show his embarrassment at the Killer's response, but the flush on his cheekbones betrayed it.

"- Y-your coffee. Knight you asked for your regular coffee without additives. And the Killer asked for an espresso with a double dose of caffeine, right? -" of course, he is sure that he remembered everything correctly, but always clarified.

"- Yes, thank you, Ccino -" said Nightmer, still smiling slightly as he took his drink from the tray.

"- That's right, thank you -" the Killer also kept up with the Night and took his glass. Then they simultaneously moved closer to their trainee and kissed on the cheeks from different sides. Ccino, who had not expected such actions, started at first in surprise, and then, as it dawned on him, his face flushed again, and he froze in place, trying to recover himself.

"- Heh, you're so embarrassed again, you should get used to it by now, -" the Killer said with a light laugh, taking a sip of coffee. "-But you get even nicer at times like this -" he continued after a short pause. Nightmare just grinned, as if agreeing with his second boyfriend.

" -B-by the way, -" Ccino said, still looking at the killer in confusion, "- You usually drink coffee with additives, but today you decided to drink the same coffee as Nightmare, with double caffeine." He tried to change the subject to one that bothered him more. "- I noticed that you are silent more than usual, in conversation the Nightmare spoke more than you, something happened? -" Ccino was already looking at his boyfriend with concern.

"- W-wow, you're really observant -" the Killer was actually confused and pleased to some extent, the idea that his boyfriends noticed his condition, even though he tried to hide it so that he could focus on work.

"- I said it was noticeable -" Nightmare said with a grin.

"- Hey, I'm worried about you and the Nightmare, of course I'll notice the changes -" he managed to confuse both himself and the two actors at the same time, but Ccino wanted to know what was going on with the Killer today, maybe he got sick or something.

"- Ccino, the Killer probably overworked recently, this is the result of the actor's hard work -" said the still slightly confused Nightmare.

"- So...are you tired because of stress? -" the barista asked.

"- Most likely -" the Killer replied with a slight smile, finishing his coffee, the drink should help him relieve fatigue until the end of the working day, and then the wave of fatigue and drowsiness will cover him with a vengeance. By the way, Nightmare had almost finished his coffee.

"- Have you thought about taking the day off? -" Night threw the empty glass in the trash and looked at the slightly cheerful Killer.

"- I can't, there's a lot of work, have you seen the script at all? -" a little indignantly asked the Killer, remembering how many times today he forgot words or dialogues until they finished shooting, it was some kind of show.

"- Then you can rest in the evening -" the Nightmare continued after the Killer's response.

"- We can spend this evening together, -" the Intern suddenly suggested. There were slightly surprised looks at him, but he continued, "- I mean, we could help the Killer relax and de-stress this evening, so that he can have a good rest and go back to normal work tomorrow. -"

"- Hmm, this idea could be tried, -" Nightmare was more interested in how it would come out and what it would lead to. "- What do you say, Killer? Would you like to spend the evening with us? -" he was smiling maliciously.

"- Tempting offer -" in response, he also smiled maliciously. "-It still depends on what we will do -".

"- We can spend the evening at my place, my apartment is small, but I think that's enough for us -" it seems that at the moment Ccino is not embarrassed by his own proposal, but who knows if he will regret it or not?

"- Are you sure? -" the Killer asked doubtfully.

"- Yeah, it's all right. I will enjoy your company. By the way, you haven't really been to my house that often, have you, Killer? -"

"- Well, Yes, it is -" he said.

"- I have animals at home, cats -" on the word "cats" the Killer perked up a little "- I think they will help you to relieve some stress. As far as I know you like cats too -"

"- Yes, it is. Only now I'm envious -" the Killer replied, slightly offended.

"- It's starting -" Nightmare said softly, a little irritated. The Nightmare does not allow the killer to bring home animals, especially since it is a big responsibility, and they still need to take care of this animal, and they do not have time for all this. They disappear all day at work, they come home almost at night, with this mode, the Nightmare doubts that the animal will survive with them.

They were saved from even more questions by the Director's voice calling for them to return to the set.

"- Well, we're leaving, they're waiting for us -" the killer said in a more cheerful voice, throwing away the empty сup of coffee he had drunk.

"- Yeah, it's time to get back to work. -" Nightmare agreed.

"- Well, I'll see you tonight, baby. -" the Killer said, and gave Ccino a quick peck on the forehead. Nightmare also kept up and gave the Barista a quick kiss on the nose.

Ccino stayed where he was, feeling his face start to burn again with embarrassment. He was happy, there was no doubt about it, but he also wanted to cheer up the two guys who were already walking away from him and talking about something.

"- I'll regret this -" Ccino thought. - "Hey!", he shouted, running up to them. They turned and looked at him in slight surprise, about to ask something, but the trainee silenced them with a quick kiss on the lips. When they realized this, they were at first slightly shocked, they did not expect that their coffee boy, who was always embarrassed by any kisses and words, would climb up to them to kiss himself.

"- T-this is to c-cheer you two up when you're on set -" Ccino tried to explain his action quickly and confidently, as it delays them, but with each word he blushed more and without saying anything else quickly left the set.

Nightmare and the killer only looked slightly surprised as the trainee left, then went to the set in high spirits.

"- You're a bad influence on him -" Nightmare said.

"- As if you don't like it when I do it or he does it -" the Killer replied, laughing a little.

"- Fuck you! -" nightmare exclaimed in embarrassment, quickening his pace.

"- Come on, I love you -" the killer exclaimed, catching up with the nightmare and giving it a quick kiss on the temple.

"- Me too... -" he replied, calming down a little, and the Killer's smile widened.

Well, the evening promises to be fun.

(To be continued ???)

I finally finished this part. I really worked on it, and I hope someone likes it. Please excuse the mistakes, my English is not so good. (QwQ)💦

I was inspired by these people: @zu-is-here , @help-im-a-gay-fish , @yuriyuruandyuraart , @kotikaleo , @jann-the-bean .

Thank you for your inspiration and for loving this ship. ( UwU)✨💜💜💜

Killer!Sans by @rahofy-sketch

Ccino!Sans by @black-nyanko

Nightmare by @jokublog

[burninglilys]

run for your life with me

Or, 4 times Pang and Wave imagine beginning anew and 1 time they actually do.

(#thegiftedweek, day one: new beginnings)

1.

"Do you ever think about running away?" Pang asks, his jaw clenched, staring determinedly at his bulletin board as though he'd posed the stupidest question that Wave has ever heard to the board and not Wave. 

It has only been three days since they decided to work together. Three long days, in Wave's opinion, who feels quite rattled at the influx of all that is Pang. He has been drenched in confusing feelings, too mingled up to pick apart the intricacies of it every time that he’s around him. Wave would love putting it in a tiny chest and hiding it under the loneliest corner of his mind, avoiding it all, but there this inexplicable  pull of Pang -- with his easy smiles and sharp mind -- that he just can’t deny. 

Wave peels his eyes away from Pang, who stands honey-hued in the room reflecting the sunlight that pours in from his window, and turns his gaze towards the board. 

"No," Wave replies, honestly. 

Pang startles at the answer, his arms that were sternly crossed against his chest falling at his side. 

"Really?" 

"Really," Wave confirms, looking at Pang again. "This is my reality. I have got to accept it because there's no way out of it but this."

Pang looks all out of sorts at that. "Why?" Wave asks, "Are you thinking about running away and starting anew?" 

Worrying his lip between his teeth, Pang clenches his fists again. "They're just fantasies, you know? Of running away, beginning again. It helps deal with the reality easier," Pang says in a small voice that Wave decidedly does not like. "I'm not actually going to do that, not when we have just started; certainly not when we have so much left." 

"Well," Wave starts, deciding to do something he'd only ever thought of as a mythical concept -- compromising, "As long as they're just fantasies."  He internally cringes at how sharp his voice sounds, when he actually means: please don't run away. I would not know what to do if you did. 

"It's just," Pang huffs, rubbing the flat of his palm on his face. "It doesn't hurt to imagine, you know? Running away from Rithda. A life where the director does not exist; a life where we can live in this bubble of ignorance about everything that's wrong with the education system as a whole."

Wave looks at him, at a complete loss for what to say. 

“You should imagine how you’d like to live your life away from this all,” Pang says. “It helps, I promise. Then you have an idea about the future that you’re fighting for. That we are fighting for. And we can get to building it right away, once this all ends. Or just away from it all, if it doesn't.” 

Wave chooses to ignore the multiple ‘we-s’ that scatter throughout all of what Pang said. "Yeah, right. As if you wouldn't do the same anywhere else. Running away from this responsibility of making things equitable for all is equivalent to running away from everything that makes you, you. A place would hold no power over it." 

Pang's eyes crinkle around the edges, his dimple deepening, as he lets out a laugh full of mirth. "Oh?” he asks, his tone teasing, “You know me that well, huh, Wave?” 

Wave hurriedly averts his eyes from Pang. “Shut up,” he grits out. 

“I thought you hated me,” Pang says, taking a step towards Wave. “I thought that you couldn’t stand to be around me.” 

“I can’t, you asshole,” Wave says, stepping away, ignoring the deeply contradictory feelings that run through him. “You’re the worst.” 

“You wouldn’t have agreed to work with me if that were true,” Pang hums, coming to stand beside him, their shoulder brushing against each other. 

Wave stares at the withering corner of the bulletin board, prepared to not look at Pang until he moves away. “I just hate the system more than you,” he says. “The enemy of my enemy is my friend.” 

“Your friend, huh?” Pang asks, bumping their shoulders together. “You think of me as your friend?” 

Wave sighs, turning his head to steal a glance from Pang only to realise that he is already being looked at. Wave holds his gaze, not dropping it despite how much he wants to, scared of the emotion that might just burn him from inside. 

“I think of you as an annoyance,” Wave answers and does not move away. “An annoyance who wants to bring down the system and yet thinks about escaping from it all.” 

“I am a complex person,” Pang states, turning his eyes away from Wave. “I could want it all, you don’t know.” 

Wave does not say: I would come and live with you in the bubble of ignorance if you ever decide to. Or: I could help us escape without a digital footprint in a second. Instead, he says, “Let’s get back to this so you can stop building castles in your fantasies away from all this.” 

“Not castles, Wave,” Pang says with a small smile on his face. “A small apartment for us would suffice, no?” 

2. 

Pang meets Wave’s eyes from across the canteen, his eyes neither blinking in recognition nor in any sort of liveliness as it usually does. Just blank. Always blank, these days. 

It is not that Wave expects Khun Pom’s potential to suddenly weaken in a way that makes Pang remember everything, but he still hopes. He hopes and he wishes in a fervour, losing his mind over the empty eyes that Pang looks at him with. 

“We will get to him,” Namtarn softly says, nudging their elbows together. 

“It is taking him too long,” Wave replies with undisguised impatience, stabbing into his food. 

“Don’t take it out on your food,” she says firmly. “We are going to find a way.” 

“What if we don’t?” Wave asks, surprising himself with the words that fall from him. “What if he never remembers? What if he just never remembers us?” Never remembers me?

“Wave,” Namtarn says, holding his elbow. “He is going to remember everything and everyone that he has forgotten. We are going to make sure of that, remember?” 

“But what if--”

“We will figure it out,” Namtarn says, gently. “Whatever happens, we will.” 

Wave gets less optimistic by the minute. Pang’s memories don’t ever leave him. It consumes him whole; it takes up the very little space he has left to give and takes up some more. 

Wave wonders what Pang would say if he were beside him in almost every situation that Wave finds himself in, his laughter filtering through his mind whenever something remotely funny happens, his warmth holding him tight when he thinks that he might just fall apart at all the blank looks he receives. 

Right now, Pang’s own voice reverberates somewhere behind his ribs, saying, "Do you ever think about running away?" 

Yes, Wave wants to say now. He should've always said yes; should've convinced himself and Pang to run away from it all if it meant having Pang safe. We should have run away when we had the chance all those weeks ago. We should’ve run away all those days in between. 

That thought begins unravelling a lot more than he’d ever signed up for. In the comfort of his room (that looks too empty without Pang’s overwhelming presence), he turns to his paper and pen. 

Pang, he writes, in my imagination, we are living in a small house by the beach. The weather is somehow always pleasant -- not too sticky, not too cold -- just perfect, all for us. We can watch the tidal waves from the long windows that house, I’ve decided. There is no Rithda, no vicious Directors trying to take all of what you fought for from you, all of what you remembered from you, and… and all of what I love from me. I like you a little too much, you know? There is just you and me, our house by the beach beside our friends’ houses, and the world promising a better present laid out for us. Come back to us -- to me -- please.”

Wave stops short at the monstrosity that he has written on the paper in front of him and crumples it in a ball, ready to throw it in the trash. Fantasies of a future that wasn’t for him were dangerous waters he really did not want to sink under. Nothing good ever came out of it. 

3. 

“It is not your fault,” Pang softly says, sitting beside him. 

"How is it not my fault?" Wave asks his voice tethering on something that might resemble a cry if he thinks too hard. "I asked her to go there! I asked her to go. Me. This would not have happened had I not."

"You could not have known," Pang says, sounding more rational than he ever has the right to. "If it's anyone's fault, it is mine."

"How?" Wave asks, edging on incredulity. "How is this your fault?" 

"The anti-gifted was formed because of me, don't you remember?" 

"The anti-gifted was formed because of their ideologies," Wave corrects. "This is not on you."

"Exactly why it's not on you either," Pang replies with a shrug. "It's entirely on the anti-gifted." 

Wave sinks into the uncomfortable chair of the infirmary, unable to look directly at Pang. "I asked her to go, Pang," he says in a voice he doesn't remember as his own. 

"I am the cause of anti-gifted," Pang replies easily, sounding as though he truly believes it. 

"We've been over this."

"Exactly," says Pang. "If I am supposed to stop blaming myself for this and believe in it the way you and everyone has been insisting, then you're not either. Those are the rules."

"Your rules are as stupid as you," Wave counters. Blaming yourself for being the cause of a group that is determined to pull the system down with unnecessary violence is not the same as directing your friend to go to an auditorium while there's a live bomb in it. Wave does not understand how Pang can't comprehend the difference. 

"Do you guys think that everything in this universe happens because of you both, huh?" Mon asks frustrated. Startled, Wave looks at her looming figure above them both, a sharp contrast to her red-rimmed eyes and how pale she looks. "You can be the most considerate people out there and follow all your plans well and yet there are things that you can't control! Like this! We could not have controlled this." 

"We could've --" Pang and Wave both start, before Mon interrupts again. 

"Seriously, guys. Just because you're the leader, Pang, does not mean that we've to agree to everything that you say. If you're blaming yourself for the 'anti-gifted', then you might as well blame all of us because we did agree to it. It was a mutual decision." 

"Exactly," Wave says in half-hearted triumph.

"And Wave, you did what any one of us would've done. Namtarn was the closest to the auditorium," Mon says, choking on her name. "Besides," she adds, resembling someone trying their hardest to keep it together, "it's not going to be that bad. We're going to keep in touch with her. It's not going to be bad at all!" 

"Whatever," Wave says, standing up, knowing full well that Mon is 100% right. "Whatever," he repeats, leaving the infirmary altogether. 

It is when he reaches in his room that his phone screen lights up with a message. Wave ignores it, feeling scrubbed too raw with the long day that they've all had. 

Pang (21:33)

do u ever think about running away? 

Pang (21:37) 

we could run away from this all. i could make them never want to look for us. u could erase our digital footprint. only mom and our friends would know who we are and where we are. we could change our names and delete everything. 

Pang (21:49) 

we could begin again. 

Pang (21:56)

one word from u and the plan is on. we leave tomorrow. 

Wave (23:06)

As if you could order someone to do something without feeling guilty. (As if you could leave this school before doing something about it.)

Pang (23:07) 

i culd if it meant us having a chance to begin again. (it doesnt hurt to imagine, wave.)

Wave (23:07) 

What would our new names be, then? 

Pang (23:08) 

haven't thought that far. all I know is that we'd b together

Wave (23:09) 

Where would we go? 

Pang (23:11) 

anywhere u want. we could leave the country and move into the countryside. we could stay in the country and live by the beach. we could go on the moon, if you'd like. anywhere with u. 

Wave (23:16) 

Anywhere with me? 

Pang (23:16)

anywhere w you. it's all I'd need, really. 

Wave (23:22)

Yeah. That's all I'd need as well. 

Wave (23:23) 

we're going to have to destroy the director first, though. 

Pang (23:24)

duh -_-

4. 

Ohm slams the door shut, leaving a tightly wound silence in the air, leaving Pang, of all people, heavy with defeat.

"When you're done being emotional about all this, call me," Wave says, causing Pang to look away from the door, at him. "I'll be waiting." 

A slow smile creeps on Pang's face. "You're really with me?" 

"Idiot," Wave answers. "How dare you question that?" 

"How can I not?" Pang mumbles. "Don't answer that. And I will call you. I promise. Unless…"

Wave crosses his arms across his chest, sinking deeper into the chair, urging him to go on. "Unless, you want to have dinner together. Right now," Pang continues, looking away. "Only if you want to," he hurriedly adds, "it's okay even if you can't. I mean, I'm sure--"

"Pang."

Pang meets his gaze. 

"I have instant noodles in the pantry. We can make them and go to the rooftop." 

Pang's face loses all of its uncertainty in an instant. "Yeah, okay." 

They make the instant noodles in silence and Wave has this urge to fill it. It had been way too long since they'd seen each other and although there's familiarity in Pang's presence, he doesn't know what's allowed anymore. Their hands brush against each other when they try grabbing the Tupperware at the same time and jump away from each other as though scorned. 

"Sorry," Pang awkwardly chuckles. "I just. Uh. Yeah."

"It's okay," Wave replies, moving towards him. "Just carry the Tupperware and I'll carry the drinks and the mats, okay?"   

The rooftop has always held a sense of permanence that Wave has never before attached to a place. It would only make sense then, for Wave to make it accessible for him even at night. Wave taps on a switch effectively turning on the LED light strips attached to every nook and cranny of the walls. Wave watches Pang -- completely transfixed with the way the rooftop is now enveloped with a soft-golden glow.

"You really did all this?" Pang asks in wonderment. 

"Obviously," Wave answers, "How did you think we'd be able to see our food, Pang?" 

Pang sheepishly holds out his phone. "The torch, I'd assumed." 

"Idiot," Wave mutters. 

Pang moves to bump their shoulders together. "You love me anyway." 

Wave does not acquiesce that with a reply, focusing entirely on setting the boxes as a makeshift table and placing their Tupperwares on it. "Eat," he says, shoving the chopsticks in Pang's hands and opening both their Tupperwares. 

"Give me your phone," Pang replies. 

"Why?" Wave asks, handing him the phone. He watches Pang tinker with his phone before soft, lulling music fills the atmosphere. 

"What's this for?" Wave asks, focusing entirely on his food and not on how this looks like -- a dinner with someone he likes akin to a candle light dinner with sombre music playing in the background. 

Pang looks at him with a tiny, indignant smile. "I'm here, at my favourite place with my favourite person, after days, Wave. Let me have this." 

Wave huffs, adjusting his jacket draped over his shoulders. "Alright, weirdo." 

Pang shakes his head, finally turning towards his Tupperware. The music fills in the gaps in their conversation and it's so pleasant, that Wave could almost forget about the impending doom that lies beyond them. 

They shift to lie side-by-side on their mat, a while after dinner. Their elbows brush against each other as they stare at the stars above them. 

"Do you ever think about running away?" Wave whispers, the wind around then picking up pace. 

"All the time," Pang says. "But I can't, now. We can't. We're too close to changing it all, Wave."

"I know," Wave replies. "But it doesn't hurt to imagine now, does it?"

Wave feels the pressure of Pang's gaze on him and determinedly does not look back. "It doesn't," Pang replies, shuffling to his side, his head resting on the fold of his elbow. 

"So," Wave says, "imagine this with me."

"A home on the outskirts of the city," Pang replies. 

"Like an apartment?" Wave asks, turning to his side as well. 

"No," says Pang. "A house. A home. We go to the university nearby. The Director feels like a faraway nightmare we barely remember."

"How are we affording an entire house on a student budget?" 

"Shhh. This is just a fantasy, Wave," Pang says, moving to ruffle his hair. Wave swats at his hand before reaching over to pull his hair, reveling in the delighted shriek he lets out. 

"Evil. Wave is so evil."

"Shut up. Tell me more about this. Are we still Pang and Wave?" 

"Always. We don't need to hide here. We're safe."

"We're safe," Wave smiles. "Seems unbelievable, huh?"

"We are going to win," Pang says, a shift in his tone apparent. "You know that, right?" 

Wave sighs, turning to lie on his back again. "We're going to give our best."

"And we're going to win," Pang says.

"Another one of your fantasies?" Wave asks. 

"No," Pang replies softly. "In my imagination, we're away from this all, Wave. We're safe and happy and… ah, nevermind. We probably volunteer in an animal shelter on Saturdays. Have movie nights every Sundays. Have one of those chore lists stuck on our fridge." 

"I scold you for leaving the kitchen cabinets open all the time and leaving your socks everywhere."

"And I scold you for taking all my things and putting them away."

"You probably just made a mess of our living room, Pang."

