#it's too late to care about shadows/lighting and stuff so nothing fancy from me tonight (I did try to clean the sketch tho)

[ink--theory]

someone liked one of my ancient agent 32 pieces from like 3 years ago and I got so embarrassed looking at it that I decided to redraw it b4 bed

[rosemary-writes]

What are you afraid to see?: Part 4

(Dwayne x GN! Reader)

AN: I’m sorry this took so long. College is really rough at the moment

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: none

“Wait, I almost forgot to tell you my address.” you quickly said before either of you could hang up. Quickly you told him your address and on the other line you heard the sounds of pen on paper.

“Got it.” he replied and quietly said goodbye. You could hear the line click. Gently, you set the phone back on the receiver and turned to your guests.

“So, something tells me that you have a hot date later.” Richard said with a beaming face.

“It’s nothing serious. Most likely, we will simply go to the boardwalk.” you replied, going to the kitchen to grab some cups. You could see Richard nudge Alice.

“If it’s nothing serious, then would you mind if I gave him my number?” Richard asked, walking over to the kitchen counter. You whipped around and gave him a glare, “Don’t.”

“They waited almost a week for him to call.” Alice said, putting some tapes on the table.

“You waited that long?” Ruth asked, looking at you from the fridge. You nodded. “Honestly, if it was me, I would’ve gone and found someone else.” She said, peering around. You rolled your eyes.

“Well, I think he’s very handsome and nice.” you replied, going into the living room. You set the glasses down on the table and went to your tv to mess around with it.

“Just because he’s nice and handsome, doesn’t mean he is a good person.” Chris interjected from the couch. There were hums of agreement though the house.

“Well, I will be able to figure that out, later tonight.” You responded.

“We could shadow your date. Y’know, in case he turns out to be an asshole.” Richard said, sitting next to Chris.

“You could. I won’t interject because I can’t control you.” You replied. A smile reappeared on your face as you finally got the tv on the correct setting.

Chris whispered to Richard and the girls came back to the living room.

“Okay, the tv is ready for vhs and we can eat or drink whatever we want.” you said, standing up,“However, tonight I will not allow drinking.”

The room erupted into groans of disapproval.

“Thankfully, I brought good movies and good snacks.” Richard said. You smiled as you picked up the rented films.

“Yes, Rich, I can tell you brought good movies. I also can tell that you want us to watch Labyrinth for the thousandth time.” you said as you carefully put the vhs down. He quickly began to sputter about how he liked the plot.

“It's okay Richard. You can say you like to watch it because of David Bowie’s tight fitting pants.” Ruth commented. You smiled and continued to look over. After a while you all decided to start with a recent movie.

You set it up and went to turn off the lights. All of you decided to get all bunched up on the couch and there was a mutual agreement to add comments when necessary. Richard eventually squeezed his way next to you.

About half way through, Chris spoke up about the film.

“Y’know, I saw a kid that looked just like Corey Feldman.” he said, grabbing a soda can off of the floor.

“You so did not.” Ruth replied from next to Alice.

“I so did too! He works at that little comic shop.” Chris said looking at Ruth.

“Do you mean the one thats run by those two brothers?” Richard asked, turning his head towards Chris.

“Yes! They hardly ever talk to someone unless they have intense comic book knowledge.” Chris said, turning his body toward Richard.

“Oh my gosh, I know exactly who you're talking about! They once grilled me about a comic I was going to buy for your birthday.” Richard replied.

“Did you tell them that you knew nothing about it and that it was for a friend?” Ruth asked, peering over.

“No, I left because I felt like an idiot.” Richard mumbled.

“Why did you let them embarrass you? They’re like twelve years old, man.” Chris said with a hint of laughter at the end of his sentence. Richard groaned and buried his face into a cushion.

“Oh come on, they can’t be that bad.” You interjected, looking over at Chris.

“They are!” Richard cried, moving his face from the cushion. “I’ve never felt so embarrassed in my life. All because I didn’t know which comic was which.” he said, rolling his eyes.