"It has to look lived in," Pang insists. 

"Lived in, not like a garbage dump."

"Garbage dump my ass," Pang says, chuckling. "Then, I bring you the strawberry ice-cream that you pretend to hate as an apology."

"And I let you choose the movie," Wave replies, his heart suddenly full of the possibilities of how it would be like to live together, attend a university together, have a future mapped out around each other. 

"There we go," Pang says, threading his fingers through Wave's hair. "What a perfect world to live in."

Wave looks at Pang, the love of his entire life, and sighs wistfully. "Perfect, indeed."

+1. 

"I would've never pegged you as the last minute packing kind of person," Pang remarks, zipping open Wave's bag that lies haphazardly on the floor. 

"I was busy, okay?" Wave sniffs at Pang slowly shaking his head in his direction. 

They had all been busy, after all. The high of their victory didn't fade away with the conclusion of their exams, strengthening with every moment that convulates since that day. It was Punn's idea in the end, to take his dad's private jet to Phuket and to spend a month there at his beach house, until they've to come back and face the reality of university admissions. 

"We were all busy," Pang says, shoving his clothes in that bag. "And yet, Ohm managed to pack, and you didn't." 

"If you want to complain so much, then don't help me," Wave mutters, not even bothering to fold his clothes properly. They were to leave in three hours and half of Wave's room was still nearly arranged in place. 

"Kidding, kidding," Pang concedes, laughing. Wave tries not to dwell on how carefree Pang's laughter seems now and fails, miserably. 

Out of all the people in the world who deserved to be happy, Pang was the most deserving, after all. Wave would do everything in his power to keep him smiling just the way he does.

"I'll clear the bookshelf for you as well?" Pang asks, dusting his pants off. 

"Obviously," Wave answers, turning away, knowing that he'd only end up getting more distracted than ever if he kept looking at Pang. "Just shove them in that bag," Wave points and gets back to his clothes.  

"Yes, sir," Pang replies, doing just that. 

It's silent for a few minutes before a thud, a yelp, and a sharp intake of breath. 

"Are you okay?" Wave asks, after a minute of silence, still not turning towards Pang. 

"Yeah," comes Pang's high-pitched reply, before he clears his throat. "Just fine, but, uh… you want to live by the sea?" 

Wave's heart touches his feet. 

"You imagine us… living together?" 

Wave is frozen on the spot, the embarrassment turning his insides into hot ash. He should have thrown that letter away all those years ago; should've thrown it and burnt it until all that remained of it were the permanent ink stains crushing his heart. Except...he couldn't. Like all things related to Pang, he couldn't just throw this away. Hiding it in a book he rarely touched was, in retrospect a bad idea, was something that he could have avoided. 

He hears some shuffling until Wave's chin is lifted by Pang, his eyes full of something akin to unabashed hope. 

"Let it go, Pang," Wave says, trying to snatch the crumpled paper from his hands. "It was from two years ago." 

All the mirth from Pang's face vanishes in an instant. "Oh. Oh, okay," he whispers, something broken -- Wave, a little too frantic to notice that. 

What can Wave even say to explain himself? That he started building a future only after meeting Pang? That Pang, without fail, painted the walls of his imagination with his presence? That Pang was in every single one of the new beginnings he thought of?

"I'm sorry," Wave whispers. "You don't have to…you don't have to think about this. Or reply to this. Or anything. I value you above all and I don't care if this doesn't…mean a thing to you."

Pang continues tightly clutching onto the note. "This is addressed to me," Pang says. "Can I keep it then?" 

Wave meets Pang's eyes. "It was when you couldn't remember us," Wave explains. 

"I got that," Pang replies, his eyes lighting up again. 

"It was when you couldn't...remember me."

"I got that too," Pang replies easily. 

How much more obvious does he have to be before Pang finally gets that? 

"I like you," Wave grits out. "That is what you don't get." 

Pang takes a step towards him, Wave following suit. "I always felt a part of me missing, when I couldn't remember you," Pang says. "I think, subconsciously, my eyes always looked for yours." 

Wave is rarely ever rendered speechless. This just prompts Pang further. He takes a step forward and weaves their fingers together. "I think my eyes will always look for yours -- in crowds and empty spaces. You're the first person I think of when I wake up in the morning. I want to tell you everything and anything that crosses my mind. Do you get it?" 

"What?" Wave whispers, trying to wrap his head around the reality of it all. 

Pang leans forward to press their foreheads together, bringing their interwoven hand to his chest. "I like you too," Pang says. "I like you so much, Wave. I don't see a future for myself without you in it. In my imagination, we were always away from all this, but we were also always together."

All breath seems to have been stolen out of Wave's lungs. "You...like me?" Wave asks. 

"I like you," Pang affirms, dropping his hand and wrapping it around his waist. 

Wave leans into him, resting his head in the crook of Pang's neck, tightening his hands around him. "You like me," Wave repeats. "I like you too. I like you so much."

Pang moves his head to kiss Wave's temple. 

"Do you ever think about beginning anew?" Wave asks. 

Wave feels Pang nod. "A small house, 10 minutes from the university that we have enrolled in." 

("Well, it's 15 by foot," will say Wave, three months from now. "But I think it's good enough.")

"We live there for a year or two before moving to a bigger one." 

("We were supposed to live here for a year, at least," Pang will say, a year from now. 

"But that one is bigger," Wave will insist. "And better. You can't deny that. The faucet doesn't drip all night long despite multiple repairs there." 

"Alright," Pang will concede, kissing the top of Wave's head. "I agree.") 

"We'll figure things out," Pang says, "one day at a time."

"But, together," Wave adds. 

Pang holds him closer. "Always together."

[akiraidraws]

Imperfections AU: Beginnings

(Summary: This story takes place prior to any successful attempt at creating a living toon with the ink machine. Henry is nervous about a meeting with Joey. All he knows is that it has something to do with the new ink machine and the toons. Will he go along with Joey's scheme or will he refuse?)

Trigger warning: Implied anxiety, light swearing

Just going to leave this under the cut since it's a little long.

Chapter 1: When Dreams Take Hold

It was another usual quiet morning at Joey Drew Studios. The studio's employees were hard at work within their respective departments, winding down from a particularly stressful deadline crunch with the beginnings of a new Bendy short.

Henry sat at his drafting desk in his new private office space, drawing in silence as Sammy leaned against the opposite wall venting his grievances about the newly completed ink machine to the long-time animator. Henry was only half listening to to music director as he tried to stop his concerns about some 'project' that Joey had requested he be present for later that afternoon. He knew it had something to do with the new ink machine and the cartoons but he had no idea what Joey meant by 'bringing life to the toons'. Joey had insisted that his presence was extremely important and that the 'project' had something to do with the little devil darling himself. What Joey meant by that Henry had no idea. Had Henry been doing something wrong? Were the animations not living up to Joey's expectations? These thoughts were flooding through Henry's mind in waves. How could he possibly give the toons more life than he already had? He loved the toons. He poured his heart and soul into every single frame he drew.

Henry flinched when Sammy waved a hand in front of his face.

"Henry! Henry, are you even listening?" Sammy asked with the slightest hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Oh. Yeah, yeah, I'm listening."

"Really? Because it looked like you were zoning out." Sammy retorted with a scoff.

"Sorry, I'm just a bit tired is all. How about I take a break and we go grab some coffee." Henry suggested.

"Fine by me, I could use some coffee right about now." Sammy said as he turned on his heel leaving the room. Flinging the door open and starting down the hall.

Henry stretched his arms as he got up and followed Sammy down the hall to the small break room. The room was bustling with activity compared to the quiet of the other areas within the studio. Susie, Norman and Shawn were seated at the mid sized table and Wally was leaning back against the wall with mop in hand. Sammy grabbed his coffee first and joined the trio at the table. They were all buzzing and complaining to each other about the new ink machine that Joey had installed. Henry only caught small snippets of the conversation as he entered the room and grabbed his own mug, filling it with the much too old coffee that was left in the pot.

"And so he says to me 'Mr. Flynn, these smiles are crooked AND there's ink dripping down the faces!' like its my fault that those blasted pipes be breakin' right over the shelves!" Shawn exclaimed to the trio throwing his hands up in obvious annoyance.

"Tell me about it! Not even my dressing room is clear of ink anymore!" Susie chimed in.

"How do ya think I feel? I'm the one who's gotta clean up the mess! I swear if one more pipe bursts, I'm outta here!" Wally whined as Norman laughed and Sammy groaned.

Henry took a sip from his mug as he joined the crew at the table.

"Man, you all have me feeling lucky. It's like the animation department is the only one not swimming with ink." He said with a chuckle.

"Aint you a lucky son of a gun." Norman elbowed the man as he teased.

"Seriously though, Henry. Are you alright? you look a little tense." Norman asked.

He grasped Henry by the shoulder with a little more force than he meant to making Henry spill his coffee.

"Oh, shoot. Sorry."

"Nice one, Norman" Sammy scoffed as Susie chided him and Wally snickered, earning a glare from the music director.

"It's alright Norman. No use crying over spilt coffee." Henry reassured as he wiped up the coffee from the table with a loose napkin.

Shawn was enjoying the show as he quietly sat back and sipped his coffee with a smile.

"And to answer your question, yes, I'm fine. Doing just dandy actually. Just a little worried about a meeting with Joey later today but it's nothing you all should worry about. Really."

"If ya say so." Norman shrugged.

The six co-workers sat and exchanged ink machine mishap stories with each other well into the afternoon, laughing their heads off at each other's expense when a sudden knock sounded at the break room door. Joey stood in the doorway smiling at Henry and tapping on the face of his watch. Everyone looked up at Joey then back at Henry.

"Whoops. Sorry ladies and gents, looks like I'm late for that meeting."

Henry feigned a smile getting up from his seat. He waved a quick good-bye to his friends and headed out the door with Joey. The walk to the ink machine room was uneventful as Joey rambled on excitedly about 'dreams coming true' and 'imagination'. Henry simply nodded along to the banter with the occasional 'mhmm' too stuck inside his own worried thoughts to pay attention. The only thing pulling Henry from his thoughts being Joey suddenly throwing his arm over his shoulder and leaning into his side.

"Aren't you excited Henry?" Joey asked enthusiastically, practically vibrating with excitement.

"Huh? Excited about what?" Henry responded to the question with confusion.

"Henry, old pal, weren't you listening?" Joey laughed.

"Uh.. no, no I wasn't. Seems like I've had my head in the clouds all day actually." Henry confessed rubbing at the back of his neck with a small smile.

"Well that's alright, old pal. There's nothing wrong with a little day dreaming." Joey chuckled.

"Just try to keep your head out of the clouds during our little 'project' alright?"

"Sure, sure. Uh... hey Joey?"

"Yes Henry?"

"What exactly is this 'project' you insisted I help you with? Why is it so important?"

Joey let go of Henry's shoulder and turned to face him with the biggest smile Henry has ever seen on his friend's face. One would even say that it rivaled that of the little dancing darlin' himself.

"Why Henry old pal, we're going to bring the little devil himself into our reality. With the help of the ink machine and a little magic that is."

Henry's jaw practically hit the floor.

"W-what? Joey that's crazy! You don't actually mean-"

"Why yes, I do. Henry, I wanted you to be there for Bendy's birth because I know how much he means to you. You DID create the little devil after all and I just KNOW he'll be perfect!" Joey beamed clapping his hands together.

To be honest, Joey just needed Henry present so that he could take a piece of his soul and use it to stabilize the new little toon. He didn't want any repeats with grotesque soulless abominations like the ones he had created and destroyed during late night practice sessions within the studio.

But Henry didn't need to know that.

"Joey, what the hell-"

"I know how this sounds old pal, trust me I do! But with a little imagination and soul anything is possible!"

"Joey! Stop! Just. stop."

Henry couldn't believe what he was hearing. Bring Bendy into their physical plane of existence? He had never heard of anything so absurd in his life.

"Let's just say that I believe you. Why EXACTLY do you need ME there for your weird magic ritual stuff?" Henry asked skeptically.

"No reason. I just thought you might like to be there." Joey lied

Henry's skepticism didn't falter. He considered just walking away but something pulled at him from inside that urged him to entertain Joey's notion. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was a deeply rooted connection that Henry had always felt towards Bendy that he just never took notice of.

He decided that if anything went wrong he could kill Joey later but for now he just went along with whatever nonsense Joey spewed in an attempt to persuade him. It didn't. But Joey didn't need to know that.

Joey stopped abruptly outside of the room housing the large ink machine.

"Well here we are, Henry. Are you ready?"

"Yes. Let's do this."

[angstsfordays]

I Miss You, I Love You

Summary: Ever since Bucky woke up from his cryogenic sleep in Wakanda, you decided to let him have space to recover despite your eagerness to see him. While your relationship is undefined thus far, you tried to find ways to let him know he is being loved.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Fluff all around. A hangry and aggressive goat.

Word count: 5k-ish

Notes: Hi, I’m back with a Bucky story! This one has nothing to do with the universe I created for my other Bucky/ Steve AU stories. If you haven’t checked it out, I written A Lot Like Love not long ago. Check out my masterlist too! 😘

Leave a like, reblog or comment to let me know what you think! 💖

———————————————————————

It had been almost five months after the civil war between Steve Rogers and Tony Stark. You were one of the enhanced individuals that came out to help Steve but mainly, Bucky to clear his name.

Before the fight, you had kept your powers on the down low even while you were an agent with SHIELD. You still remember when you were kidnapped by HYDRA, specifically Brock Rumlow, a fellow agent that you thought was your ally and friend.

Brock and you had trained in the academy together and were even partners for awhile before Fury pulled you out to support Phil Coulson. Brock always had his suspicions about you when you had to managed to survive life-threatening situations.

Once, you managed to save him from the impact of an explosion only a few feet away. Both of you would not have survived it but the two of you survived unscathed. When Brock tried to search for your information on SHIELD database, it was mysteriously kept confidential and only accessible by Director Fury. 

Brock relayed this to HYDRA who seemed to keep an eye on you. During the fall of SHIELD, you had been brought to their base forcefully and that’s when you met Bucky for the first time.

You recognised him immediately but you were forced to kept silence by Alexander Pierce who was hell bent on making sure Bucky had no recollection of who he was. You would have been silenced on the spot when you called out his name but Pierce kept you alive for your value as an enhanced.

Long story short, Bucky came back for you when HYDRA was momentarily defeated by Steve Rogers and his group. After pulling Steve out of the water, Bucky killed everyone remaining in the base and freed you. The both of you made plans to escape the country together.

In the two years he tried to hide from the world and regain understanding of himself, you were there by his side. The two of you developed a close bond that was hard to be placed into a specific category.

You were the only one he trusted and he was the one you wanted to protect. For those two years, the two of you enjoyed each other’s company and fell into domestic bliss. At first, you two lived off the savings that you had while living a simple life in Romania 

Soon, he tried to earn a living by doing laborious work while you worked at a local café. The two of you were happy and even though nothing special had happened between the two of you, you were still content.

It’s hard to say if you two were even toeing the lines of relationship but you knew you were at least friends.

Then one day, news of the UN bombing happened. Bucky was on his day off and went to the market to buy groceries for the two of you. He then discovered himself in deep waters when he was framed for a crime he did not commit.

You were still working at the café at the moment it happened. You took your apron off and dashed out of the café when you saw the news on TV. However, by the time you reached, you had arrived at a bust-up home.

Grabbing your passport, you hopped on the next available flight to Germany. Your heart was racing wildly when you saw that Bucky escaped from CIA custody and you wondered where he could have gone.

Once you landed, you received a call on your burner phone and heaved a sigh of relief when you realised Bucky was on the other line. He told you of his plans and asked you to stay low.

“I can’t drag you into this, Y/N. Not after all you have done for me.” He reasoned, almost pleading as he really didn’t want to involve you into his mess. You uprooted your whole life back home and abandoned it so that you could help him.

Bucky didn’t want to take anything more from you. You deserved to live a carefree life without constantly worrying about watching your back all the time.

“I don’t want to leave you, Bucky.” Your voice came out shaking at his request. Several times had he brought up the idea of leaving so that you can return to your previous life, but you pleaded for him to stay.

The two of you had gone through so much together, how could he easily thought of leaving you?

Your ears perked up when you heard the faint sound of an announcement that sounded similar to where you were at. You then realised he was here at the airport.

The airport staff asked for mass evacuation and you made to escape from the crowd. As you hid in a spot trying to figure your next move, you then heard the sound of crashing and explosion. You let your feet bring you to the runway where the fight happened.

Your appearance was one of the many surprises when you came between Bucky and someone who you came to know as the Black Panther. Bucky was shocked to see you while you chided him if he really thought you would abandon him.

Bucky allowed himself to have a feel-good moment amidst the chaos as he thought of how lucky he was to have you by his side. You persuaded Bucky to leave you and continue his plans of going after Zemo. He begrudgingly obliged when he saw how you had fiercely fought to protect him.

Along with the rest, you were brought into a maximum centre in the middle of the ocean for your war crimes. Added that you are an unregistered enhanced individual that popped up from nowhere and aided in the fugitive escape of Steve and Bucky, you were considered a criminal too.

Everything seemed like it was going downhill until Steve Rogers broke you out and had everyone brought to Wakanda to seek refuge. You barely reunited with Bucky when he told you that he wants to go into cryogenic sleep.

He didn’t believe he was safe until that was a solution to the brainwashing that HYDRA had subjected him to. Bucky regretted the decision the moment he saw the tears welling up in your eyes.

Even with only one arm left, he made sure to hold you tight in his arms to comfort you.

“Wait for me, Y/N. I want to come back as better man.” He spoke while he rested his chin on the crook of your neck.

“You’re already the best man to me, Bucky.”

Your words made Bucky’s heart soar and swore you were the best thing that could have happened to him after 70 years of pain and suffering. As he pulled away to take in your face for one last look, he then leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

After you got over your emotions, you reassured him that you will be fine. You wanted the best for him even if it means he could not be with you for awhile. In the two years you spent together, Bucky had confided in you that he was most afraid of not being in control of himself ever again. HYDRA robbed him of his own person and Zemo took advantage of that too.

You wanted Bucky to have the chance to be free again so you let him go. As he walked over to the machine, he threw you one last longing look and a nod to Steve before he stepped in.

Once the machine closed around him and reality sunk in, you let yourself fall to the ground and let out a deep exhale. Steve Rogers had learnt about you as Bucky talked about you while they were on the jet to Siberia.

Steve was grateful that his pal had found someone like you. Steve bent down to your level and patted your back to soothe your pain. You returned a smile to Steve in kindred spirit, knowing that you weren’t the only one who was affected.

Before he decided to leave, Steve had asked you to stay in Wakanda as he wished that you do not join his group on the run as fugitives. He did not say this to you but he also hoped that you will be here once Bucky wakes up too.

You gladly accepted his request and soon found yourself enjoying Wakandan hospitality.

———————————————————————

As a guest, King T’Challa welcomed you like a friend and you had grown to learn more about the beautiful country and its culture.

You had alternated your time in between hanging out with Shuri in the labs and teaching in the villages. You had the honour to become an assistant teacher and grown to love your newfound life.

Shuri had been giving you updates on her progress with Bucky and you had made several trips to see him while he was in a state of sleep. However, it only served to pain you and those trips had lessened once you found yourself busy with your students.

When Shuri finally informed you she had managed to fix Bucky, you were thrilled. She told you of her plans to move him out of the lab and into one of the villages to recuperate for his own mental well-being.

She asked if you wanted to visit him but you suddenly found yourself hesitant to do so. You thought that perhaps, it is best for Bucky to have time to himself. After all, he deserved it after all he has been through.

Maybe, you should keep out of his way for now.

“I seriously don’t understand, why would you avoid him if you like him?” Shuri shook her head when she heard your explanation.

“Boyfriends are so complicated, I am never getting one.” She added on while fiddling with her tech.

“He’s not my boyfriend! He’s just a friend.” The pitch in your voice increased in response to her statement. Bucky was not your boyfriend at all, although you wished-

Shuri stopped what she was doing and looked at you like she did not believe a word you had said. “Sure and I am not a genius then.” Rolling her eyes, Shuri shook her head in disbelief before going back to her screen.

As you made to leave, Shuri stopped you to tell you that Bucky was currently residing in a village twenty minutes from you. He was given his own hut and asked to live a simple life of farming.

You couldn’t have imagine Bucky and farming together. Gathering your courage, you made your way to the village.

You were surprised to see two of your students, learning that this was where they lived. Trying to be discreet, you thought of a way to ask for directions to Bucky’s hut without making it obvious.

As one of your students stared at you fumbling to come up with right words, one of them took you by the hand and dragged you to follow him. The other one fell in steps behind you and soon, a single hut located on a low-lying field came into view.

There was a large space next to the hut dedicated for a fencing space for what seemed like farm animals. You spotted a few chickens, several goats and recognised another one of students from your class sitting casually on a branch of a big tree.

Your brows when you realised there was no one else until you felt your student patting your arm for your attention. You could feel your breath hitched when someone came into your line of sight from the corner of the hut.

Eyes blinking fast and heart racing wildly, you realised who it was. Taking long heavy strides, you could him leaning his weight on his right side as carried a heavy sack.