You kept the random comic book store in mind for another time.

“Okay, can we continue the movie?” You asked and everyone agreed. Then Alice had to put in her two cents about getting tired.

--

After a few movies and many minutes later, you had to get ready to meet Dwayne.

“Are you sure about going out this late with a guy you’ve only met once?” Richard asked, while cleaning up your living room with Chris. You were in the kitchen with Alice, cleaning off some plates.

“Well, you were the one that encouraged me to go on the date with your whimsical motions.” You replied.

“I think what he means is, are you going to be safe? There are a lot of missing people lately and we are in California.” Alice said, drying off a plate.

Oh yeah, there was that. That made you stop and think for a moment.

“Uh, well, I guess I hadn’t thought of that.” You said, setting a plate down in the soapy water.

“No! Don’t say that to them! It’s too late to get cold feet!” Ruth snapped, jolting from the couch. You turned to her and watched her pull something out from her purse.

“I’m going to give you these.” She said, pulling out pepper spray and a long nail file. “When I go on dates with people I've hardly met, I always take these incase the situation goes sour.” She continued, setting them down on the counter.

“I won’t take no for an answer, you are going to keep these on you.” She said seriously. You looked at the items and dried your hands.

“I guess I'll put these in my jacket pocket when he picks me up.” You said, going to inspect the objects. The nail filer was long and sharp. It looked like a miniature knife. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Richard say something to Chris.

“It’s 10:11, you should go freshen up.” Alice said, coming behind you.

“Yeah, I don’t want him to think I lazed about all day.” you said, going to your bedroom. You changed your clothes and pulled out one of your favorite jackets. The pockets were deep and they had buttons on a little flap so no one could pickpocket you. You grabbed it and then headed over to your bathroom.

You brushed your teeth, washed your face, and made yourself look nice. When you decided you looked nice, you exited the bathroom and went back into the living room.

Your friends were all gathering their things to leave and were quietly talking amongst themselves.

“So what are you guys going to be doing for the rest of the night?” you asked, slipping on your shoes.

“I don’t know, I have to pack up my stuff to go back home for the summer.” Richard said, zipping up his jacket. You hummed at the idea. You were going to miss them when they went home. Alice lived the closest to Santa Carla, but she was still a ways out.

You looked over at the clock again and it read 10:20. Ruth mumbled something about grabbing late night snacks. You went over to the counter top and grabbed the nail file and pepper spray. Carefully, you placed them into the pockets and buttoned them up.

“We’re going to head out. Call us when you get in and I want to know all of the details about your fancy date.” Richard said, grabbing his keys.

“Don’t worry, I’ll tell you everything about it.” You said, as they all stood up to leave. Everyone said their goodbyes and they left in their separate cars. You sighed and went to go sit on your couch. Your mind began to drift back to what Richard said. If he was a bad person then you had a way to defend yourself.

You bit your lip in anticipation. You really hoped he wasn’t horrible. Carefully, you reached to pull out the nail file. You were carefully inspecting it and noticed how it looked more like a small knife. As you were looking over it, you heard the sounds of a motorcycle pull up in your driveway. You put the file back into your pocket, grabbed your house key and wallet, and put them in the pocket as well.

Awkwardly, you stood in your living room. You anticipated going out to meet him but that thought was cut off with a few knocks on the door. You walked over to the door and gently opened it to be met with Dwayne.

“Hey.” You said, as a smile crept onto your face. You noticed how he had a necklace on with seashells.

“Good evening, it’s nice to know that I got the address correct.” He said, looking you up and down. The small action made you a bit self conscious but it went away as he spoke again.

“So, where would you like to go?” He asked, moving to walk to his bike. You closely followed him.

“I was thinking about the boardwalk. If that’s alright with you?” you asked. He turned around to look at you.

“Yeah, the boardwalk is fine. I can show you the good things.” He answered.

“Good, I’ve only been there once or twice.” you replied and Dwayne smiled at you. He sat on his bike and turned to you, “Well, come hop on.”

You walked over to his bike and sat down behind him. As he started it up, you wrapped your arms around him.