At a moment’s glance, you could see that his hair had grown longer and his beard had grown thicker. He had a brown scarf tied around his shoulder to his neck to cover where his metal arm once was.

He looks slightly tired but he no longer bore a shadow over his face. Even while standing far away, you could tell he looked happy and your heart warmed at the sight of a smile forming on his face when a small goat came over to him.

The goat was prodding at the sack that Bucky was carrying as if to tell him he was hungry and Bucky chuckled at how impatient the goat was acting like a small child.

How could he even have looked more beautiful than he already was?

“White Wolf! White Wolf!” Your two students started exclaiming as they ran down to where he was. During your time in Wakanda, you managed to pick up a bit of their language. You wondered why were they calling him that?

Your students gathered in front of him excitedly and Bucky’s face formed a confused look at their sudden enthusiasm. When you saw one of your students pointed in your direction, you panicked and started backing up.

You quickly turned your back and made a run for it, hoping Bucky have not spotted you. You were not ready to see him yet. What would you even say? How would you even react?

Quickly making you way back to your own hut, you threw yourself on your bed and groaned with frustration. You felt like an absolute idiot.

The next school day when you entered class, your students asked why you left early and you came up with an excuse that something came up at home.

Kids being kids, they didn’t think much of it and continued talking to you. As you listened, you learnt that Bucky had moved to their village for nearly two months and described him as a quiet but kind man who lets them hang out at his place whenever they want. 

Given the two of you are the only ‘foreigners’ that they knew, they had hoped to introduce you two. You chuckled at their sweet intentions, not knowing the two of you already knew each other.

After school session was over, you had made your way to the nearby marketplace and spotted something that caught your eyes.

As a guest, you were not required to pay but you insisted on paying the merchant with the allowance you were provided by the royal family. Grabbing the paper bag, you made your way back to the village where Bucky lived.

Your students hopped in joy when they saw you coming and ran up to you. Giving them hugs, you said your hellos. You then asked them if they could do something for you.

The eight-year olds nodded enthusiastically and you took out some plums you had gotten. You gave them one each and then shook the bag with the remaining ones before speaking.

“White Wolf.” You recalled their nickname for Bucky and tried to enunciate their native language to the best of your abilities. Before they sprinted off, you held their shoulders and brought a finger to your lips, making a shush sound.

You tried to explain to them that you did not want Bucky to know the plums came from you. Nodding their heads, you took it as sign as they understood before letting them go.

You hoped that it would have made him happy. When you meet your students again, they told you of how Bucky was happy with the plums. They claimed he finished one in two bites and mimicked how large he opened his mouth like a wolf.

You laughed at their dramatics and felt pleased with yourself. You then asked them if they knew Bucky goes to the market and they shook their heads. They then explain he does farm work most of the time and he cooks food that their mums or neighbours send him.

You processed the information and you came up with a plan. Requesting for an oven from Shuri (to which she threw a strange look your way upon the request), you decided to make and send Bucky some baked goods with the aid of your trusted little helpers.

It was your way of showing your care for him and you hoped he finds comfort in them. You always made sure to have your students come up with excuses to pass them to him, explaining that they learnt this during school and wanted to share with him some.

Yes, that should sound believable enough to not rouse suspicions.

You had your students sending food over twice a week for three weeks now. They helped you on the account that they adored you as their teacher and that they could help themselves to your treats.

You always looked forward to the next day when they would tell you how Bucky reacted and grinned foolishly when they told you Bucky always received your gifts with a smile.

You were simply content with this fact.

———————————————————————

Bucky Barnes had ever felt more at peace in a long time. He was eternally grateful to Princess Shuri who had ingeniously came up with a way to deprogram the brainwashing that HYDRA had ingrained in him.

When he first woke up, he was met with the wide smiles of Shuri and T’Challa who eagerly awaited his recovery. Following a few more tests, he was then cleared medically and T’Challa discussed with him on his next plans.

With Shuri and several Wakandan medical professionals’ input, they decided Bucky should have some time to unwind in a quieter village. He was accepting of the idea. When Shuri caught Bucky often looking around for something, she asked what’s wrong.

He asked for you. Shuri told him that what you were doing and he felt pleased at what you had been doing. He was glad you were safe and happy. When Bucky asked if you were coming to visit, Shuri had said that you wished Bucky would have some time to himself first.

Hearing Shuri said that, Bucky’s disappointed face mirror that of a wounded puppy. Bucky didn’t press on further. He knew you wanted the best for him and took it with an open-mind.

Shuri was bewildered at the entire situation. Aren’t the two of you suppose to run back into each other’s arms in some grand romantic gesture? Why were the two for you even acting this way?

Love was confusing and she was glad her love was only for science as it would not make her act all weird like the two of you.

When Bucky slowly settled into his new life, he asked for some farming supplies so that he focus his energy and attention into something productive. 

His day revolved around the mundane tasks of tending of his animals, chopping wood for the local villagers and growing his own food produce. However, Bucky could say that he was finally happy. 

Although there was something that would make him happier…. Bucky sometimes wondered what you were doing from time to time.

He could imagine you with your infectious smiles and energy, you were doing good with children. You deserved to be happy while he believed he shouldn’t. Although gradually lesser, Bucky sometimes still woke up to the horrors of his past actions. Bucky felt that he was not deserving of you.

As Bucky tried to distract himself of such thoughts, the sounds of children’s laughter and feet running made him looked up. In their excitement, the village children’s words came out as gibberish and he was having a hard time to understand what they were saying.

When one of them stretched their hand to point towards the slope, he saw a wave of dress fabric whisk by. Bucky was still trying to pick up the language and learn what the children were trying to say.

All he heard was a single word that he had yet to learnt.

“Teacher! Teacher!” The children kept on repeating while jumping up and down.

The next following day, Bucky was trying to brush off a nosy goat (who was the brunt of its litter) that kept on bothering as he went on to do his chores. He had named the goat Steve after it reminded him of his long-time pal.

His ears perked up when he heard the nickname that the village children had gave him. White Wolf, he learned from Shuri.

All of them had a fruit in one of their hands while one had carried an extra paper bag. The child pushed it towards his hands and he opened it up to see- plums.

The fruits brought him back to his memory of that very day. While it was a sad memory, he got over it and thanked the children. Bucky went on to ask where they got it from.

The children looked at him for a moment before shrugging their shoulders and running off to play. He brushed it off as a small kind gesture and took a big bite into the fruit. He didn’t know how a simple plum could have made his day.

The following days and weeks, the children returned back to his home bearing gifts. He was surprised to see familiar food from home such as bread, brownie and cookies.

His curiosity was peaked as these foods were not normally part of Wakanda’s culture and he wondered where the children had gotten it from. He tried to question the children the first few times and they had only returned sheepish grins before going off to play.

After the third time, one of the children said school and Bucky grew an even more confused. They got this from school? Or did they learn how to make this from school? There was something familiar about the baked goods that he received and he wondered when he had seen them.

———————————————————————

You woke up this morning with another plan. You had decided to bake bread loaves and have them delivered to Bucky. You were in your kitchens since this morning and the bread had been ready well after lunch time.

Wrapping them up, you made your way to the village and greeted several people you knew. One of your students immediately ran towards you when he saw what you carried in your hand.

You passed him the bread you made which he delightfully passed onto his mother who gave you a grateful smile. When you passed him a second bag, he immediately knew what you wanted him to do and headed off.

Normally, you would have turned and walked back home. However, curiosity had gotten the better of you. After hearing from your students how Bucky was delighted with your gifts, you were eager to see him in person.

Your eyes caught your student walking not far from you and you decided to follow behind. Soon, you saw him making his way down the gentle slope leading towards Bucky’s hut.

Bucky’s head tilted when he heard your student calling for him. You made sure to hide behind a nearby tree and peeked cautiously to take a look at Bucky.

Bucky can be seen with a toothy grin as he accepted the bag and patted their student’s head affectionately in thanks. Your heart leaped at the sight and a sense of satisfaction overcame you, leaving you in absolute glee.

What you did not expect while you were in self-bliss was a certain animal creeping up on you from behind. You jerked when a tug was felt from your side and you turned to see a small white goat nibbling at your bag. It must want the bread that you made but you could not it have it. Were goats even allowed to eat bread?

You tried to tug it from his bite but you realised he was very persistent and that you were having a hard time. It’s like it could do this all day as it became an apparent tug of war.

“Hey!” You involuntarily let out a scream as the animal start bleating aggressively. Weren’t goats supposed to be cute and friendly?

When you managed to have the final tug out of the goat’s mouth, you could not even rest for a moment as you saw the goat heading towards for you.

You instinctively ran in circles to throw the goat off your trail but it was pretty persistent. Boy, did it ran really fast too?

You wished you had super speed instead and start flailing as the goat bleated angrily while chasing you.

Your screams attracted the attention of Bucky who wondered what had happened. A woman’s scream was rarely heard in his part of the area and Bucky went to find the source of the sound.

Of all the scenarios that he could have imagined, Bucky had least expected you to see you running and screaming for what it seemed like your dear life. His eyes moved to see that Steve, his annoying runt of a goat was chasing you vehemently with a passion.

Bucky wanted to stop and laugh out loud at how terrified you look of Steve who barely stood at your waist level. When your eyes finally meet, you sped up and jumped onto Bucky who luckily was able to hold you steady even with one arm.

Circling your legs around his waist so that the goat would not be able to reach you, you made sure you wouldn’t fall by securing your arms around Bucky’s neck.

“Save me from this demon, Bucky!” You pouted and pleaded. Hearing the goat’s bleating coming nearer, you tightened your grip onto Bucky and looked over Bucky’s shoulder to see its beady eyes staring intently at the bag in your hands.

Bucky did not want to make of the situation as his senses first alerted him of how close you were to him. The two of you were chest to chest and he could your heart beating fast. Bucky breathed in your familiar scent that he didn’t knew he missed until now.

When he heard your whine once more, he was brought back to reality and started to catch up with how funny the scene was.

“You mean Steve?” Bucky chuckled in response to your previous statement.

“You name him, Steve?! Why would you do that? Steve is so sweet-” Pulling your face away from the crook of his neck, you came face to face with Bucky. You were nearly shocked by the little distance that lied between your faces and you recalled how much you missed his beautiful cerulean eyes.

Taking a nervous gulp, you also started blinking fast when you realise you were so close to Bucky that you could feel each other’s breath. Bucky locked you in hard stare as he didn’t speak, only using his eyes to communicate.

Your eyes broke contact with his and fleet to his pink lips for a moment. What were you doing? Bucky caught what you were doing and gulped nervously on his own. The tension between the two of you could be cut with a knife.

Your staring match was then cut off once again by Steve’s excessive bleating.

“Can he eat bread?” You asked him but Bucky was not out of his reverie of you and you had to ask once more to get his attention.

“Does Goat Steve eat bread?!”

“He eats anything-” Before Bucky could finish, you removed the hand that held the bag and threw it far from where you were. Goat Steve’s gaze followed to where the bag landed and he ran for it. With ease, he managed to prod his head into the bag and dragged the loaf of bread out. To start digging in

Seeing that your near-death crisis was over, you hesitantly push away from Bucky and he reluctantly let you down onto the ground. There was a moment of silence between the two of you as neither one of you knew what to say.

Standing awkwardly and looking anyway at each other, the both of you were frantically trying to come up with something to say.

“How are you?” The both of you spoke up at the same time. Your impeccable timing caused the both of you to laugh awkwardly before looking back at each other.

“I’m good.” The two of you answered at the same time once more and you two laughed at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Bucky nodded towards you to signal you to speak first.

“I see you are a farmer now.” Mentally slapping yourself, you couldn’t believe that was the first thing you had said to Bucky after he woke up from his cryogenic sleep.  

“And I heard you are a teacher now.” Bucky followed in response before widening his eyes in a sudden realization.

“The bread, the other baked stuff, it’s you. The children say they brought it from school. You’re a teacher so-” Putting the pieces together, Bucky realised you were the one who has been sending food to him. 

“Were the plums from you too?“

You looked down sheepishly in embarrassment, hand reaching to rub the back of your neck as you tried to come up with an explanation.

“Well, I just want to give you something and they say giving food is an act of love- I mean well not love but you know I want to make you happy so-”

“Why didn’t you give it to me yourself?” Bucky cut into your nervous rambling. You raised your head up to look at him and you swore you caught both hints of anticipation and disappointment lingering on his face.

“I didn’t want to disturb you. You should have some space to recuperate and I didn’t want to intrude-”

“Y/N, I don’t need space! I need you! You have no idea how much I wanted to see you after I woke up.” Bucky laughed at your explanation and stalked closer to you till you were chest to chest again.

You couldn’t believe what Bucky had said. You fidgeted nervously as you asked for confirmation once more. “You do?”

“Of course, doll. You are my everything.” Bucky raised his hand to caress the side of your face tenderly as he spoke.

A mix of emotions started to overwhelm you. You were moved by Bucky’s words but you suddenly felt immense guilt for making him think you abandoned him. A single tear cascaded down your cheeks as you willed yourself to look at him.

“I’m sorry, I never wanted you to feel that way. I missed you so much, I’m glad you’re back.” A smile formed on Bucky’s face when he heard your words. There had been so much longing between the two of you, so much unspoken feelings.

Now or never, you were ready to cross the line of this. Bringing both your hands up to cradle Bucky’s face gently, you smiled lovingly before you pushed your feet up to meet his lips.

Bucky suddenly wished he had his other arm back so that he can engulf you entirely; holding you so close that you would never leave. You took the kiss slow and gently, you wanted to savour this moment to the fullest after holding back for so long.

You pulled back from Bucky reluctantly and you steadied your heart before letting the words out.

“I love you, Bucky.”

The corner of his lips curved up at your confession. You loved him, you really did.

“I love you too, doll.” He spoke with such gentleness and sincerity that it had you smiling in equal enthusiasm. Bucky leaned in to kiss you once more, this time with longing and insatiable hunger.

You returned his fervour as your hands found their way from his chest to his neck and then to the sides of his face. The two of you pulled away to catch your breath and leaned your foreheads against each other’s.

Both of you mirrored each other with beaming wide smiles.

“Blehhhhhhh.” The two of you turned to see Goat Steve looking at the both of you with what it seems like a happy expression.

“Is he actually smiling?” You laughed as Goat Steve let out a happy sounding bleat.

“He’s a punk.” Bucky remarked with a laugh before turning back to looking at your laughing face fondly.

He was happy to have found you, his love.

———————————————————————

[onf-headcanons]

Another OFFICE AU aka CEO AU

A/n : Alas its not draft clearing but a brand new work for 2021 (but i still have some drafts as well)XD Hello, did any of you remember an idea dump I dropped for last year Christmas? you could easily guess which was it by tallying the mood board with the idea lists (*winks)

Setting :

1. OFFICE AU 2 , it is a brand new one where ONF member is a young CEO while you are his secretary. So I will name this one as CEO AU

Of course it does not hurt should you wanna imagine it as the already exist office au, using the idea dump posted for 2020 Christmas.

2. ONF MEMBER that I will integrate would be Hyojin and Seungjun as mentioned during the Christmas post, but I wont stop you for imagining other members, thats why in headcanons I will use ONF MEMBER instead their names. (For member X reader scenario)

3. In this headcanon, reader is slightly older than ONF member, maybe 2 or 3 years older. Same age is plausible, then it would be ONF member continued their studies further so they started working late.

ok lets go, beware its long and sorry if it is messy I tried my best to control 2 way storyline, I had fun writing but I know I am lacking much much more than I could notice. total 6k word count (dies)

1-1

• You work as assistant/secretary for the head of department/CEO in company before the young successor joins and his predecessor retires. • Because you tend to separate work life and private life, you established personality to look like ice queen on the outside (reality) but actually passionate carer on the inside (virtually). None of your colleagues knew, only your close friends • You have been using a chat app (not tinder type) for since you started intern, • 1. That app's specialty was anonymous. • 2. Its like a hideout spot where you can share and post whatever you love. (Because there are some co-workers added your FB or Insta and you felt it is a hassle to create another fake account exclusively to add people) • 3. Even though you tried and failed at 1 or 2 virtual relationships with other users, you never despise the thought of online dating. But you do know it’s not realistic so you never take it too seriously (it is also self-protection) • You would post some photos but mostly are just lunch pics, occasionally an outdoor view from your office floor, also some cute stationaries or accessories found on the way back home. (Just adding this trivia for fun linking the universe, maybe you pass by Minkyun’s flower shop as well?) • (It will be funny if your contents was more on sharing random idol pics that you follow, passionately promoting it hence creating a more impact contrast later when revealing) • One day you came across a post asking about what kind of cologne to buy for a predecessor who will be retiring. Being a good Samaritan, you leave a few suggestions under the post and did not really take it to heart, you forgot about it once you see the original author replied "Thanks" • Not knowing that 1 interaction would change your life forever.

1-2 • The next day, your superior announced his retirement and mentioned a young successor will join the company next month. And ONF member being the young successor does make rumors flying around the company, making people questioning his ability as he is related to company board of directors. The department you are in is under top 5 sales/profit bringing, so with a young successor would be inexperienced which might lead to drop of department reputation of course people are going to worry and gossip. • First impression with ONF member is actually ok. Well dressed, good looking and nice manners. The moment he followed his predecessor walks into the office floor, girls starts to make all sorts of gasping noises (lol) • Your superior mentioned that he bought a retirement gift for your superior deep down you approved at the selection of the cologne brand. • You might goes, this guy got sense, not bad. • One night after several days ONF member joined the department/company, you received a PM from a user, thanking you for the cologne recommendation. It took you a while to remember who it was. You politely replied him “You are welcome.” • The user also nonchalantly asked about how you can make such suggestion that pinpoints because by the glance at your profile, first impression could be very much misleading. • You just replied that you happened to know someone at that age who likes that type of scent hence the list of suggestions, what you did was just you taking the liberty to do a lucky guess. • Out of curiosity, you tap at the stranger’s avatar to get a glimpse of his profile, but out of your disappointment, there were no picture of his to know what he looks like. But there are pictures of scenery from places he travelled. • You also noticed that their “joined the app” days are way lesser than you are, quite a new user. • You found a few pictures of places you went before/ places that you want to go. Delighted, you started the conversation asking if he likes travelling and his next travel plans. • The other party replied briefly his plans and his experience during travels, from his words you know that he won’t be travelling overseas for the next 2 years as he had a new job and responsibility to learn. Instead he will be focusing on doing domestic travels. • His words made you reminisce your rookie days and you responded him that you understand him with empathy. You did not pry further but you do give him some encouragement, telling him that things will get better and once he got the hang of it, he will have more time on his own. (Yup at the moment you are thinking he is a freshman or newbie joining new company) • You timidly ask your new chat friend why they decided to join and use the app. He replied, “I don’t really play social media apps and I don’t want anyone to find me online, the anonymous system this app provides mental security for me.” • The reply was so different from those who are playing the app just for flirting and finding a quick date, you replied him, “Same as you.” • The conversation ends by the other party mentions he will need to be early for work and politely wishes you good night. The next morning you found the stranger has added you as friend, without any thoughts you tap on your screen and now you have a new mutual.

1-3 • Back to office, as ONF member is still new towards his scope of work, you would sometimes giving him advise and guides by sharing “What would his predecessor does.” or “What he can do by not violating company policy”. He takes advises well and would always inquire for your suggestion before making any critical decision. • Once he started to get the hang of it, you passed the torch of freedom to him because you are only a secretary/assistant. But he will still come to you, which you felt he was being dependent. (I feel if it is Minkyun, he will be more dependent should the scope of work is totally unfamiliar to him. Tendency of dependent to independent would be Seungjun, Hyojin, Yuto same par as Jaeyoung, Changyoon then Minkyun.) • (Of course sometimes there are some doubt raised regarding to policies and because he sees things in another perspective, you know he meant no harm but sometimes you wish he would just shut up and just follow the policy just for convenience sake+lessen damage. That’s because should any dissatisfaction of decision happens, colleagues will firstly come to interrogate you, hoping you to twist his decision or questioning your ability to lessen the damage done towards merit they/the department holds. AND YOU HATE PLAYING THOSE POWER MIND GAMES, even though the image you impose looked like you are skilled player.) • So there is some sense that being strict is you are trying hard to protect him and protecting yourself. • BTW ONF member, your new superior has a bright personality unlike his predecessor (huge reason is due to the age factor), even though inexperienced in work, he has good be friending skills. So people in the department felt it was less stressful working under him because he would do small talk with his underlings. (This hc is not suitable for Changyoon and Yuto during the beginning, due to their personality they would try but not suddenly initiating small talks on the first week joining.) • IT WILL BE FUNNY IF SOME FEMALE COLLEAGUE TOOK PITY ON HIM BY MENTIONING/GOSSIPING THAT YOU ARE TOO STRICT AGAINST HIM • Its not that you hate him or he does not have the ability to do his work, it’s just when he is standing on the opposing side against company policy it troubles you. • Every time when things like this happens, you would low-key complains by posting status on the chat app, mentioning you don’t hope for an understanding but you would hope those who are not in your shoes would shut up. Your mutuals mostly are office workers as well so resonates with your words. • Your new friend leaves a comment underneath the post you asking if you are doing alright, and hope you do not stress yourself too much. You thanked him for the mental support. • He will even PM you asking if you are doing alright, most of the time you don’t want to lose your cool plus you don’t think it is wise to abruptly rant towards a stranger as if they are emotional sandbag, so you will politely thank him and say that you are alright now. • Since you and your new friend work on the day, you two chat during the night and weekend, getting to know each other in a very casual pace. A bit of child hood and you both also shared your majors in studies. He told you that he used to study at overseas and he picked up hobby of travelling around a bit during those days. • You never turn on the app during lunch (to avoid people finding out) but your new friend does send you some messages during lunchtime. • As you and the new friend get to know each other, there has a few things in common, you two like talking about travels and you two read works by the same author • By the way the new friend is a he. You two are using ID names the whole time during chatting, because you have told him that you are not comfortable giving and knowing each other’s real name. He understands and respects that. • And you confirmed that he is slightly younger than you. Which you replied to him, “Oh my superior is same age as you.” • This new friend gives you a calm and mature vibe even though he is same age as your new superior. You could not help yourself but comparing. • The other party goes: “Wow, he must be a very successfully accomplished youngster.” • You go: “Nah, other than his outgoing personality that brings freshness to the department, he still got lots to learn.” • Your new friend then continues, “Your new superior is a lucky one, I can confidently say that because I have an excellent senior who would always look out for me.” • You respond, “Then you better treat them well.” • And he goes “Of course.”

1-4

• Work is as usual, possible you unintentionally eavesdropping and caught ONF member saying towards you (even better backing you up when some junior colleagues are reverse gossiping about you) : You know, Y/N might look cold and stern sometimes but actually a kind and gentle person. Y/N would always give out advice for the sake of the department/ company. • Cues you would fluster a bit by those words. • A few days later you are done briefing your superior their schedule. And ONF member suddenly ask if you are free for dinner. It’s already his 4th month in the company and wanted to properly thank you for guiding him with patience and prudence. • At first you wanted to decline him because you don’t want to deal with work related stuff after office hours, ALSO you don’t want anyone to start weird gossips. • Another reason is you don’t want to talk about yourself too much in front of your superior. Heck you even avoid your colleague’s invitations for dinner because you value your “me time” very much. • But looking at his anticipating face, you got soft and agreed that a coffee would suffice.  ONF member smiles at you suggest both of you to have coffee right now at Starbucks next to your company building. You are free to choose whatever drink you like. • Before both of you leave the room. And then you heard a familiar notification sound, you thought your heart is going to stop, that is the notification sound from the chat app you are using. You did not have your phone with you so it was obvious the sound comes from ONF member’s phone. • And that was a notification alert of the system has found someone nearby and presented to the user.  It got you curious and worried at the same time. • At Starbucks, ONF member had to answer a call, so you ordered his drink as well. • Later you see him start replying messages while waiting for orders to be done.  You wanted to have a peek at his user name but you are a few steps away and your instinct told you better don’t do that. What if it is already someone you already know? • “Curiosity killed the cat, remember?” You tell yourself. • Once you are at your desk, you took some deep breath to calm yourself and try to remember if you recalled wrongly but truth is you are accurate. You hurriedly checked you phone, there were no new messages and you are sure you have turned off location visibility.  Lucky for you it was never turned on to begin with. • You also kind of worried if your superior actually has a “fun” lifestyle after office hours. But, it’s hard to relate him to a playboy image when he looked like a friendly good boy. You shake your head and deny yourself. • “If (ONF member name) uses that app then I will need to be more careful.” you thought while sipping the frappe. So back at home, you started to alter all posts’ visibility to “Visible for mutuals only”. Took you nearly a whole night but better safe than sorry.

1-5 • More weeks pass by peacefully but one day a conflict happened between you and ONF member and some colleagues/minor members of the board.  He went ahead to announce that he decides (had a thought) to run a campaign/new rule (maybe a budget cut). The moment he finished his sentences, you know the seniors will not be happy with it. • Later after meeting, you politely confront with ONF member that he should discuss with you before announcing it on meeting. Plus, announcing without any advance preparation will put him and you in an awkward position as verbal announcement are not persuasive enough. Of course you are also worried that people might use this issue to tackle and exploit the cons of both of you being inexperience and young. • “With all due my respect, Mr.(ONF member name), it will be nice if you could discuss with me before dropping that bomb at the meeting.” you try not to sound fierce but your tone clearly does not sound you are cool with his actions at all. • “And later having you lecture me and stop me? You do know it was for the good of the company too right?” He retorts like usual • “Yes but no.” you try to fight back. “ It’s not that easy, there are people need to be dealt with and I don’t think you--” • Before you could finish, ONF member says with an eyebrow raised, “You don’t think I can handle it, because I am still unexperienced.” • You unconsciously frown and thinking, why is he suddenly trying to pick a fight deliberately today? Why is he suddenly trying to piss off seniors in the department/company? • ONF member then with firm tone, gives you suggestion, “Should you have anyone come to you and complain, tell them that you knew nothing at all and request them to talk to me directly instead.” • “I am the CEO, not you.” He adds. • You could not help but sigh, knowing there is not point arguing because he is not going to back down. And deep down you do know the new rule/budget cut will do more merit than harm. (Your focus is more on how deal with seniors employees not him for now because seniors are more pain in the ass compared to him) • But still there are people come to you and bug you while you are working and you can’t tell them to leave you alone hence it stresses you out. • You escape to the bathroom taking your phone with you and vents out at the app by posting a status mentioning you are just trying to do your job and wants a peaceful work days. • You also come across seeing your new friend posting a status prior your meeting time, it’s a photo of frappe you recommended him to try it out. He is thanking you for recommending it. • You could not help but feeling a bit jealous, should your title and work scopes are different/ should you are just normal employee rather than a CEO’s secretary, you might not need to face these kind of stress. • “Guess you have to bear what you signed up for huh?” you thought to yourself after 15 minutes cooling yourself down. • You switched your mind set and step out from bathroom. Returning to your place with your usual ice cold face. You are trying hard not to show that you are weak against stress. You are too immersed at people coming at you asking you questions, without knowing ONF member actually observing you with concerned gaze from his room. • That night, you receive a PM from your new friend asking if you are doing ok, as you never sound that upset before. He said he can lent an ear so you can tell him what happened. You spare him all the intricate details and tell him briefly that your superior made a mess and you need to clean it up also back his plan no matter you like it or not. • The whole progress he did not interrupt you nor tried to tell you what you should do, he let you type all the way until you finished. Once you are done, you asked, “I don’t know what might be up in his sleeves that it’s inconvenient for me to know beforehand but... Isn’t he a jerk, putting me into an awkward situation?” • Your friend backs you up and agrees with you that matters should be discussed, and critiques your superior actually could trust you more. • You thanked your friend for letting you to rant and mentioned you have accepted the fate because of the title and responsibility you hold in the company. That’s being professional and mature in office. • The other party replied that even if that is the case, he hope you don’t stresses yourself too much as it seems your new superior still needs your guidance and support. • You playfully replies, “Well I am not his babysitter XD, he will need to face a lot of issues by his own someday.” • “Why is that?” • “Well I can’t always be by his side though? I might get married and resign.” you reveal your future plans to your new friend, “Moreover, even I don’t resign, I might take pregnancy leave though?” • The other party comments, “I never thought you had that planned out.” • And he continues, “Your profile gives out the ‘I love my job so much.’ vibe” • You then back up your point by saying you do want that plan to work but too bad you are single now, so of course you are going to focus on your job more. Plus, you do not plan to find a partner in work place anyways. • The new friend leaves more supportive words and hoping it will cheer you up. By the end of the conversation, he also offers that you can come to him and rant should you need an ear. • You grin at his words and felt warm towards his actions. Rarely any of your mutual actually PM to check up on you. “Maybe he was just being nice.” you thought before you wish him good night.

1-6 • The next day, you are being summoned by your superior the first thing in the morning. He passes you a pile of documents and requests you to go through it. It a proposal regarding to the budget cut/new rule and he hope you can be his ally. His gaze is not as firm as yesterday, but it’s more of seeking approval and acknowledgement from you. • You let out a sigh and mutters, “You know, should you have hand this to me beforehand the situation won’t be that ugly.” And then you start to flip the pages. • “Sorry.” He apologizes. “But I really want to make it work. It’s also a handover work by my predecessor.” • “You look up upon him too much, ONF member, he is a sly fox just like the other seniors.” You do not mean to back stab but you are telling the truth. “Has it never come to your mind why he did not initiate the plan when he is here and requested you to initiate it when he is gone?” • “I know. But this move is going to benefit the company; I am willing to bear responsibility.” ONF member adds • You stop reading and look at your superior in the eye, “You better hope this work though, I don’t want my 5 months effort of guiding you goes to waste. And I hate the idea that I need to re- adjust my pace with a new superior.” • ONF member gets your intentions behind your words; he swiftly stands up from his chair and thanked you. “I owe you big one, Y/N. Another cup of coffee to thank you for reals?” • “No thanks, I will be busy. Next time.” You feel uncomfortable because the social distance between you two seems shortened, so you politely decline. • Luckily the whole budget cut/new rule policy worked out fine and by year end, benefits shows. You and ONF member can finally relax a bit knowing that you both have won the fight.

1-7 • Meanwhile, you did not stop interacting with your recent favourite friend. As you two got to know each other even more, both of you chat almost every day during the night. He never bores you and he can understand most of the topic you bring up. You are amazed that how can someone has so many things in common? • It spikes your curiosity and you ask him if a wonderful person like him has a partner in real life. He answers you that he is single, just like you are. • (You thought he is lying because he is such a nice guy, but of course you do tell yourself not to 100 percent trust everyone online) • Then he asks your opinion about online virtual dating. You honestly told him about your experience. But you added that even though you failed twice/thrice, you are not against it. • And that moment, you don’t know what has gotten into you, you playfully type, “You are asking my opinion on that as if you are preparing yourself” • “Prepare for what?” he asks • “To get yourself an online girlfriend.” You reply. • His respond reads, “Yes I am.” • ��That’s wonderful. That girl you will be confessing is a lucky one.” • “Yea, indeed you are.” • You pause for a moment when you saw the message. • “Wait, you serious? ME??” you quickly send him the message because you thought should you hesitate longer, the mood will turn awkward. • He replies you by sending you a heart emoji. • You give a quick thought, well it is interesting chatting with him and he does seem nice. Plus, it’s online anyway, you could call it off should he becomes toxic and annoying like your previous experiences. • “I wasn’t sure if you are ok with someone like me. “He continues. “I am fine if you want to call it off should you found someone in real life later on.” • “Don’t be silly, that should be my line.” You retort him. • And then you have it, another secret. You have an online boyfriend now. You both even declared each other as a pair of soulmate publicly on the app. But you two did not exchange selfies, keeping the relationship virtual and anonymous. • However you two always share interesting stuffs happen on daily. New book, new cd, a random shot of a puppy or cat you met on the street. • Also before year end, you overheard girl colleagues gossiping about your superior has a girlfriend now; you are not interested at his private life so you just let it slide. • But you did briefly mention it to your boyfriend. Not in a gossip tone, more of a life update share. • Of course there are some girl colleagues that are ok with you comes to you, hoping you leak some information about ONF member’s rumoured girlfriend. But of course you know nothing at all, leaving them with disappointed answer. • Fast forward to the week before Valentine’s Day. It is also 10th month since ONF member joins the company. • Out of the sudden, your online boyfriend suggests you two to meet up. You are not against it, and it’s not like you never met anyone you know from the app. Thinking why not knowing a new friend in real life, you agreed his offer. (Also because you are curious what he looks like so that you can understand why he was single before dating you) • You even inquired his preference in chocolate and promise bringing him some on official first date. • Your boyfriend thanks you and suggests a place for dinner. You knew that place, it’s expensive and you could not help but wondering if he is trying hard to match you. (You still thinks he is just a normal employee in a company) • But, your boyfriend only replies: “Don’t worry, it is the perfect spot, I could not think of others that are suitable to our taste.” • You can only acknowledge it because you don’t want to have an argument to blow up but deep down you could not help yourself to start doubting again. • “It’s going to be Ok, right?” you question your decision, but it’s too late.

1-8 • On Valentine’s Day, younger female colleagues in your office give out chocolate treats to younger male colleagues as friendship presents, some of course using the occasion to confess. • You don’t have the habit of presenting chocolate treats as a token of friendship appreciation at the office. But you are giving your date chocolate treat later; you hid yours in your bag carefully scared of being teased should anyone saw it. • ONF member gets some too. One female colleague even teases him if he is going to get chocolate from his girlfriend. And ONF member replies that he might get it later that night. • Of course ONF member will asks you for chocolate treat with an innocent face, you just bluntly tell him that you don’t have the habit to give out chocolate treats, he only pouts after listening to your respond. • By the way today you unintentionally changed your makeup (lipstick or eyeshadow). No one dared to make any comments but not your superior, ONF member. • He goes: “Y/N ah? Did something good happen on you? Are you going to a date tonight?” • You are typing quick report and his words caught you off guard. You flinched at his words. Hoping ONF member did not notice, you quickly lied by telling him simply ran out of your usual makeup colour. • But your superior teases you a bit, “Aww, I was hoping I could attend your wedding in near future. “ • You have gotten used to his socializing pattern, so you counter him by asking if he is going to bring his girlfriend to have a nice dinner at a grand restaurant. • And to your surprise, he revealed the place he will be having dinner with his partner. It’s the same place where you are heading to later. He had a special room booked exclusively for tonight’s date. • “Oh, Oh… Have fun and enjoy your dinner.” You force yourself to break a smile. • ONF member only smirks at you and gives you a few pats on your shoulders and says he will have an unforgettable night before returning to his room. Leaving you questioning the meaning of his actions that are unpredictable but also definitely intentional. • Of course you had a quick thought asking your boyfriend if it is possible to change location, you could not bring yourself to ask as you are worried you might sound rude/arrogant trying to change plans on the last minute. You deduced that since ONF member will be having dinner in a room, you might not going to bump into him. You and your boyfriend can just finish dinner quickly. • You could not have that bother you too much time because you need to finish your report so that you can leave on time. Once it reaches the end of office hours, the others started to leave. You made up a plan to leave after ONF member leaves the office. You keep raising your gaze to have a slight peek towards your superior’s room. • Seeing him finally standing up from his chair and adjusting his suit. You can tell he is finally leaving. He passes through your desk and asks, “Y/N ah, please don’t tell me you are planning to work overtime during this special day?” • You only smiles and tell him you are going to finish soon, “Don’t you have a dinner to attend?” you remind him without looking at him, acting as if you are typing the remaining contents of your report. • “Yea I do. See ya.” ONF member waves you goodbye. • You leave the office after 10 minutes. (As for method of transport to the restaurant, I will leave it to your choice.)

1-9 • You reach the building of the restaurant. You let out a sigh, hesitating to step in nonchalantly knowing ONF member is inside there as well. The least thing you definitely do not want to happen is ONF member finding you having a dinner date tonight. It’s embarrassing and it will break the balance of your work and private life. • While you are pacing in front of the building with hesitation, you receive a chat notification from the app. You open it and it was your boyfriend, notifying you that he has arrived, and he reminds you the restaurant located at 38th floor. • You nervously bite your lower lip knowing it’s too late and it is rude of you to cancel the date on last minute. He was a decent person to chat with and you don’t want to lose a good friend. You are blaming yourself for agreeing to attend this date too casually. And you also find yourself way too wary of your virtual boyfriend’s thoughts towards you should you now called him to cancel the date. • Then you heard a familiar voice called out your name and you turn your head towards the voice unconsciously. It’s ONF member, walking out from the building. You flustered and panicked by just imagining scenarios of him asking why you are here and other many more questions. • “OMG…. Shit shit shit….!” You cursed in your head, regretting your life decisions. Recalling the entire chat context between you two, this might be the worst thing ever to happen in your life. • He is grinning while reaching out to grasp your hand. You unintentionally try to back away from him but he was faster. You tried to pull your hand away but he pulls you toward him instead. You nearly bumped towards his chest. • “Y/N ah, I told you its 38th floor; you did not get my message?” ONF member asks as his smirks widens. • As he finished his words, you only look at the young guy in front of you with disbelief, processing his words. Seeing you froze due to the big plot twist, ONF member taps you on your forehead hoping to unfreeze you. • “It can’t be…You are (ONF member’s ID in the app)?! “You exclaim. • “Yeap.” He responds. • “Impossible…How?” you ask. “How did you know it was me?” • “At first I had my doubt when I first saw an old post of yours. You shot a sunset pic from our office floor by the window near the lift right?” he returns with another question. And man he is good at remembering details. • “Then I confirmed that it was you by the time I announced budget cut/new rules for the company/department. ” he explains   • “I…” You could not bring yourself to say anything, but you are not an idiot, “(ONF member name), did you risked your reputation in the company just to find out a stranger’s real identity?” • “No, I did not, I swear. I initiated the plan to suddenly announce the budget cut because I want to find out which board seniors will make a move to cover up themselves, as requested from my predecessor.” He knows you well to sense that you are angry, and he quickly denied. “I only know it was you when I checked up on you. Since then I have been dropping so many hints for you to realize, but it seems like you are the dense one here.” • You can tell he is telling the truth. • “This is absurd…” you mutter while placing your hand on your forehead. • ONF member let out a sigh and he shifts behind you, places his hands on your shoulders then pushes you forward. “Come on, I am starving we can talk about it later, you did not had a decent meal during lunch as well right?”   • He is right, you only had a mini croissant during lunchtime.

• You follow him without a word to the entrance of the building and enter the lift to 38th floor. ONF member has booked a nice room that both of you can enjoy the city’s night view.

1-10 • It was a luxurious dinner but you are not in the mood enjoying it. In fact you are so stressed that you could not even taste your food. You did not touch your dessert at all. • You only quietly trace the shape of wine glass in front of you while looking at the night view, hoping the night to pass quickly. • “You are not happy with me being your date, Y/N?” he suddenly asks. • You jolted and you finally look at him in the eye for the first time tonight. • “You startled me, I am still trying to grasp the situation here.” You reply him with a low voice, trying to act calm by casually bring your drink closer to you and hydrates your throat. • “Hey Y/N-ah, I know you mentioned before that you don’t like the idea of dating someone from the office, but…” his eyes are fixed on you. “I like you. Not just the virtual you, but also the real you.” • “I called you a jerk.” You know you should not bring it up, but you still did. • “Which I did act like one so, no hard feelings.” He accepted. “I am truly sorry about that, I was trying to prove myself way too hard.” • Now it got awkward since he apologized without any complaints. You don’t know what to say and avert your gaze again. • “You know, Y/N ah, when you are stressed, you tend to avoid other people’s eye contact. “he breaks the silence.  “And you are doing that ever since you reached here.” • Upon hearing his words, you flinched and exchange eye contact with the young man sitting in front of you. • “And oh, and you flinch as well.” He adds, “Which is very adorable in my opinion.” • “(ONF member’s name), I …” you try to explain yourself but he cuts you off. • “It alright, you don’t have to push yourself, I have made you stressed out way too much today.” ONF member smiles at you while saying based on what he observed. • He finally stands up and offers to send you home. You could not decline him because you felt terribly sorry for ruining such as nice date. • “I am sorry, should it is another girl, it will be a terrific night for you.” You apologized before leaving his car. • “Don’t worry; it is an unforgettable night for me.” He responds with his usual smile. • Back at your place, you are frustrated that the night ended up in an awkward and weird way. You only noticed that you did not get to hand him the chocolate treats as promised. • You cannot sleep that night, gazing at the chocolate treats as you holding the package in your hands. You cannot tell if you messed up or you are lucky that he happened to like you. • You wanted to consult a random mutual of yours but you hesitated. Because at this point you are not sure if you actually have the full grasp on the situation. And you don’t want a biased reply. • “It’s just this boyfriend of yours happened to be him, I guess?” you murmur to yourself. But that did not clear up your mind enough for you to make any decision towards the situation. • Several days passed, ONF member did not send any message to you in the chat app. He acted like usual back in office, but it does not look like he has any intention to talk about what happen between you two either. • (The problem is you cannot look at him in the eye) • You are troubled if you should initiate the first move. It’s not like you hate him, you never did in the first place, it’s just he annoys you sometimes. • Then you overheard ONF member having small talk with colleagues, and they ask about his Valentine’s Day. He only replies it was an unforgettable night and he is glad that he is able to meet his girlfriend, it was better than never meeting her at all.