“Please be careful.” You said as he began to drive. You could feel him chuckle at that. Before you could blink, he sped out of your neighborhood. Your grip on him tightened as he began to head to the boardwalk.

It was exhilarating if you were being honest with yourself. Dwayne wasn’t going too fast and you were thankful for that. You had never ridden on a motorcycle before so this was new.

As he drove, you noticed how the night felt different. Maybe it was because you were going on a date and you had first date jitters. You couldn’t tell and part of you wanted to keep the mystery to it.

Dwayne stopped at a red light and you leaned forward to talk.

“So, how long have you been driving this bike?” you asked as the wind started to pick up.

“For a while, I guess. I can’t exactly remember when I started driving it.” he replied, as the light turned green. You didn’t continue the conversation since you didn’t want him to get in a wreck.

Dwayne continued to drive carefully and at a decent speed. After a few more minutes, you two arrived at the boardwalk. He parked his bike and gently helped you off. You thought it was sweet that he was being such a gentleman.

“So, what would you like to do first?” He asked, standing next to you.

“I don’t know. You probably know your way around here better than me.” you answered.

He chuckled and held out his arm for you to take. You hesitated for a second before you took his arm.

“Have you ever played one of the games?” He asked as you two began to walk.

“I tried a few but, I never actually won anything.” You replied.

He chuckled, “Well, I can win you something. If you’d like that?” He asked.

You smiled, “Yeah, that would be nice.”

[an-sceal]

Sleeping Sickness (Cobra Kai Fic)

Unfinished and abandoned, but going through this I can see seeds of each of the other stories/series I've written since then. This was written before I'd seen all of season 2, and any of season 3. I ultimately binned it because in my headcanon there's no way Johnny would have let Kreese be around his students if he'd at ALL recognized what he went through as abuse.

CW: vague mentions of child abuse, child s**ual abuse, s**ual assault

Johnny

He doesn’t remember the drive from his apartment- had he been at his apartment? Didn’t he come from the dojo? That’s not unusual, the autopilot, but moreso than it used to be. He hasn’t gotten behind the wheel loaded in months. Buzzed, which, yaddayadda, but not blind drunk. For a second he doesn’t know where he is, and then LaRusso’s perfect fucking life swims into focus and he groans.

Leaning against his steering wheel hurts too much, pulls things in places he can’t think about right now. Johnny opens his door and stumbles out of his car, winding up on his hands and knees when he can’t swing the low exit with anything approaching grace. LaRusso’s driveway has a crack in it, unavoidable in earthquake country, but it’s incongruous with the shadow of perfection cast by LaRusso’s house.

Johnny shouldn’t be here, but he doesn’t know how to leave.

You can leave anytime you want, Mr. Lawrence. I’m not keeping you here.

“Fuck you, old man.” Johnny pulls himself to his feet, running a hand through his hair. His clothes feel constricting, seams digging in, buttons chafing his skin, but they’re holding him in, keeping the world at least that much farther away from him.

Johnny stands on the front step and tries to make himself knock. Or he thinks he does.

He doesn’t remember.

Daniel

He and Amanda are sitting together on the couch in their pajamas, about to turn off the news and head to bed when both their phones ding with a motion alert from the front door camera. Daniel glances across the living room toward the foyer and sees that the light has come on over the front step. He goes to check it out, expecting to chase the Shermans corgi out of the bushes again, and finds Johnny Lawrence standing two feet from his front door.

Johnny’s hands are clenched into fists. Daniel would take it as a threat, but Johnny’s eyes aren’t tracking him, aren’t assessing a place to strike. He narrows his own, but the only thing he can smell is the wisteria and night blooming jasmine that climbs the trellis over their entry way.

He waits for Johnny to say something. And waits. He’s about to shut the door and go to bed when Amanda speaks. “Would you like to come in, Johnny?”

Daniel glances sideways at her, but she’s not looking at him, not even to scold him for his lacking manners. She’s got a pinch between her eyebrows that wasn’t there a moment ago.