1-11 • From his words, you gain a bit of courage and decided to make your first move. • The next day you arrived at the office earlier than usual, you take out something from you bag and places small gift box on ONF member’s desk. The small box has a memo attached to it. • You hurried back to your desk, acted as if nothing happened while the office starts have more and more colleagues coming in. ONF member arrives later on and he greets you before heading in his room. • You take some quick glances, making sure ONF member notices your belated Valentine’s day gift. • He did noticed and read the memo you attached, then he made a confused look but he adjusts his facial expression immediately as he sees you stood up from your place. • You head to his office room to brief his morning schedule. Like usual, you step into his room, closes the door and starts the briefing. ONF member stares at you with a puzzled expression while sitting on his chair. • Once you done your part and you ask him if he has any schedules to add into the list, he places the gift box into your view and pushes it towards you. • “What do you mean by this?” he inquires. • “I promised you chocolate for Valentine’s day, sorry I was late.” You purposely answer him the wrong information. “ Don’t worry I made a brand new ones.” • “You know I meant this.” He pulls out the memo has his eyes fixed on you. • The memo wrote, “(ONF member’s ID), Let’s call it off --- (Your ID)” • “That’s how it is.” You tried not to break into a smile, you are getting your revenge and this is fun. “You are the one who said you are fine to call it off if either one of us found someone in real life right?” • ONF member pauses for a moment, his eyes wandering then he admits he did say that. • “Well you found someone in real life, so there is not point for us to continue virtual dating on the app anymore right?” you slightly let out a victorious smirk as you ask him. • ONF member finally gets what you mean and he let out a smile. He puts down the memo and pushes himself up from his chair and walks towards you. • Thankfully the design of his room is made up of walls, once the wooden door is closed; no one knows what happens inside. • “So, you are fine with us dating in real life then?” You can feel his breath as he is only one step away from you. This time you are not going to back away and you look at him straight in the eyes. • “I will need to adjust a bit. You have a problem with me being your girlfriend?” you reply with him with another question. • ONF member unconsciously let out another smile, he quickly hides it with his hand,  “No, not at all…” and those were the words you can hear coming out from him • “That settles it then.” You widen your grin towards him before turning around ready to leave his office. • But you are being pulled back by a pair of arms. Your back come contact to his chest area. He is hugging you from behind you. • “Seriously, I don’t get you.” He low key complains. “I thought you are going to hate me for real this time.” • “I was going to, you did not texted me and you acting like nothing happened after that night.” You pout as you explain to him. “I thought I have ended my career the moment you told me who you are. And who would have thought a decent CEO would date someone randomly they met in a online chatting app?” • “I am sorry; I thought leaving you unbothered for some time so that you don’t get stressed out.” You could tell from his tone he does feel apologetic. He never sounds like that before during work.

• "But I am dead serious on trying to start a proper relationship with you that’s why I suggested for us to meet up.” he continues. “Glad you felt the same.”

• You freed yourself from his hug and turn to him. • “Now listen, (ONF member’s name), as we are professionals, I do hope you understand that there is a clear line between work and private life.” You remind him. “Just because we are dating now, does not mean that I am going to let you off easily if you messed up during work, ok?.” • “Man, I don’t think I will ever win you huh?” ONF member only look at you affectionately and continues, “As you wish, my beloved assistant/secretary.”

A/N : the concludes for this oneshot headcanon fic should there are more ideas I might write a continuation about this pair for a part 2. Also thinking of linking the universe with MInkyun Florist AU, just a maybe. 

[thexfridax]

© Claire Mathon

Translated interview with Director Sciamma

‘We started a culture war‘

Andreas Busche and Nadine Lange, in: Der Tagesspiegel, 29th of October 2019

Additions or clarifications for translating purposes are denoted as [T: …]

Manifest on the female gaze: Céline Sciamma speaks about her period film ‘Portrait of a Lady on Fire’, MeToo in France and queer visibility.

In France, Céline Sciamma, born in 1978, is already revered as the new feminist and notably queer voice of French cinema, in the tradition of Claire Denis and Catherine Breillat. The director (‘Tomboy’, ‘Girlhood’), who writes her own screenplays, is largely unknown in [T: Germany]. This is most likely about to change with her fourth and most beautiful feature film so far. At the Cannes Film Festival, the period love story between the young painter Marianne and her model Héloïse, daughter of French aristocrats, won the Best Screenplay. Between the rugged landscape of the coast of Brittany and the candlelit interiors of an old villa, the film creates a utopia of solidarity and female desire, in which the characters of Marianne, Héloïse and Sophie the maid overcome class barriers.

Interviewers: Ms Sciamma, ‘Portrait of a Lady on Fire’ is your first period film, it takes place a few years before the French Revolution. Why is this era important for your story?

Céline Sciamma: My interest in those years came from art history. At the time, there was an unusual number of female painters, hundreds in France and across Europe. It really moved me to discover the biographies of these women, who had successful careers. They supported each other and were very political. There was for example feminist art criticism at the time.

I: Noémie Merlant plays the painter Marianne, who is commissioned to do a portrait of Héloïse, a daughter of aristocrats. There are two main themes: the representation of female painters in bourgeois society and the female gaze – and how this [T: gaze] is reflected in the art world at the time. How are these themes connected?

CS: When I went into more detail about the work of female painters in the late 18th century, I realised how much the female perspective is missing from art history. For me this is the most painful loss, which results from the elimination of the female gaze: this relates to the artwork themselves, but also to what art brings to our lives, the memory of a kind of intimacy.

I: Marianne is not based on a specific female painter. But is she representative of women at the time?

CS: I collaborated with an art sociologist, who did extensive research on this era. All biographical details for Marianne correspond to the time in which she lived. The dynamics of a biopic – a successful woman who defies societal norms – never really interested me. My film is a manifest on the female gaze. But there’s also melancholy in this process, because we have to restore something that has been ignored for a long time.

I: Why melancholy?

CS: It makes me sad, because this perspective was withheld from me all my life. That is why the scene, where Marianne, Héloïse and Sophie the maid re-enact an abortion, is so important for the film. By painting an abortion, the act becomes art and is therefore represented. Art gives women the opportunity to tell their own stories. But it’s not only about the past. The topic of abortion is still virtually invisible in cinema.

I: How do you deal with this lack of female perspectives as a screenwriter and director?

CS: I was aware about the lack of queer and lesbian representation in cinema early on. But it becomes dangerous, when we don’t realise anymore that something is withheld from us. I noticed this again, when I watched ‘Wonder Woman’ by Patty Jenkins. It is hard to express how you feel when you know you’re not represented, and at the same time are oblivious to the power it can give you to recognise yourself in cinema. That was a new experience for me.

I: You were one of the initiators of the 50/50 by 2020 movement, which is committed to gender parity at festivals and in film. What do you expect from Cannes next year?

CS: I’m glad that this topic is finally taken seriously. We set out our target for Cannes and want more transparency in the selection committee. However, to achieve these, you have to introduce quota. The board will be replaced [T: next] year, let’s see how it works. We started a culture war. One of the most important things for me is the work on inclusion. The 50/50 [T: movement] and the film production/promotion agency CNC created a fund for cultural diversity in [T: film] productions last year. There’s usually less budget for films made by female directors, this inequality will be slightly mitigated. More than 20 films have already benefitted from this fund.

I: There is progress on one hand, but on the other hand some things are deteriorating again. Do you see it in a similar way?

CS: We had no MeToo-debate in France, unlike the one in the US. The [T: debate] was quickly hijacked and reinterpreted as discussion about free speech: that feminist film criticism would lead to a new form of censorship. You could feel the backlash in France. A good example: Sandra Muller, who created the French MeToo movement ‘Balance ton Porc’ [T: ‘Denounce your pig’, see here for the evolution of the term ‘pig’ in this context] just lost a libel lawsuit. Action was filed by the man, whose harassing statements she made public. The level of societal discourse is not where it’s supposed to be.

I: You lead by example: There are mainly women working on your sets.

CS: It creates a different atmosphere, that is for sure. But I’ll tell you something: Women only make up 50% of the crew, my crew is probably one of the most diverse in France. Claire Mathon is my cinematographer, but a lot of men work with her. My cutter is a man though. It’s about the right balance. The film world is very much dominated by men, but I don’t want to exclude anyone.

I: In Cannes, you said something similar about your colleague Abdellatif Kechiche, who was criticised for his voyeuristic gaze on women, for example in the Palm d’Or winner ‘Blue is the Warmest Colour’. Do you want a cinema, in which your and his gaze can exist side by side?

CS: We have to be conscious about our perspective. In France, I’m always asked about my female gaze, but no one is ever asking a [T: male] filmmaker about his male gaze. Which is still considered as gender neutral. Of course, you can love ‘Blue is the Warmest Colour’ as much as you love ‘Portrait of a Lady on Fire’ [T: 😈], otherwise cinema will become a battlefield of ideologies. We just have to learn to read the images correctly. I would like to invite Abdellatif Kechiche to this relatively new discourse. But he should be asked the same questions as me.

I: You call ‘Portrait of a Lady on Fire’ a manifest on the female gaze. What does that mean?

CS: It starts with the screenplay. I wanted to tell a love story on equal terms. There is no gender-specific power imbalance in the film. That was important for me, especially in a time, in which gender inequality was the social norm. There is also no intellectual dominance between Marianne and Héloïse, they both come from the upper class, are sophisticated and self-determined. Between them, they did not have to negotiate a status.

I: What role did your actresses play in this?

CS: I wrote the film for Adèle Haenel. But it only works if she has a partner who is equal to her. Noémie Merlant is about the same age as Adèle, they are even the same height, which cannot be underestimated in cinema. That’s why shorter actors often have to stand on a pedestal. All these considerations are political, but they are also an offer to the audience: for new emotions, for surprises. Equality creates freedom, because social rules are overturned.

I: As Marianne, Héloïse and Sophie keep to themselves, they are not exposed to the male gaze. They can move freely.

CS: That’s why I don’t think of my film as social utopia. Every utopia is based on our experiences and ideas. You cannot easily find this kind of solidarity among women, you have to create this freedom. That’s why I decided to exclude male characters. What I exclude from the shot also defines what is shown in the picture. That’s the power of cinema.

I: Your film is about the visibility of women. They tell each other, how they see one another – and thus create an image of themselves. At the same time, desire arises from their gazes. How do you create this feeling of intimacy?

CS: We offer a philosophy and politics of love. Even the depiction of queer sexuality in cinema is based on heterosexual paradigms. We first had to learn how to deconstruct this gaze on us. Similarly, it’s also about abolishing the outdated ideal of the muse. There is of course a hierarchy on set, but we tried to transfer the working relationships in the film to our shooting.

I: All your films have queer aspects. Do you ever had any problems to fund your films?

CS: No, but that’s because I don’t need so much money. ‘Portrait of a Lady on Fire’ did cost 4 Million Euros. If I had asked for 12 Million Euros, it might have been different. I can’t complain. I live in a country, in which I can make these kinds of films and be radical. 23 percent of French films are made by female directors.

I: It seems like there were more [T: female directors] recently?

CS: No, the figure has been constant for 20 years. We are just forgotten and then ‘rediscovered’. Think about Alice Guy-Blanché, who made films at the time of Méliès [T: around the turn of last century]. She did everything by herself, used the first closeup. She literally co-invented the cinema. But like all the women, who were active at the beginning of film history, they were driven out, when it was suddenly about money.

Still from ‘Be natural: The Untold Story of Alice Guy-Blaché’ (Pamela B. Green, 2018)

[facepalming-since-chernobyl]

If you ever want to write a full account of your hospital stay, I'm so here for it. I want it all: the farts, the grannies, the fighting over windows, the other weirdos, why you want to murder the doctor and how your fam will help you get away with it, the works. Start writing while I grab the popcorn! 🍿

Ok, don’t remember what I have said here already, so I’ll give a full story plus some flashbacks from my childhood.

-I got 4 grannies in my room, the average age: 65+

-granny number one: ultra Catholic, made a cross on my forehead (I was so shocked, I didn’t say a shit, aside of screaming in my head – woman?! Covid restrictions?! Keep your distance?!), a farmer woman (one day she just said that when she wants a chicken soup, she goes outside, catches the chicken, chops the head and make a soup – the faces of the other grannies - PRICELESS), praying in weird moments, instead of sweat pants, wearing dress shirts and dress pants (and you know, we were doing physical exercises there???), loving dirty jokes and making them A LOT,

-granny number two – tiny old sweet lady (she was like 80 something years old?), usually sitting in the corner or on the balcony and praying silently, she was like Catholic kamikaze, she sometimes was sitting on the balcony and praying for FIVE HOURS, oh, and once shitted her pants

-granny number three – ex school director, Miss Ooooow, Ooooow, came with 2 suitcases and occupied ½ of the wardrobe (for example, I managed to put all my things in my night stand), was very surprised I came with so little clothes and was washing them, was crying when she had to wash her hair because she always goes to hairdresser…

-granny number four – on a wheelchair, my best pal, making her own cigarettes at evenings on the canteen (a place where the meals were served, close to the balcony), as much done with the other ladies as I was,

-our room were filled with weird Turkish soap operas (the first time they turned the television on some Mahmud wanted to kill some Bahar and the dialogues were so cringy I had to check if it was a real show and surprisingly it was). Every day after I was evacuating my ass to the canteen or to the balcony where I was reading (I’ve finished 19 books and my ass still hurts because of the fucking hard chairs).

-if it was not a Turkish soap opera, it was Polish News on the public channel (Imagine FOX news), so every fucking day when it was played, the traitors of Polishness and Polish tradition and the only good ruling party like me, were gathering in the canteen. We were like a few folks (me, the granny number 4 and some dude doing crosswords and having super high blood pressure, mostly because all dudes from his room were watching the news and agreeing with everything what was said there)

-food, examples

-so I was not eating too much, so granny number one made a cross on my forehead and blessed me, so I would eat more and have a strength to give birth to children – I shit you not

-when I said I don’t want children – they almost had a collective heart attack. I decided to not reveal my other social, religion and political opinions, because I would be strangled to death in my sleep by a rosary one night

-one day I was stupid too much and didn’t leave the room while they were watching Polish Fox News and while half listening to the bullshit I probably made a fuck-my-life-face. When they ask what I was thinking about, my, a fucking idiot, said that about the vanity of life. They almost got another collective heart attack and almost ran to the nurses, no idea why but whatever

-Granny number 3, was afraid of other people snoring, because she had problems with sleep. In the end she was the one who snored the loudest

-there was an opening/closing the windows war. Granny 1 had sick lungs and asthma and whatever so was always closing the window because she was getting pneumonia and oh my god, while Granny 3 had problems with breathing, was suffocating and oh my God, so she was always opening the window. Granny number 3 was always opening the window while other already left for the meals, while Granny number 1 was always returning first and complaining SOMEONE was trying to kill her with the cold air and closing the windows. HILAROUS stuff

-on the end of the first week I ACCIDENTALLY broke a small window that was situated on the top, a window that supposedly was not meant to be open, so for the next 2 weeks we had a window opened ALL the time. Don’t ask why no one called some dudes to fix it, I have no idea, but thanks to it I survived the nights full of symphonies of farts

-that one day they gave us beans for the dinner and boy, you can only imagine

-one day we got a meat chops with a crispy batter. If you added the batter on the bottom to the batter on the top of the meat, they were thicker than meat itself

-all soups tasted the same. One day they gave us a soup and I was SURE it was a pickled cucumber soup and I was AMAZED that they managed to make it without cucumbers. Then I have learnt it was a sorrel soup *sad music in the background*

-the grannies loved to motherhen me for some reason. For example, I was sitting politely in the canteen, reading another fucking book, when one of them came and said I should not read so much, it’s unhealthy and they are worried about me. I was blinking for 30 seconds, wondering if laughing like a mad hyena would make them having another collective heart attack. In the end I just mhm-ed and continued reading.

-later I have learnt they were behaving like that, because they thought I was in middle school…

-basically, I was the youngest person on the ward and some nurses and other patients felt sorry for me because I didn’t have anyone in my age to talk… and I was like… why the fuck I should have been feeling sad? I could read and NOT TALK??? Also, or reading or murdering the grannies with a plastic spoon in their sleep, so thank you very much, leave my ass alone.

-on one dinner I basically ate pasta with pepper, because the spinach, guys, the spinach was awful and I’m not going to traumatize you with the pic

-I had a deal with the crosswords dude during breakfasts and suppers – was giving him ham and cold meat, he was giving me jam

-the Granny number one was SLEEP SINGING one night

-two days per every week some farmer was coming and selling his vegetables and fruits. Guys, all patients were buying food there, for sure I was weeping while buying plums, apples and tomatoes.

-Granny number three was super annoying and acting like a bitch aka typical ex school director, because when she wanted to watch something in TV at night, she always did even if the others were upset, but when she wanted to go to sleep at 9 she owww owwww owwwwed and was turning the lights off. So, sometimes I was returning at 9 to the room and it was dark. And there were no night bedside lamps, so it meant you needed to go to sleep too. At fucking 9.

-the face of one dude who was eating with us on one table was always priceless every time when he was opening the boxes. It was a personification of a man who was done, crying inside and knowing he can’t escape

-the most traumatizing experience after my hip surgery was PEEING. The nurse brought me a bed pan and I needed to pee while laying on my back and it was weirdly difficult, maybe because the nurse was standing over me, talking to another patient. Also, I can’t imagine taking a shit while laying, but whatever. On one moment after like a minute me trying hard, she put a hand on my stomach and said, oh so hard. My face was probably a mix between: ==’ and O.O. But in the end I succeeded, yay…

-another traumatizing experience is measuring the temperature every morning around 6. You know, you are sleeping, but suddenly feel some movement, so you open your eyes and a nurse, wearing a mask is aiming a thermometer that looks like a gun at your forehead. Amazing feeling

-I talked with some dude who had the same surgery aka hip removal, but he was not sleeping so he herd everything, and said how blood was gushing all over the place and the surgeons and the nurse was bringing the artificial hips three times, because the surgeons were not sure if they are the good ones. FUN

-btw, the first time when I saw a dead body was in a hospital. There was a ward where one room was for children, the rest was for adults after accidents etc. Sometimes someone died and they were usually putting the dead body to the bathroom on the corridor (no toilets at the rooms, it was one of the two bathrooms for whole ward). They usually put an “out of service” paper on the door, but sometimes they forgot about it. So, one night, me, sleepy and yawning went to the toilet, opened the door and hellooooooooooo the end of my innocence.

-the most stressful experience from my childhood hospital stayings was “did you defecate yesterday”? Because if you didn’t for a few days an enema was waiting

[precuredaily]

Precure Day 203

Episode: Yes! Precure 5 Go Go! 05 - “A Letter to Student Council President Karen” Date watched: 1 January 2021 Original air date: 2 March 2008 Screenshots Transformation Gallery Project info and master list of posts

If they find out I’m faking being good at everything, my life is ruined, got that?

Our character reintroduction/Syrup learns to be a real boy arc continues! Today it’s Karen’s turn to influence him. Let’s dive in!

The Plot

When we left off, Urara had discovered King Donuts, but he was asleep. The episode picks up at school, presumably the next day. Karen ushers everyone into the Student Council room so they can discuss their next steps and/or advertise the assorted functions of the toys. They try to wake the King up by transferring him from Urara’s CureMo to the Rose Pact as well as using the Futon they acquired in an earlier episode. Their shameless advertising is interrupted by two members of the student council who come looking for Karen. They show her that the suggestion box that they set up is now filled with letters for them to take into consideration.

we suggested that you give us names other than “Student A” and “Student B”

(incidentally “Student A”, who I believe is the one on the left, is played by Oki Kanae, who will play Love in Fresh Precure)

After the OP, the scene changes to Scorp’s office in Eternal HQ. He is pondering how to get the Rose Pact while Bunbee offers some backhanded compliments about the difficulty of such a task and plays the fool. His new names for Scorp this episode are Scoop and, of all things, Ketchup. After Scorp storms off out of annoyance, Bunbee decides to see how hard it could really be, so he heads to the school to look for items from the Collection.

Meanwhile, Karen and the student council are reviewing the suggestions they received and determining whether they can implement them. The ideas include getting more novels for the library, decorating the hallway and giving the art club somewhere to display their work (these two solve each other), and installing a flower garden in the courtyard. Nozomi makes some suggestions of her own, including making summer break longer and doubling the size of the yakisoba bread sold at the cafeteria.

that is the appropriate reaction

Komachi wonders whether Karen is stretching herself too thin, but Karen assures her that she has help from everyone, and she’s happy for this program because people help her to see the things she can’t.

The next scene shows a student dropping a letter in the box, which suddenly glows. It cuts to Syrup on the clock tower, thinking about his interactions with the girls over the last few episodes, when suddenly Mailpo receives the student’s letter addressed to Karen, so Syrup heads to their school to deliver it. He gets roped into helping Otaka (the lunch lady/undercover principal) and she repays him in pancakes. Karen comes to talk about a request to address long lines at the cafeteria and recognizes Syrup. The delivery boy remembers his delivery and hands her the letter, which is a request to look into some thefts from the art room. Karen is curious why a letter from the suggestion box rerouted to Mailpo, and Syrup tells her there’s always a reason, so she brings him along to find out why. When they arrive at the art room, they discover Bunbee hauling away with student projects under the mistaken belief that they’re valuables from the Collection. When confronted, he double-checks his list and decries the artwork as worthless before attacking her. This insult annoys Karen, who transforms into Cure Aqua to fight him. Bunbee turns a bust outside the classroom into a Hoshiina and tries to ransack the art room some more, but Aqua protects it, against Syrup’s concerns, because she was asked to.