He backs away from the door to make room, but nothing happens. He waves a hand into the house. Same. He glances at Amanda, and the tightness around her eyes has become a small frown. Daniel clears his throat softly.

“Hey man, are you okay?”

He doesn’t get an answer, but as Johnny brushes past him on the way into the house he can smell beer. At this point the man is probably 5% alcohol by volume whether he’s been drinking or not. There’s nothing sharp to the smell, nothing fresh or hinting at a brown bag with an empty bottle on this lawn.

Amanda has already led their guest into the living room by the time he’s done locking the door again. He takes a seat beside her on the sofa, Johnny at an angle on the loveseat across from them.

They wait again. Daniel is already thrumming with the low-grade buzz of whatever it is that gets under his skin every time he sees Johnny Lawrence, and in the late night silence it’s easy to pretend it’s annoyance.

“Are you going to say--”

Amanda puts her hand on his knee, just as Johnny cuts him off.

“Would you take my kids if I close the dojo?” Johnny’s voice is wrecked. He sounds like he’s been smoking a pack a day for 40 years, or come down with strep throat and tried to gargle it away with battery acid.

Daniel’s jaw clicks shut. He… What now?

“That sounds painful. Let me get you some water, at least.” Amanda slips away toward the kitchen, placing a hand lightly on Johnny’s shoulder as she goes. Johnny flinches.

Daniel meets his thousand-yard stare with suspicion, still trying to nail down what flavour of wasted this might be. Maybe it’s drugs, but he can almost imagine the denial, the pitch Johnny’s voice would take on. “I’m a drunk, asshole, not a junkie.”

“They need someone--” Johnny breaks off into a small coughing fit, grimacing, and Daniel is starting to wonder if he’s got consumption or something. That, or maybe he’s high, and this is all a scruffy blonde hallucination.

“They’ve got you,” he allows, because he’s too tired to make it sound like an insult.

Something changes in Johnny’s face, under the obvious bruising and around his bloodshot eyes. He gets sharper, somehow, more in focus. His breath stutters, jaw clenching before he winces and squeezes his eyelids closed. He shifts on the sofa, obviously trying to adjust to whatever injury he’s currently favouring, and that same wreck of a voice is so much more at home now, so in keeping with the defensive way he holds himself.

“Can’t do it. Need someone to keep them safe from Kreese.”

They aren’t friends or anything, but Daniel knows enough to see how much it costs Johnny to be there, to ask that, to admit to wanting any help at all. He suspects if it wasn’t for his kids, Johnny would slink off into the hills like a coyote.

Where the hell did Amanda go, anyway?

Johnny’s gaze has dropped to his own hands, and Daniel follows it. A few of his knuckles are bloodied, and one finger is darkly bruised. There’s something under his fingernails, but it could be anything. Daniel tells himself that firmly. It could be anything. It’s blood.

“He’ll hurt them,” Johnny rasps, his large hands working over each other without a care for the obvious injuries.

It’s only because Daniel is staring at Johnny’s hands that he notices the fine tremors rippling through his whole body.

Johnny

He knows he’s fucked up by coming here, to Daniel with his permanent and well-earned grudge. To Lady LaRusso and her sharp-eyed sympathy. He knows. They’re going to see through him, realize his failure and fix it, and then he’ll leave.

Nausea cramps at his stomach again when Amanda comes back from the kitchen and hands him a mug of tea. What is it with fucking tea? This stuff smells like weak ginger ale and grass, and Johnny has to press his other hand over his mouth to make sure he swallows back the bile that rises in his throat. His throat feels…

It feels like nothing. It’s all nothing. He can get through this.

The mug is hot, and it feels good against the finger he thinks might be dislocated, maybe broken. The tea scalds his skin when he shakes a little too obviously, and someone takes it away. Someone is talking to him. Someone is asking him things he doesn’t know the answers to. Is he okay? Fuck yeah, he’s awesome- it’s the rest of the world that sucks. Is he hurt? Nothing hurts because everything hurts, and anyway he can’t draw a deep enough breath to explain that.