It looks like she’s outmatched, but the other girls show up in the nick of time to support her and validate her feelings. The Hoshiina is still a tough opponent for all five of them, but Aqua absolutely refuses to let it destroy the art room, espousing that there is nothing in the school that wouldn’t matter if it were lost. Her strong feelings let her perform her new finishing attack, Sapphire Arrow, which is our first archery-based attack in the franchise (but not the last). It destroys the Hoshiina while Bunbee flees. Syrup watches from safety, a little befuddled by the idea that he was tasked with delivering the letter because Karen felt strongly about respecting the request.

On a later day, the five girls and Mr. Kokoda approach the cafeteria, surprised that there seems to be a larger than usual crowd but not the expected line, and the girls discover Syrup working there. Otaka introduces him as Amai Shiro, her new assistant. She slips in a remark that she’s paying him in pancakes (protip, that’s illegal) and there’s awkwardness all around.

The unusual situation is interrupted when the student council girls show up with the suggestion box again, this time full of thank you letters. Karen sits down to read them and Nozomi, Rin, and Urara read Otaka’s menu and realize it’s got a bunch of new stuff on it. Karen comes across one letter that’s actually a drawing of the five of them which says to do her best. Komachi beams at her and Karen hugs the letter to her chest as she things about how fortunate she is to have these friends.

The Analysis

This is another strong episode, although it lacks a certain oomph that the previous one had. I really enjoy seeing Karen in her element, doing her utmost as the student council president to make school life better. It reminds me a lot of episode 14 of the previous series, where all the clubs needed new equipment, and Karen helped them by solving one problem with another. Her unwavering devotion to the student body shows that she’s truly a good student council president, and her earnestness to answer the wishes of the student who raised concerns about the stolen artwork is really moving. 

I gotta say that I don’t feel like the Eternal plot is really going anywhere. I know it’s a strange thing to say about the villains, especially this early in the show, but I just do not understand the story angle. I love the evil corporation concept, but right now it seems like Nightmare did it better. Eternal leans more heavily into the paperwork and writing reports, which is a good gag when they use it, but this episode just features Bunbee annoying Scorp and then stealing a bunch of student art projects. The idea was for him to prove that finding this stuff isn’t so hard and show up Scorp, but he mistakes art projects for pieces of the Collection somehow? It makes him look incompetent, which is not unusual for Bunbee of course, but it seems like a new low from the former Nightmare executive whose previous plots involved threatening hostages to get what he wanted. Scorp, as well, has not shown the same degree of menace he did in his initial appearance. More on that next episode.

The B-plot with Syrup is enjoyable and helps round out the episode nicely. He’s largely kept to himself, but he’s starting to really think about how far the Precures go to protect their ideals, and it may yet have an effect on him. Of course, this self-reflection is short lived because he’s tasked with delivering a letter as an excuse to learn about Karen’s strong feelings, and in the process he gets roped into helping Otaka. He protests a bit, but clearly he enjoys it enough to agree to fully work for her, even if he’s mostly interested in eating her pancakes (although the real reason could be so he can stay close to the Precures and learn from them, as well as helping to protect the Rose Pact). It’s a well thought-out setup that allows for some nice gags and keeps Syrup on hand in future episodes.

I enjoy these sorts of day in the life episodes with the girls resolving mundane problems, they have a tendency to feel the most satisfying. I checked the director’s history and he has a history of storyboarding and directing episodes like this. The writer also previously wrote some of the best episodes of Yes 5 of a similar nature, so it’s another good team that comes together. The art and animation was actually a little better and more consistent than the last episode, but there was no standout moment of amazing animation like that wonderful turnaround. I realize you can’t have them all the time, but in an otherwise great episode, I was hoping for another stellar moment such as that. Ah well. Consistently good is plenty, and it makes my galleries look nicer.

Next time on Precure Daily, King Donuts wakes up, and Rin goes to sleep. Look forward to it!

Pink Precure Catchphrase Count: 0 kettei!

[goldenmazzello]

Lay all your love on me | Part 1

(I don't own this gif. Credits to the owner)

Warning: Flashbacks. Language. Mentions of poor mental health, angst.

W/C: 2.8k.

A/N: Hello! This is the first part of Lay all your love on me. You can find the next parts on my pinned masterlist here.

MASTERLIST 

Your last day on set has finally arrived. It's amazing how time flies when you're busy doing things you really love, surrounded by magnificient people. It makes you forget about your every day routine and to have some fun from time to time.

Everybody was getting their make-up done for the last day of filming. As you entered the trailer in order to get yours done, a sweet, delicate voice called you.

"(Y/n)! Are you ready for our last day?" Lucy asked with a bright smile on her face while sitting on her personalized black chair, which had her name written at the back.

You smiled. "To be honest, I'm not doing too well, I'm gonna miss you guys so much." You said with a pouty face. Lucy said she would miss all of you too. 

“Oh, nice baby bump!” 

You furrowed your brows but then you remembered. You were wearing a fake silicone belly, since your character was going to be pregnant in that scene. 

“Yeah, he’s kicking so hard.” You joked. 

You sat on your chair as your assistant helped you put your wig.  You laughed at your reflection in the mirror. "I still can't used to this wig." You found it odd to wear a blonde wig.

“At least they didn’t give you a perm!” Joe appeared holding two cups of coffee on each of his hands. “Here you have, my wonderful wife.” he approached you and gave you one of the cups. You laughed at his comments. 

“Thank you, Mr. Deacon.” You thanked him and left a kiss on his cheek.

Joe bringing you coffee on set every morning became a habit, one you were very delighted with. He was so kind with you that you swore your heart could just melt for every little thing he did for you. 

And while drinking your coffee, you remembered your very first day on set and how you and Joe started talking. 

Filming had already started by your first day on set. Today, you would meet the entire cast of the wonderful movie you were going to take part in. You felt an overwhelming joy for being part of such an incredible project, not only because it was a big step in your career as an actress, but also because you were a Queen fan. And it was your very first time in London.

Your very first scene was Freddie’s birthday party. You greeted all of your new cast mates before paying attention to the director’s indications. 

You sat between two of your cast mates. One of them was wearing a long-haired blonde wig and the other a long-haired brown one with a strange fringe. You were wearing a wig as well. It was a black-haired one with a fringe and low pony tails falling over your shoulders. Your eyes had a beautiful emerald eye-shadow which you weren’t very comfortable with but you didn’t care, you were another person now, it was your job.

As they started filming, you kept a conversation with the actor that played John Deacon’s role, your husband, of who you didn't remember his name. You smile at each other and them you both joined the conversation that the others were having about Freddie’s life as his mom stood up and looked for family pictures.

The director decided to take some breaks in between the scenes. It was a good opportunity to introduce yourself and to make some new friends. 

“Hey, nice to meet you. I’m Ben.” said the blonde one who was next to you and you told him your name. The other actors joined him and all of you started talking. There was something strange in one of them, the one who was next to you and introduced himself as Joe. Why was he talking so weird? 

“Why are you doing a bad American accent?” You asked him laughing. He furrowed his eyebrows and opened his mouth but didn’t say anything, he looked as if he was trying to find the words to say. “B-but, t-that’s my voice.” he said confused. 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.” You said and covered your face with your hands. That’s why you don’t have friends, stupid, you said to yourself. 

Your face was burning and you felt absolutely embarrassed. How long have you been on set? Three hours? And you were already causing trouble. 

He laughed. “Nevermind. What an awesome compliment. I mean, I’ve been working on it so hard and you thought that I was actually British but...What’s wrong with my voice? I think it’s a pretty convincing American accent. Anyway, thanks for the compliment.” 

“I’m really really sorry, I don’t know why I said that.” Your face was still red. You wished the Earth would swallow you, you wanted to disappear from his sight. He put his hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, you don’t need to apologize. I really meant what I’ve said, it was a nice compliment, I’m prouder of myself now!” He assured you and gave you an expression that indicated everything was okay and there wasn’t anything bad at what you had said, he wasn’t mad at that. 

You weren’t very convinced but after getting closer to him the following days, you realized that he was telling you the truth and there wasn’t anything you should worry about. After that, you both talked about each other’s lives. You found out he lived in New York, just as you. He was from there but you were from New Jersey. You told him how you ended up moving to New York to study and work on your acting career. Since that day, you both became very good friends. And the same thing happened with Ben, Gwilym, Rami and Lucy, you became close to them because of your new friendship with Joe. 

“Let’s take a picture for Instagram.” Joe suggested. You stood next to him, with your right hand covering half of your mouth showing surprise and Joe put one of his hands on your fake belly and the other did the same as yours. 

Lucy took the photo. 

@Joe_Mazzello: Say hi to the Deacon family! @(y/n)(y/s/n) #BohemianRhapsody #Queen #DeaconFamily 

~

The director was giving the last indications for the scene. We will rock you. You were on a sofa next to Joe, having a conversation as Ben did the same with the actress who played his wife and the one who was Gwilym’s wife sat there looking at him, while he was looking at Rami, completely annoyed. The girls were very good actresses but unfortunately, they weren’t very close to the rest of the cast and won’t be joining the future tour press since they have another projects in the pipeline. 

“You look so funny in that blonde wig.” Joe teased you, knowing that you hated it. 

Actually, Joe wanted to tell you that you looked beautiful, as always, but he wasn't bold enough to do it.

"Shut up or I'll take your wig off." You threatened him, he mocked you and rested his head on your shoulder.

And after that, Gwilym ordered everybody to join him. He came up with the beat of a new song he had been working on. Suddenly, all of you were clapping your hands at the third beat as Rami appeared and apologized for being late. He asked what was going on and Gwilym explained he wanted to give the audience a song they could perform and be part of it and you all began to sing and clap your hands.

"Cut!" The director shouted.

And everything was done. There were no scenes left, nothing else. After that, Rami suggested to go and have coffee. All of you were sat on the floor and drinking your coffee.

"I can't believe it's our last day." You said.

"I still remember the very first time you were on set." Gwilym said. "And the odd American accent." he moved his gaze from you to Joe and laughed.

"Oh no, please, I'm still ashamed of that." You begged him not no bring that back.

Memories from set were mentioned as you took a sip of coffee. You had a big smile on your face as you remembered probably one of the best days of your life and the best memory on set.

"Who's coming over?" You asked Rami, who was taking his crown off and put in on your head, you laughed.

"I don't know, darling. Maybe some fans." He shrugged. He got used to talking like Freddie.

After Freddie's party scene in Garden Lodge, the director suggedted to take a break and said that they had some guests on set that day.

"I thought we were going to film the I want to break free music video now." Gwilym said thoughtful with his hand on his chin.

"Hey mates, look who are here today!" Ben said as he, Joe and Lucy stood next to you, Rami and Gwilym and pointed at the door.

You couldn't believe your eyes when you saw them.

Brian May and Roger Taylor were a few feet away from you. Brian and Roger, from Queen, your favorite band, your idols.

"Hey folks, How are you doing today?" Asked Brian with a charming smile. 

Everybody greeted them but you. You were in shock, your face was as white as a sheet and your jaw was slacked. Lucy seemed to notice you and held your hand. 

Joe put his hand in your back and rubbed it softly. “Let’s go outside and catch some fresh air.” 

“Hey, who’s this pretty lady?” Roger asked. He took off his black glasses. 

“(Y/n) are you okay?” Lucy asked worried and the four men next to you turned to look. 

Oh God, you were absolutely nervous. Never in your craziest dreams you thought about having this opportunity. You knew that Brian and Roger sometimes visited the set but you didn’t think they would do it a day you were there. 

“I-I-I’m (Y/n)...” you extended your shaky hand. “Oh sorry for this, but I’m a big fan of Queen and...Oh God I can’t believe it!” Roger laughed and took your hand and shook it. You thought you were going to faint. You could feel your knees weaken. 

“No! I’m okay” You were shaking.

“Wow, it’s nice to meet you. I’ve seen some pictures of you here on set with these amazing people, you’re doing amazing.” He said and Brian nodded. 

“We’re finally meeting!” Brian said and you smiled with watery eyes. 

Joe wondered what made you deal with so much pain, you'd never said anything about that. He felt his heart broke at the mere thought of you being in pain.

Brian and Roger were absolutely grateful for your words. 

“I feel like I’m dreaming.” You laughed nervously. “You guys don’t have an idea of how much I appreciate you, your music helped me to heal so much pain and I will be forever grateful for that. I wanna show you something.” You said as you uncover your left wrist from your sleeve. You had a beautiful butterfly tattooed and under it, a lyric from one of your favorite songs by Queen, Spread your wings. “I’ve had this for over 12 years now and one of my biggest wishes was to show it to both of you someday and to thank you for everything."

“I’m glad our music help you in any possible way.” Brian said “And your tattoo is amazing. John would be very pleased If he saw it” You smiled. 

“I love it.” Roger said. “Hey Bri, why don’t we take a photo with her for Instagram?” 

“That would be nice.” 

Oh my God. 

"Let me be your photographer." Rami asked Brian for his phone and took some photos of your tattoo and others of you with them. A few minutes after that, your phone buzzed. Queen has tagged you on a post. 

@OfficialQueenMusic: “So glad to meet a fan today that will be part of our upcoming movie. Thank you for sharing your story with us @(y/n)(y/s/n) #BohemianRhapsody” 

That was, by far, the best day of your entire life. 

“Hey, come back to Earth, where are you?” Ben asked moving a hand in your face. You shook your head. 

“I was thinking about the first time I met Brian and Roger.” You blushed and he laughed.

“Oh, the day you almost pass out” Ben joked and you slapped him on his arm. “Hey, Am I telling a lie?” 

“Of course I almost pass out, my eyes were lucky to see Brian and Roger in person.” You and Ben giggled. 

“I’m going to miss you, do you know that?” Ben asked. 

“So do I!” You hugged him. Smiling. "You know I'm going to visit you."

Those weeks on set made you realize how lucky you were to find such incredible people. After years and years of being alone in your misery. After the countless nights you cried yourself to sleep and feeling like a piece of shit for being so alone in this world, everything was making sense now. 

You never told them about what you had been through. Being a teenager wasn’t easy. You wanted people to destroy the concept that your teenage years are supposed to be fun and those are the best years of your life because when you hit your late 20s, responsibilities are hard to manage and everything seems to be falling apart. Why couldn’t you be happy now?

Now, that you were 30, that everything was left behind. You wished you could say that you were a happy teenager and you didn’t have to fake a smile and pretend everything was okay. There were days you barely could get out of your house and see other people, or even worse, some days you couldn’t get out of bed and shower because there wasn’t any motivation at all. And no one understood. No one knew how hard it was being you, having such an stressful life that you worried about every little thing and it seemed you would never be at peace. You never felt safe. How hard it was to interact with others without thinking that they just did it to be nice to you or that they were desperately waiting for you to shut your fucking mouth. Isolation didn’t feel right. Loneliness didn’t feel right. Nothing felt right at all. You couldn’t keep pretending to be happy, you needed a reason to keep holding on, something that made you believe that your life was going to change, you wanted to be back on your feet and to know that all of that pain was gone.

Maybe it wasn’t so hard to be you, and eventually, you would find out where you belonged. You felt it was taking forever and you couldn’t wait for things to get better. You knew that someday things would be better and that your day would come. Sometimes you wished someone would save you, but you knew that you had to save yourself. If only you could find what you've been looking for. "How could this happen to me? "was the only thing that was always on your mind. You were sick of this life, you wanted to scream. You felt out of place, you were sick of feeling so left out.

And at that moment, you knew that your 18-year-old-self would be proud of you. Proud of the woman you had become and that now, all of your worries were left behind. You didn’t have to worry about that again, but it was still hard to open your heart and tell people about it. You weren’t embarrassed, it was part of you, part of your story but you didn’t want people to pity you. 

You didn’t realize you were almost crying until Joe spoke. 

“What’s going on?” He hugged you. Your vision was blurry, it was difficult for you to see clearly. You wiped your tears with your thumb and you chuckled. 

“I’m very emotional today. I’m grateful for everything that this movie brought me, especially the five of you.” 

There was a broad smile on Joe’s face. “Well, I’m glad you say that because you won’t get rid of me so easily, huh?” He joked. Joe always knew how to make you smile. But he was right, you lived like 30 minutes away from him, you would see each other everyday. “I have a list of places we’re visiting after coming back to New York.” 

“That’s why I love you.” You hugged him again. He smiled.

Joe felt something on his chest. He wished that I love you meant something else than being loved as a friend, but at the same time, he didn’t want to feel like this, he didn’t want to be in love again. Since his last girlfriend cheated on him with his friend, he couldn’t feel anything for someone. All of his dates failed and he decided to take some time for himself.

But there was something Joe couldn’t deny, when you were near, everything seemed so easy, he could look into your eyes and forget the world. 

“I love you even more.” 

[xlady-saya]

I want this touch to be familiar [fic]

Relationships: andrew/neil, side aaron/katelyn

Summary: Deep down, Andrew knew he would always reach this crossroads, a time where the thought became too strong to ignore.

Going all the way with Neil. It's not something he can continue to avoid thinking about. When Andrew looks back to the days where he held Neil's hands down, when he never got off with him in the same room, he's forced to acknowledge how much he's allowed.

Not allowed. Welcomed. Wanted.

But that’s not all there is to it, and the desire to make a decision finally makes itself known.

Tags: first time fic, p*rn with feelings, relationship study, fluff and communication, multichapter 

Read on ao3! 

They're having a movie night when the idea sinks its hooks into Andrew's brain. He’s not blaming the Foxes, but their bad choices in films is the catalyst to a milestone Andrew didn’t think he’d have to deal with so soon.

In a swift motion, he brings the hand that's not on Neil's thigh to itch at the back of his own skull, unsettled. He almost thinks he should ban himself from these get togethers, if only to avoid these ideas from taking root. Though, if he's being more honest with himself for once, he'll admit it's not the first time it crossed his mind.

It's possible that's the problem entirely.

No, this idea is more comparable to a mosquito, swarming around in his head and beating against the grooves at random points in the day. It's so powerful, so persistent, it's like this one mosquito is a whole swarm, poking around the ridges in an indecisive process to figure out where it finally wants to dig in.

The movie night is just the point in which it finally latches on and doesn't let go.

It's a predictable action film; Andrew doesn't understand why every director in Hollywood keeps trying to recreate James Bond, but he stopped caring about the movie two minutes in. Neil is boneless and relaxed from the shower they shared after practice, fingers drumming beats against Andrew's wrists while his brow furrows at the film. It has enough explosions and suspense to keep Neil somewhat entertained, though Andrew suspects the focus is mostly due to Neil trying to pick apart the inaccuracies of it all.

Most of the time, Neil ends up staring at Andrew for a majority of the film. Andrew finds it easier to not mind in the darkness, where he can feel the brightness in Neil's eyes instead of actually seeing it.

Essentially, this is the only reason he comes to movie nights.

He's almost at the point where he's ready to ignore the thing completely, along with the Foxes’ scathing commentary, but then the scene comes on.

It's not hard to see coming, but as crude and rough as the Foxes are, their movies don't often include sex scenes. Andrew isn't usually bothered by this type of thing, but it does nothing for him. He's neither repulsed or intrigued; the man isn't his type (or Neil, his brain says, unhelpfully), and the scene isn't aggressive enough to feel like assault.

No anger or heat surges under his skin as the slow orchestra plays, the woman's dress falling to the floor in what he's sure is supposed to be a good shot but has been so overdone it's pointless. Suddenly there's skin, and chests, and the actress' loud gasps turn into louder moans.

It's obnoxious, how fake it sounds, the camera angle cutting to show just enough in between movements.

"Ughhh," Nicky groans, and Allison turns to give him a look. Nicky sags in his chair even further just to spite her, almost falling out of it. "Why do they always do this? I don't need to see two straight white people suck face and bone in every movie! What is this doing for the plot?"

Aaron's head perks up, and he pauses his mid mouthful of those stupid chips Katelyn got him. "What's wrong with straight white people?"

"Everything."

Matt raises his third beer of the night. "Cheers bro, I'll drink to that."

Aaron looks to the wall, as if it will offer him anything better than his current company.

Andrew's eyes fly back to the television, right at the moment the hero slots himself between the actress' legs.

The swarm in his head digs in.

Andrew's hands tighten in the couch cushion, but he keeps the hand on Neil's thigh steady so he won't notice. Neil can be so perceptive when he wants to be, when it comes to Andrew specifically. It's infuriating, sometimes. Andrew never asked to be known so well, yet here they are.

Neil cracks a smile at Nicky and Aaron's fighting, more fond of it now than anything, and Andrew tracks the curve of it with his eyes. On screen, the spy starts thrusting.

"It's romantic!" Allison counters Nicky's claims, and he chucks a pillow at her with a surprising amount of force. Some of the feathers float out.

"They met not even a day ago!"

Aaron's chips are forgotten, which is about as serious as his brother gets nowadays. "I think you've hooked up with dudes you've met within an hour, you asshole."

"This ain't about me."

It's at this point Neil decides to speak, his brow arching in a way Andrew is pretty sure he didn't do prior to starting their this. Andrew's eyes fly up to catch it, and he realizes he'd been admiring the slope of Neil's neck, the discoloration where his hair meets his nape. "Honestly Nicky, what right do you have to talk about plot? Didn't you make us watch that terrible beach movie last week just because you liked the actor?"

Off to the side, where they're trying to become siamese twins, Dan and Matt chime in with some 'ooo's and air horn noises. They’re loud enough to startle Kevin from whatever he’s texting Thea about, and Allison’s cackle follows. Renee’s smile has a slight sharpness to it, the evillest she can look nowadays.

Andrew can't be bothered by the antics; his focus keeps returning to the movie, and the fact is nearly enough to startle him. But he stays still, calm, and doesn't give anything away. It's the best defense he has for the war about to rage inside him. His mind, two seconds from overdrive.

"Et tu Neil?" Nicky sniffs, and then the actress has some kind of orgasm, since she makes a noise akin to a dying bird.

And, because when is it ever about the love interest, the man keeps going, chasing his own release. Andrew's throat feels scratchy.

Andrew spares a look at Neil's face, and finds the striker's attention divided between the screen and Nicky's ramblings. Andrew doesn't care about whatever Neil says in return, he's too set on the slide of Neil's tongue over his bottom lip, the heat of his skin under his palm. Andrew moves his hand more towards Neil's inner thigh, and his breath hitches when Neil's legs widen on instinct for him.

The idiot isn't even aware of it.

Andrew would only need to slide his hand deeper to graze the place where he and Neil could be connected, as close as they can get. He'd be able to work Neil open, savor the twitch of Neil's hips.

Neil is mouthy enough in bed with how they do things now. Would he be louder? Uncontained?

Andrew allows himself to watch the rest of the scene play out on screen, the two rehearsed 'rough' thrusts, the groan of pleasure. But this time, it's hard to be disinterested. It's hard to not let his mind, so gifted with spinning fantasies on account of his cursed memory, put him in the spy's place.

What would Neil feel like, he wonders. Tight and warm probably, strong legs locking around Andrew's hips until his ankles are crossed and knocking against his lower back. Neil can get so greedy sometimes, even with his obnoxiously high consideration for Andrew's boundaries. When he's allowed to take, he's desperate about it.

Would Neil let him go that far? No, would he want to?

Does he want--

Andrew stops the train of thought there, but doesn't cut the journey short. He has no choice but to be stuck here now, and thus, Andrew can no longer swat the idea away like the pest it is.

Going all the way with Neil. It's not something he could avoid thinking about after a certain point. When Andrew looks back to the days where he held Neil's hands down, when he never got off with him in the same room, he's forced to acknowledge how much he's allowed.

Not allowed. Welcomed. Wanted.

Bile rises in his throat on instinct, and he squashes it down. Sex with Neil is not something he needs to feel terrible about, and he doesn't. It feels the opposite of terrible, and Andrew hasn't worked through all those troublesome thoughts yet. He can't pin a label to it.

He remembers when jerking off in the shower, mouth pressed to Neil's, had felt like a huge thing to give. Now it wouldn't be enough.

Neil touches him now, Andrew asks him to touch. He's used to Neil's weight on top of him and his hands sliding suggestively over his abs, his biceps. His hands are used to resting comfortably over the curve of Neil's ass, grinding against him.

And it hasn’t stopped there. He's had Neil's mouth on him, his blue eyes on every part of him as the striker sucked him off after a particularly good game.

Andrew had shut down the goal, and the look in Neil's eyes had made him feel far too much. Overwhelming, dizzying.

So they'd taken the next step, not without hiccups, not without caution, but they'd done it.

And that's the thing with Neil; once they cross a certain line, it's a snowball effect. They're incapable of going back.

Neil blew him then for the first time and suddenly Andrew couldn't get the image out of his head, Neil's lips around his cock, trying to adjust to get the best reactions out of Andrew, to make it feel good.

Neil, so stupidly determined about everything he does.

And Andrew, the fool he is, got used to it. He never expected it, because routine was not a yes, and some days he preferred to not be touched at all.

But now, when Neil sinks to his knees or asks to jerk Andrew off, the initial anxiety Andrew might've felt months prior isn't there. It's been burned away into something more concerning, addictive.

Because Neil will stop if he needs him to.

So, Andrew let go, and the floodgates opened.

Shared handjobs turned into frequent blowjobs, which turned into heavy petting without clothes. Andrew feels stripped down, raw, with how much trust he's given this single person.

Every now and again, he searches deep in his soul for some ounce of disgust, regret for any of it, and it makes him angry to find none.

The only thing that does make him angry is how good it feels, a natural reaction Andrew can’t just drop cold turkey. Yet, his body doesn't just enjoy the progressions he and Neil have made together, so does his mind.

Again, he derails the train there, not willing to admit it, and returns to the thought of plowing Neil into their mattress.

It was only a matter of time before he ended up at this crossroads, only so far he and Neil could go before reaching the logical 'next step.'

But, it doesn't have to be a step at all if Neil decides against it. If Neil doesn't want to, they won't. The itch in Andrew's brain is mostly due to the fact they haven't discussed it. He has no idea how Neil feels, if he even thinks about it in the way Andrew does.

There hasn't been time, but Andrew knows if he's reached this point he has to bring it up.

He's not afraid to; he and Neil aren't like that. It's about framing it in a way Neil's exy-only brain won't read into it wrong.

He needs Neil to be able to say no if that's what he needs, he doesn't want to imply he wants this from Neil, that there's a pressure to take it there. Because as stubborn and rebellious as Neil can be, unwilling to be pushed around, Andrew is a weakness.

So, Andrew won't accept anything from him other than the absolute truth. 'Always' doesn't exist with things like this.

The movie turns back into a mindless explosion show while the fantasy in Andrew's brain is paused, mostly because indulging in it feels wrong at this point. If it's something that'll never happen, there's no point letting it play.

What he already does with Neil is enough, more than enough. Andrew never thought he'd ever be like this with anyone, and he's still not used to it. His pleasure during sex came from control in the past, on being able to dictate how it all went, to touch without being touched and have the person like it.

Neil turns everything upside down; where control once stood undefeated, something else sits, unmovable. White-hot, blinding desire.

A danger, unacceptable.

Andrew's eyes rest back on Neil and the heat coiling in his abdomen subsides, softened by the unruliness of Neil's bangs and the glow against his cheek. That's another problem too, about Neil. Desire isn't alone.

But, Andrew sets that issue aside for now.

Feeling Andrew's pensiveness, Neil turns his head, blinking so slow Andrew can see the flutter of his lashes. He nearly pushes his face away.

He's not sure what Neil sees in his analysis; Andrew knows he can't read minds, but it's unsettling and calming all at once to watch him trace the wrinkles in Andrew's face. He asks himself if maybe Neil can feel the itch too.

Neil hooks his fingers over Andrew's lightly, and Andrew realizes all too late how tight his grip on Neil's thigh had gotten.

"Okay?" Neil asks, and fuck him for doing so, for catching Andrew slip. He curses himself for slipping at all, or maybe the better term is falling.

Andrew taps Neil's hand once, twice, three times, and squashes the urge to kiss him.

"Yes," he says, and it's not a lie.

It's not a lie, and he doesn't have the energy to think about why that is. He just knows that soon, it will become a bigger problem. He puts it to rest.

Instead, he watches Neil nod and smile, and when Andrew finally turns back to the television, his brain gets to work on the words he needs to say, and knowing how they’ll probably come up short.

--

Andrew's mind is a vault mechanism. When one part of the lock is cracked, there's usually another waiting behind it.

He hasn't realized it yet though, couldn't possibly, with Neil rutting in his lap.

Andrew grunts as his nails dig into Neil's hips, where the brunet's sweatpants are dipping dangerously lower by the minute, a consequence of the force of their dry humping.

He's not quite sure how they got this carried away in the span of ten minutes, but all Andrew knew then was this wasn't a bad day, this was a day where Neil could pin Andrew to the couch without consequence.

So he let him.

Neil is shirtless, scars on display along with hard nipples and a twitching abdomen, the heat building and building.

Because of Andrew.

The position should feel stupid, immature, maybe even high school, but Andrew's brain is swimming with a pleasure comparable to nicotine.

It's nothing he thought he'd feel before, because the weight of someone on him never used to lead to good things.

"Fuck," Neil breathes, hips stuttering against Andrew's and wiping the dangerous path away before Andrew can even take a step towards it. Neil gives a rough jerk, barely able to fight Andrew's grip, but he prefers when Neil works for it. He doesn't let up, because he knows the striker is nothing but determined.

Neil whines, surging forward to pant into Andrew's mouth. He growls; part of him was enjoying the show and doesn't appreciate the interruption. The other part of him can't get enough of Neil's mouth, the wicked tongue pulling his out and sucking on it like it's another part of Andrew's body.

Neil is always so scatterbrained; he'd do it all if he could.

Andrew's breathing comes out heavy, wet, and they've fallen out of position quite a few times as a result of their desperation. Neil's clothed cock is barely grazing Andrew's now, but he doesn't have the will to stop Neil from moving so fast, so needy. There's a small wet spot forming against Andrew's pant leg, and he watches Neil fight to keep his head from lolling back from the dizziness of it.

It makes something smug burn through Andrew's chest, seeing Neil sigh and whisper incoherent nothings which don't amount to much more than 'yes' and 'more, Andrew, more.'

Andrew leans back into the couch cushions and bucks up, earning him a sound so Neil he can't take it. It's a cross between a gasp and a groan, devolving into another string of curses. At this point, Neil's pants are low enough to reveal the coarse hair of his groin, the criss crossing scars almost as tantalizing as the hardness pressing against Andrew's leg.

Andrew suddenly doesn't have enough hands. He's torn between pressing his palm over the scars, keeping Neil under his grip, or digging into Neil's hair to expose the column of his throat.

This is why this kind of thing can still get a bit overwhelming, but not in a discomforting way like it used to.

It's still fairly new, the dry humping. At first, it had started as slow and experimental grinding in the morning, Neil pressed up against Andrew's front while he rocked forward. The first time, Andrew had to stop, too taken by the newness of it, the unfamiliarity.

He hadn't had time to really pick it apart and think about why he was doing it or if it made him anything like them. If pressing Neil down and chasing his own relief didn't reveal something uglier about him.

By that point, he'd had Neil's hands on him on a regular basis, jerking him off and pulling him into his throat. Those things were becoming less daunting.

He's used to letting Neil get him off now, to getting off in front of him with his own hand. It's just...this is so much more shared, intense. Andrew isn't quite used to it, but the movie night sits heavy in the back of his head still, and he thinks it might make a little more sense now.

The process to get here had been the same, a slow evolution; they'd use grinding as a means to get worked up, to cause friction before moving onto blow jobs or heavy makeouts. It turned into a thing when Andrew didn't have the patience to separate from Neil for even a moment. Humiliating, but in the heat of the moment he hadn't thought twice. He remembered asking for his yes between biting kisses before humping Neil into their bed, and when he came, the rush had been blinding. The heat running through his veins carried all through his spine and down to his toes, intensified even more by Neil's body jerking against his.

Close, intimate.

And so very, very close to the real thing.

Before that thought threatens to ruin everything, Andrew bucks up again and Neil's moan blocks the path again.

Andrew is so hard it's painful.

Before Neil can press down in kind, Andrew tightens his hold until Neil can do little more than squirm, leaving them stuck like that, with Neil's hands making a mess of Andrew's hair and unable to give them the sweet friction. Andrew rubs circles into Neil's hip bones until he hears the sigh he's looking for.

Watching Neil blink, eyes blown wide in a desire fueled haze, makes Andrew lick his lips in anticipation.

Neil blinks down at Andrew, not really seeing, breath stuttering as he fights the grip. "H-hey--"

"Hey," Andrew replies, feigning innocence. It's not effective, when one of his hands snakes around to Neil's back, looking for any trace of discomfort or even a silent 'no.' When he finds nothing but want, he presses his fingers down onto Neil's lower back to force him forward. Neil's back arches like a cat, like Andrew pulls all the strings. "Move up."

Neil exhales shakily as he shifts, legs spreading and putting him back to where they initially started. Andrew takes the time to rid himself of his jacket, way too warm, and unzips his jeans to help the tightness.

Neil's gaze flies to the prominent bulge under Andrew's boxers instantly.

"Right there," Andrew says with his hands back on Neil's ass, squeezing the muscled flesh greedily and trying hard to avoid the thought of spreading him open like this. He aligns Neil so their cocks are settled against each other again. It's a struggle for them to stay still; Neil leans forward so Andrew's neck muffles most of his groan, and sucks on his pale skin. Andrew's voice is nothing short of strained when it comes out. "That's it."

Neil smiles when he pulls back, and Andrew has to look away. Idiot, always so pleased with proof of Andrew's unraveling. "Can I--"

"Yes," Andrew growls, and he meets Neil halfway. One hand flies to the back of Neil's neck, digging into the hair at his nape to pull him close again. His skin is scorching to the touch.

Neil doesn't hesitate. His hips move fast as his hands dig into Andrew's biceps, intent on chasing the orgasm for both of them. Small, jagged whimpers leave his mouth with every thrust, his cock brushing right against Andrew's. Neil is practically bouncing, and it doesn't take long for Andrew to realize he's moving too, just as fast, just as rough. The head of his cock pokes out of the slit in his underwear, smearing precum on Neil's pants.

"Oh fuck, fuck," Neil moans at the same time Andrew starts grunting with each jerk of his body, unconcerned with the volume. If anyone knows what's good for them, they won't be back early. Andrew's vision starts to blur, his movements less coordinated, breathing loud. He's close, so close and the heat pooling in his abdomen makes his head swim.

It should unnerve him, this lack of control, this animalistic urge to keep going, take and take. But Neil looks the farthest from afraid above him; he's matching Andrew in his entirety, grunting loudly and rotating his hips in just the right way for them to feel every inch of each other. His hands are dutifully clutching Andrew's shoulders, unwilling to move. Because Neil knows, he knows this is Andrew's most vulnerable moment, seconds from orgasm. No matter how close to the edge they are, Neil won't risk Andrew's discomfort, he won't let Andrew's pleasure be overridden by shock or the disregard for his boundaries.

Andrew hates him, he hates how Neil is the only one who will ever make him feel this way, because now no one else is good enough.

In more ways than sex.

Andrew snarls from the anger of it all, from how inaccurate it feels to call it that. He brings a hand up to wipe the sweat off Neil's brow, pushing aside his bangs so he can see those eyes for all they are, the ring of blue a bottomless pool Andrew no longer tries to escape.

Neil's mouth falls open from whatever look is on Andrew's face, and he's no longer able to keep his eyes open, throwing his head back as his orgasm rips through him. He trembles in Andrew's arms, and Andrew feels the warmth of Neil's cum against his cock, even through his sweats.

Andrew's arms lock around Neil's waist as he thrusts up harshly, and in the last split second before he comes, he imagines they're not just dry humping like dogs in heat. He allows himself to imagine he's inside Neil, that they're as close as they can possibly be, and it makes Neil feel good instead of pained.

Andrew comes, but it's with an unexpected dose of shame. Despite that, he comes hard. It's full body, enough to make his shoulders shake, his breath hitch. It's that same tingling sensation running over him, stronger at the points where he and Neil touch.

It doesn't make sense to him.

He hadn't meant to let his brain go there, to let the fantasy rear its ugly head again, but it had felt so...

He didn't have the right to think about it without Neil's yes, not in this case. Because it means some fucked up part of him craves it, needs to take it.

He won't, he won't do that. He knows he won't, but then why does it make his stomach swirl?

Andrew sighs before going rigid, and Neil must take it as his cue to separate. That's one thing which hasn't really changed, Andrew's need for space. It's gotten better, he can normally stay pressed against Neil for ten or so minutes, and it's weirdly comfortable. However, eventually his brain will begin to overthink or itch with a need for room, and he'll have to push away.

This immediate stiffness is unusual though, and Neil catches it so fast Andrew should feel vulnerable about it.

Neil goes still as soon as he senses something is off, and removes his weight from Andrew in a blink. He's never seen Neil move so fast away from him, not out of fear, but concern.

Neil is mistaken here though; he's not the one who's done something wrong.

Neil puts as much distance between them on the couch as he can, bringing his knees to his chest and only grimacing at the wet squelch of his pants.

His chest is still heaving, and part of Andrew finds excitement in that. He made Neil feel good, it's proven by his mussed up hair and swollen lips, the high blush. Neil waits, eyes scanning the lines of tension in Andrew's body, the soft parts of his face.

Andrew watches him for a long time as he thinks, trying to find evidence he's right, that he took it too far. Neil can't read his thoughts, but for a moment Andrew worries he can.

Did he feel it, Andrew's body claiming him, using him in a way Neil maybe has never thought of?

Andrew glares, but he knows Neil will be able to tell it's not at him.

Andrew is usually able to begin the long dissection of these issues in his own head, revealing the threads he can offer to Bee to pull at and untangle into something more manageable. But right now, he's at a loss.

They sit like that so long their breathing evens out, and only at that point does Neil reach out. He extends his hand forward, not commanding, but offering. Yes or no. "Andrew?"

Shit.

He hasn't moved in minutes. Time is never something he managed well in his head, always pulling him back to the past in a blink while the future pulled apart like dust, disintegrating before taking a full shape. He inhales shakily; Andrew hates to show so much, but this is Neil. They're alone. He scrubs a hand over his face in frustration, trying to bring it back to its blank state before he reaches out to pull Neil closer.

They're still not touching anywhere else, Andrew can't handle that yet, but it's enough of an acquiescence for Neil to understand the problem isn't him.

He moves to the cushion next to Andrew, his bare feet settling against the carpet as he waits for Andrew to say something.

And well, this is where he brings it up. There's no point in waiting, beating around the bush is useless and pointless and not something they're capable of doing.

Andrew's words come out blunt as ever as he stares into nothingness. "Before I came I thought about fucking you."

The harshness of the words, and how removed they are from any emotion should probably make any normal person flinch. Neil isn't just anyone.

Neil, for all his usual drama, doesn't react to that, and Andrew feels the ghost of relief. Once, Neil told Andrew his lack of reaction to otherwise terrible events made Neil feel better about them. Andrew hadn't really understood, but now he just might be seeing the logic.

Neil's gaze on him during their vulnerable moments typically makes Andrew want to jump out of his skin, far too exposed, but with this it's less difficult to plow forward. Neil stares at Andrew, as blank as he can manage, while still letting the curiosity furrow his brow.

Andrew wants to wipe off the sweat there.

He cracks his knuckles, mulling over the words and trying to find a way to say them where he won't have to admit too much. Unfortunately, it's impossible.

He scowls at the coffee table as he speaks, like the words are vile. "I've been thinking about it a lot lately. I haven't been able to stop."

Why can't he stop?

Because part of him can't help himself, is that it? He can't control himself, even after years and years of limiting every possible stimuli so he could.

If he sounds angry it's because he is; how dare Neil push him this far, so unintentionally. Yet even then, Andrew knows the blame is all on him. The irritated tremble in his voice should not fucking be there, just like the thoughts shouldn't be. He shouldn't have given ground enough to make such a confession, to make Neil think he's torn up and ugly.

Andrew should be a blank slate, but Neil is chips in the stone, splashes of paint which Andrew cannot scrub off.

He told Neil what he's always told Neil: the honest version of how he feels, even if he wishes he felt nothing.

Long before the movie night, long before he cares to remember, and he    remembers everything, he's thought of slotting their bodies together, of pulling Neil impossibly close so they're intertwined in every way.

At Andrew's aggravated scowl, Neil finally chooses to speak. The confusion is more obvious on his features now, the ring of blue reappearing and threatening to wash Andrew in waves.

"You don't have to stop," Neil says, like it's the simplest damn thing in the world.

What the hell does he know? He's not in Andrew's head, he's not--

"Neil--" Andrew almost growls, a warning Neil should be all too familiar with. Stop while you're ahead.

Neil is a very bad listener, with a short fuse to match.

"I think about it," the striker bites out quickly, almost challenging. Those blue eyes widen with the admission, rocking on the balls of his feet. Andrew's entire body freezes up, hell the world might have stopped for all he cares. Even Neil bites down on his bottom lip, as if to cut the words off, before realizing how stupid that would be. He knows how Andrew feels about regret, and he's not lying in this moment. Andrew would be able to tell. A few seconds of quiet pass, they hear some muffled music through the windows. Neil's voice is a silky whisper to his ears, despite how cracked it sounds. "I think about it too. So...there, stop putting this just on you. I think about it a lot so, you don't have to do...that."

It's so stupid, how Neil can remain so interesting even when Andrew's feeling this on edge. It's a welcome distraction for a second, before the words really sink in.

Neil thinks about it.

Viciously, Andrew steps on the small slug which resembles hope as it crawls through his brain. He ignores the mess in his pants as he turns to face Neil, sitting cross-legged on the couch.

Andrew raises a brow, daring Neil to elaborate on the that he's referring to.

"Hide it so I don't have to know," Neil supplies, waving his hand in the air. "Shoulder it all yourself like you always do. This way I've made it both of our problem."

Neil winces, no doubt scolding himself for the poor choice of words.

Andrew's face is back to a blank slate. "A problem, is it?"

That's certainly how he saw it, but having Neil echo the sentiment makes him feel more, which would be terrible enough, but the feeling isn't even good.

Neil's gaze is a freshly sharpened blade. "No. Not to me," Neil says, firm. "You know we don't have to, but--"

"But you think about it," Andrew echoes, unable to help it. The coils he tries to wrap around the realization are slippery and can't get a grip, so he repeats it. Neil thinks about it, the desire is shared.

What is he supposed to do with that information now? One step forward, two steps...somewhere.

Neil swallows, and the redness on his cheeks is oh so appealing to even Andrew's hazy mind.

Neil thinks about it.

But that doesn't mean they can just...do it. Andrew doesn't know if he can; the disconnect between what his body wants and what his brain can manage is a minefield and he's never wanted to scratch at gray matter so badly.

Briefly, he understands why Aaron values normalcy so much. Normalcy would allow Andrew to just be the horny college student he could've been, instead of having to deal with all these speed bumps and cones in the road to get to the ultimate goal. And even if he were to get there, there's a big chance he'd decide it's better to turn back around to prevent a crash.

But he is not Aaron, and he does not value normalcy.

He values--

"I do," Neil states, so understanding, and maybe a little flustered. Flustered, not scared, not unsure. "I like doing that stuff with you Andrew, but how it is now is good, more than good. Hell, that was so...wow. You know I've never felt this towards someone."

Neil's smile is so far away from what Andrew can handle he has to ruin it.

"Horny?" He says, and hates how even when he's deflecting the thought sends a shiver through him. The thought of Neil only wanting him, only giving himself to him. Andrew squashes the possessiveness, uncomfortable.

Neil gives him a look for that, but isn't deterred. "Technically yes, but you know what I mean."

Unfortunately he does, but that's even more uncomfortable to think about than the physical desire. Neil has never been shy about his feelings for Andrew, not since Andrew actually acknowledged their this and showed how he was going to make zero moves to push Neil away. Even if Neil did hold back his bluntness, he gives Andrew those fucking looks like he's the most amazing thing he's ever laid eyes on, not some delinquent with a crooked nose and a hostile disposition.

And still that can't be it. Neil's desire, like his feelings, are so intense they can't possibly be fake. The eagerness, the desperation with which he receives Andrew's advances...it's not the issue. Neil is trying to tell Andrew he doesn't need to feel pressured, like Andrew doesn't already know that.

He thinks he's getting closer to what his real problem is with it, but it's just out of reach. It's a shared desire, he checks that off. Neil thinks about it, another check. And Andrew...

No matter how he tries to kick it aside he wants it. His body craves it and his mind can't let it go. He wants and it's so nauseating in how it's not, instead it's light and tender and all things he is not supposed to be.

So, where is the issue? It's him, it's--

"Stop avoiding the truth," Neil says, and when Andrew looks back at him those pale blue eyes are intense, almost deadly. They pry Andrew apart, flaying the flesh from bones and seeing the rawness inside, like Neil has managed to pin down the anxious animal inside him with talons sharp as knives.

The words 'shut up' die on his tongue; what truth? What can Neil see that he can't?

Andrew doesn't have fears. He briefly entertains the idea that what bothers him is the fact Neil thinks about it and that means one day he'll really want it and won't be able to hold the urge back. If Andrew can't give it to him, if he decides he can't go through with this, Neil will be like everyone else, just someone who wants more than Andrew can offer. Then he'll leave.

But Andrew doesn't fear. And it would be stupid to fear; anyone who would leave for something like that simply isn't worth the time of day. Yet...yet...

Andrew thinks of life without Neil, and he remembers emptiness crashing down, an empty stadium, and true darkness.

Frustrated beyond all reason, Andrew retreats into the bedroom to change into clean underwear and sweats. There are no footsteps behind him, no annoyed sighs or disappointment in his wake. He hates how Neil knows how long he needs before following, how trusting he is, because he changes right in front of Andrew a few moments later, needing no boundary.

"There's no 'truth' in this to avoid," Andrew answers, delayed, as he tracks the curves of Neil's body, the scars making him feel safe and angry all at once. Angry at those who would hurt his person, safe knowing Neil doesn't shy away from the ugliness.

Neil shrugs as he sits on the bed, beckoning Andrew over. He follows, of course he does, it's automatic.

What he says isn't a lie; he hasn't figured out the truth of this. Neil grins at him, infuriating. "No, I just think you're avoiding thinking about it. Don't get me wrong, I have no idea what you're actually thinking about, I'm not a mind reader. But if something else weren't bothering you I don't think you'd be this antsy."

"I'm not antsy."

"I told you, I'm the better liar so you should stop trying," Neil says with a smile, kicking his legs out in front of him. There's bruises on his knees from their last game. Andrew reaches out to press his palm against them, frowning at the yellowish color; there was no helping the fall, but Andrew had still checked him out afterwards. Neil sighs into the touch, leans into it, and it hits Andrew that this level of vulnerability he's been given is not something he's ever asked for, but he couldn't let go of if he wanted to.

Can’t let himself betray.

"I haven't made up my mind," Andrew says, not like he has to. Neil is normally good at knowing when Andrew isn't ready to give his final answer, but something about this feels different. It makes Andrew say as much as he can. "I don't know yet if I can do it."

What he thought would be devastating to admit aloud feels more like one weight has been shed. Neil doesn't even react, apart from prying Andrew's hand off his knee to trace the veins on his wrist.

"That's okay," Neil whispers, and there's enough encouragement in the tone to make Andrew growl.

"Shut up."

Neil freezes, his fingers hovering over Andrew's knuckles, and has the audacity to squint at Andrew. The man always did have a death wish. "It is."

Andrew turns away, in what to others would read as a clear dismissal, the cold shoulder. Neil has never cared to accept those things.

"Andrew," Neil says, and it's with conviction this time. No gentleness. "I'm not going to...leave if we never do it, I don't care about that, I just care about you. But if it is something you want, it's a yes--"

Fury spikes.

Andrew bites back the auto-response of 'I don't care if you leave' because it's a deflection he won't bring into this. He doesn't have time to keep that wall of his intact during a conversation like this. Neil will fight it and see through it and it'll waste their time.

But honestly, screw Neil for seeing through Andrew so easily. For pulling out fears that shouldn't be there and aren't, they aren't.

When Andrew turns his scowl on Neil, the striker doesn't so much as flinch. Andrew is here, giving away too much, showing too much, and Neil takes all of it.

"That doesn't have to be your final answer," Andrew stresses, voice tight, and this time Neil does have the decency to look surprised. Those pretty eyes soften with it, and Andrew sees the exact moment he puts something together which Andrew hasn't yet touched. "We don't have to. That goes both ways, I won't take that from you unless you're 100% sure so you better be and fuck you if you don't tell me the truth when the time comes. And it's not going to be you letting me, or doing it for my sake, or some other half-assed reason. If you don't want to, we won't. "

If I can't, I won't.

And the only reason he wouldn't be able to is if...

Andrew feels a stone settle in his stomach, and almost grins from how amazingly stupid this all is. Bee would be so proud, him getting to this point, on the cusp of figuring out what the hell is going on in his head.

All of a sudden Andrew is tired, too much energy pulled out of him, a war of emotions, all for him to come to the obvious conclusion.

It always comes back to Neil.

And Neil seems to have figured it out too; he stares at Andrew for a long time, scanning his face, giving him that look, the one which burns Andrew from the inside. Warm.

"The next time one of them says you're soulless, I might have to fight them."

All Andrew's words, and Neil manages to find the sliver of realness buried in it. For a moment, Andrew thinks Neil will let it go, for Andrew's sake. But, he should know better. They're no longer at that point, and Bee would call that progress, but Andrew doesn't know what to do with it yet.

All he knows is that if Neil thinks he can soothe any of Andrew's thoughts, he will, no matter how many times Andrew tells him he doesn't need it.

It's quiet, when Neil finally speaks. "You wouldn't hurt me," he whispers into the small space between them. Andrew hadn't realized they'd gotten so close, but there's his forearm, pressed right against Neil's. No wincing, no queasiness.

Andrew starts to turn away, and Neil risks blocking him with his hand. Andrew's vision is all blue, Neil's bangs such a mess he wants so badly to push them back again. "You wouldn't hurt me Andrew, if that's what you're worried about. You couldn't. I trust you. Of course I want to, but it's not a deal breaker. Stop treating it like one."

Andrew doesn't move, it's amazing he can even look at Neil, but he can't stop. There's so much he could argue in return, lots to prove wrong. Neil doesn't know anything about this, he can't possibly get it, or know what he's really giving Andrew, or what he’ll want in the future.

Their future; another subject to flood Andrew's brain. Too much at once, too much.

And yet, Neil is a deadly weapon, except with Andrew the slicing wounds give way to blooms instead of blood.

Neil strikes. "If you decide it's a yes, and I come back and say no, would it be a deal breaker for you?"

Andrew twitches from the mere thought, which is as good as a full body jerk. Neil could say he never wanted to have sex again and Andrew wouldn't push, he'd stay. "No," he seethes, unable to keep it out of his voice. Neil goes right for the throat every time, making one of Andrew's arguments null.

As for the other...

"I want to," Neil says, and for once, he seems embarrassed. It's a rare thing on Neil, the worried lip, the giddiness. Like he's excited. It's not even about the sex, he's pretty sure Neil did this when Andrew first held his hand too. Andrew's stomach flips itself over in half, the bastard.

"You wouldn't be taking either," Neil says, and Andrew flinches internally. Hurting Neil...he could hurt Neil, he could-- "We'd be...sharing, like we always do. So you can stop beating yourself up over my decision, and think about yours."

In Neil speak: Do whatever you need to do to figure out what you need, I'll be waiting.

Andrew hates the assumptions, mostly because they're right. This is not something he can resolve with one conversation. The thought of somehow ruining this for Neil, for making his first time something horrible, is too much for him to unpack this quickly. Who knows how long it will take him to reach a decision, or what the decision will be.

Yet, Neil's here, telling him he doesn't care how long it takes, or where Andrew lands at the end of it. He'll be here, now and after.

What percent is Neil even at? The millions maybe. Andrew's blood boils before it comes down to a simmer, then fades completely. Andrew never asked to feel, but Neil is wearing him down everyday.

The thought repeats: Andrew doesn't know how to stop.

He clenches his fists, grabbing Neil's shoulder and forcing him down onto his side to lie next to him. Words won't work for him anymore, and he's not capable of touching or even kissing right now. But it's a concession, a thing he is learning to give without despising the weakness of it.

Neil gives a small yelp but goes with Andrew willingly, not resisting. His curls fan out on the comforter, one decorated with cats that Nicky gifted them. Andrew sighs; Neil has yet to make any sense to him, even when the entrance to the messy path ahead of him has cleared.

He'll need as much rest as possible to figure this out. It's too early to go to bed, but after all this Andrew needs sleep, and he hates how Neil being next to him has become the new normal.

"I fucking hate you," he says in the small margin of space between them, and closes his eyes before he can be blinded by Neil's idiotic smile. "Go to sleep junkie."

Andrew's memory feeds him Neil's smile anyways.

Neil sighs across from him, and Andrew immediately feels drowsy, like it's a spell over him. He falls into it, not resisting.

As the world fades in and out, the most important thoughts stay afloat, and he embeds them in his head. They're less like mosquitoes now, more like additional grooves.

Neil wants it, Neil is ready. There's no sense in Andrew dwelling on that issue further for now, so he bypasses the first lock of his mind. Of course, he was never so optimistic to think that was the only thing holding him back, and Neil pulled that out of him too.

The big issue, the one holding Andrew back. The striker's words flood his mind, blurred and echoed. 'You wouldn't hurt me.'

But is that the truth? There's only one way to find out, and Andrew isn't sure if it's something he's willing to risk. Neil never was and never will be someone fragile, but that’s not the point. That’s not what Andrew means.

Just the realization he has the power to hurt Neil with this, the way Andrew was hurt…it makes him shy away from any attempt.

After all, he decided long ago he wouldn't risk losing Neil, not for anything, returning words said on rooftops. And yet…Neil makes him itch to prove those things wrong.

He's not sure yet where to go from here, but he pushes it aside to think about later. He has as much time as he needs. With the first lock conquered, the tension in his shoulders relaxes. Neil thinks about it, wants it. So can Andrew.

Just like that, Andrew finally concedes; he lets the idea of want flood in.

This time, there's no guilt to be found. Neil, with all intentions, made sure of that.

--

[ikeromantic]

Horns

Day 24 of Ikemektober!

I chose Shakespeare - I’ve no idea what happens in his route. This is entirely my brain (caffeinated), the prompt, and deciding The Bard had to get his own story. It’s spicy fluff. Approx 1800 words.

Will picked up the costumes for his next production - a new play, inspired by his patron. They were fanciful pieces, with bat wings and goat horns and hooves. There was even a serpent-skin coat in the lot. Perfect for the story of a devilish king and his court of impish jesters. 

The play was equal parts suffering and passion. He hoped Comte would come to see it, or that rumors of it would reach his ears at least. Taunting the old vampire was a dangerous sport, but for William, that only made it a more alluring pursuit.

If he had eternity, or close to it, to make his plays, there was no subject that was taboo. He would push his art to its limit - and his life with it, as his plays were so enmeshed with experience that sometimes he had trouble separating one from the other.

“Will? Will, is that you?” The voice caught him mid-thought. His arms were so full of costumerie that he couldn’t see who was speaking, but he knew anyhow. 

“What fair maid calls mine name so sweetly? Could it be my newest friend?”

She laughed in reply, a bright sound. Unburdened. “I don’t know why you always speak in poetry, Will.” 

He felt her hand touch his arm, the lightest brush of her fingertips like a touch of fire. “Do you need help carrying those in?”

“Fear not, I’ve strength enough to finish - but if you could - the door?” Shakespeare heard her open the door to his home. He walked in and set the costumes on the nearest table. 

The girl followed him in, her eyes darting about in curious fashion - as if she wanted to see everything before he stopped her looking. 

Will smiled. It was strange to see her here, alone. He wondered if the Comte’s imps knew she’d come. He somehow doubted it. “To what do I owe this unforeseen pleasure? I hope tis nothing untoward.”

“Oh, no. I was just going to market to pick up a few things and I saw you getting out of the carriage.” She shrugged, the gesture gentle and indefinable feminine. “I thought maybe you’d like to have a coffee with me - or a tea. We didn’t get to talk much last time I saw you.”

“No, indeed we did not. You are always most welcome here, whither you’ve only passed by or come to visit with intent.” He motioned to his parlor. “Please, go in and sit down. I’ll put on some tea.”

Her bright smile returned. “Good! I was hoping you weren’t busy right now, but when I saw you with all those - clothes?” She glanced at the pile with wide eyes, “I thought maybe you were in the middle of something.”

“I am never to busy to see you, fair one.” He found his own mouth curling upward with genteel pleasure. The sensation made him vaguely uneasy, as if this was dangerous ground he tread. She always did this - setting him on edge with her cheery disposition. He wondered if something dark lay beneath it, something that, with prying, he could uncover. If so, it lay deep.

Will left to put on a pot of tea. When he came back, she was still in the entry hall, picking at the pile of costumes. 

“What are you doing?”

She jumped back, dropping her hands to her sides. “I - sorry! They just looked so interesting. I wanted to see if I could figure out the play from the clothing.” Her hands grasped her skirt, a nervous gesture. 

Shakespeare closed the distance between them in a few quick steps. He knew how unnerving his heterochromatic gaze was, especially on silly little girls. “And? Did you find me out?”

“M-midsummer Night’s Dream?” She guessed, voice full of hope. 

“No.” Will leaned down until his nose almost touched hers. “I am afraid you’ve now been rude on two accounts. Searching through what belongs to another, and assuming a dramatist is bound by their older work.” The irritation he felt around her lent heat to his words, a sharpness despite his soft voice. 

She looked down. “I’m so sorry, Will. I didn’t mean to be rude.” She sounded almost at the edge of tears, far more upset at his reprimand than he expected. 

Will drew a line with his finger at the edge of her jaw and tipped her face up to his. “I shall forgive you this once, if you consent to a single favor. What say you, fair maid?”

“A favor?” She was trembling, her pulse racing. Excitement or fear? Will wasn’t certain.

“Indeed. I’ve need to check each costume you’ve handily sorted through in that pile. I can try on the gents’ clothing but the ladies’ outfits I must use a mannequin for. Today, you will be my mannequin.”

Her face brightened, though he could still feel her galloping heartbeat. “I could - could do that. It sounds exciting!” She bit her bottom lip, suddenly thoughtful. “Would you tell me what the play is about?”

“Perchance, if I am pleased.” Shakespeare stepped away from her, relieved and disappointed by the distance between them.

She immediately headed back to the pile of costumes, picking at them until she’d found a woman’s costume. “What is this one supposed to be?” She held up the oddly cut dress. It was all long, straight lines and harsh edges. Dark colors.

“It is clothing from the future.” He couldn’t help the wicked smile that lit up his thin face. 

“Oh! Neat!” Her innocent enthusiasm missed the point entirely. She took a step toward the parlor, uncertain where she should go to change.

“Yes, you may undress in safety there. I shall refrain from opening the door.”

The tea kettle summoned him with its high pitched whistle. He went to pour the tea, and brought back a tray to set out for them both once the costume-modeling was done.

For himself, he chose the horned outfit. It was Faustian, at a glance. The jacket was black-furred, and the boot cover was made of hoof. The horns themselves were from a goat, but polished to obsidian black. The knobby twists seemed to capture the afternoon sun, reflecting nothing back. 

Shakespeare stepped into this study to change. It felt odd to slide on the heavy jacket. The pants were a little big on him, but solidly made and adjustable with the addition of a belt or suspenders. He slid the headpiece on last, savoring the weight of the horns.

The mirror showed him what a monster he’d become with just the change in wardrobe. He looked wild now, like a faun or a devil, out to hunt virgins in sacred groves. Will shook his hair loose to further the effect. In this, he was the divine hunter. The gentleman demon. It was funny how a costume could often bring out secrets closely held.

He stepped back into the entry hall. The girl was still shuffling around in the parlor. He could hear her. 

“Are you in need of assistance, fair one?”

“I- uh - the buttons are, they’re kind of hard to reach.” 

“Then rescue you, I shall. For what troubles lie under the sun that cannot be bested by two hearts in concert?” He pushed open the door.

Sunlight came through the curtains, painting the room in sunset hue. The girl was standing straight, trying in vain to hold the gown up with one hand, the other reaching for buttons ill-placed. Her cheeks were stained pink, eyes wide.

“Tis no matter, fair maid. I’ve seen many a pretty half in, and half-out of costume. You’ve no need to fear my eye, nor my helping hands.” Will tried to reassure her, though he found her discomfort amusing. He had, in fact, seen many beautiful actresses in all stages of undress, but none quite like her. 

Her face didn’t have the diamond hardness of the determined beauty. She lacked the edge of feminine weaponry, as if ignorant of her body’s charms. It only made him more away of her bare shoulders, the curve of her breast at the side. The naked line of her back as she turned to present him with the impossible buttons.

“You look amazing,” she babbled. “Like a faun! It’s called a faun, right? But . . . more cultured?” She inhaled sharply as Will brushed a finger down her spine. 

“More of a devil, I’m afraid.” Her shiver provoked in him a need to touch her. He resisted it. He was the writer of passions - a witness. Not a participant. The director did not star in his dramas. He buttoned the dress and stepped away from her.

The girl turned to face him, brushing a hand down the front of the dress to smooth it. The dark blue was perfect for her. And the way it clung to her curves - indecent. Will did not think he’d see a clearer map of her body even if she stood nude before him. Best was the slit up the side of the skirt, as if made for a dancer. Her skin tantalized in glimpses, drawing the eye.

“You’re staring. Is it - is it bad?”

“No.” Shakespeare shook himself. “It is a perfect costume for the victim of a demon.” He gave a wicked sharp smile. “Do you feel like a victim, fair one?”

She started to laugh, but stopped at his forbidding expression. “You kind of scare me sometimes, Will.”

“And fear me you should. For I am a wicked creature.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her against his chest. She smelled sweet, like perfume. 

“Will,” she gasped, trying to pull away.

“It is too late for you, fair maid. To my lair you came, and now you shall never leave.” He lowered his head to her neck, letting her feel the slightest prick of his fangs.

“Th-this isn’t funny. Let me go,” she whimpered. 

Shakespeare realized his own heart was beating as wildly as hers, his breath as ragged. He pushed her away. “I am - am only acting my part. The horned devil.”

“Then you’re a pretty good actor.” She stared at him, wary. “I think I should probably go.” 

Will reached up, touching the cold, sharp tip of one of the horns. “Yes, perhaps you should. Send the dress - no, better, keep the dress. It fits not the character of my new script, but I think it sits perfectly upon you.”

She blushed. “Ah, alright. If you’re sure.” Though she took a few steps toward the exit, it seemed she would hesitate, now uncertain if he posed a danger to her. 

Shakespeare stepped closer to her, widening his thin, sharp smile. “Unless, fair maid, you’d like to stay and allow me to remove the garment from your skin . . . with my teeth.” 

“Nope! No thank you!” She practically ran away, comical in her haste. 

Will stood there in the sun-drenched parlor, still smelling her light perfume. It felt so much emptier with her gone. And though he’d hoped for peace in her absence, he felt only turmoil. 

“Perhaps I truly am bedeviled,” he mused. The blackened horns atop his head bobbed in silent agreement.