People are talking to him, blue eyes, brown, and he just needs it to be nothing again, so he covers his face with his hands and tries to block it out. But that’s for pussies anyway, and nothing happened.

“Hey, hey, stop that.” LaRusso’s wrapping a hand around his wrist, gently, but not the gentle of something delicate. Gently, because he thinks Johnny is dangerous, a cornered animal about to bite. Which he is. He’s biting his hand, making a noise, Jesus fuck, what kind of man makes that noise?

The renewed taste of blood in his mouth is such a welcome relief that it almost calms the monster caught halfway between his gut and his throat, trying to claw its way out of his chest.

There’s a firm hand on his forehead, pushing his hair back. Amanda is sitting on the coffee table in front of him, directing his face so all he can see hers when she puts both her hands on his cheeks and makes everything go still for a second.

Daniel, Daniel fuckin LaRusso, who once kicked him in the face and ruined (saved maybe) his life, sits down next to him and puts an arm around his shoulders. And he fucking lets him.

Amanda presses against the sides of his face again, steady and trying to make him look at her. He does, for a second, before he gets fascinated by her earring and looks there instead.

“We’ll do yes or no for now, okay?”

He nods, his lower lip caught between his teeth.

“Is one of your students in trouble right now?”

They think he’d be here, if one of his kids was-- Johnny shakes his head.

“Do you need a doctor?”

Fucking people and their health insurance, like you can just go see a doctor any time you want. If he’s still pissing blood next week he’ll do a drop in at the Planned Parenthood and pretend he thinks he’s got VD.

His throat tightens at the thought, then his stomach, and he tries to tell them he’s going to puke. He must manage something, verbal or not. LaRusso shoves some fancy ass decorative bowl under his face, and Johnny drools into it like a dog who ate grass. His body wars- stomach wanting to expel, throat too swollen to allow it, and his lungs and ribs caught somewhere between, stabbing him with every hitching attempt to get a handle on himself.

“Shhh, shhh, it’s okay.” The last thing he should want are hands on him. He should be fighting. He should be, but he’s already lost tonight. He’s lost.

Johnny throws up in Daniel LaRusso’s stupid bowl, on his stupid couch, in his stupid house. Daniel’s stupid warm hand is on his back, rubbing gentle circles between his shoulders. Daniel’s beautiful wife is petting his hair. He thinks he maybe got blood on her robe.

The last heave feels like it tears something in his abdomen, and he welcomes the fresh, white-hot pain. It doesn’t erase the rest, but he’s a body built for endurance. This, at least is something real to live through, not some pansy panic attack.

After a minute the bowl disappears, and he swallows the noise he makes when the warmth at his side goes with it. Amanda holds the mug up for him to drink from, and he doesn’t even take it from her, just swallows and pretends it’s not the second most disgusting thing he’s had in his mouth tonight.

Her attention is all on setting the mug on the table next to her when Johnny manages to grind out what he came here for. “It was just supposed to be me. But he’ll pick favorites again.”

The clear-eyed horror on her face is instant, and he wants to apologize, to make her understand that it was supposed to be safe. That it’s his fault Kreese did those things, his fault he let it happen, his fault he was weak and needy and made a grown man want him those ways. Johnny is the problem. His kids were never supposed to be involved.

Amanda tries to touch his face again, but he jerks away. He’d let her before, but now he realizes she might have rested her fingers on the filth smeared all over him, that he brought that here, to them, these people who owe him nothing and don’t even really like him. He’s a carrier, a plague rat. And all he can do is try to keep Miguel and the rest of them safe from the disease that’s been in him since the first time his sensei told him he was good and he knew he’d do anything to keep feeling that way.

“Is he still…” She always has the right words, but she’s clearly at a loss for how to ask someone who punches everything that pisses him off if he’s such a pussy that an old man is giving him the bad touch.

The numb reality settles over him, so much colder than before. He hit his knees like he was 14 again, swallowed John Kreese’s poison like a willing little bitch. “He swore it was just me, that he’d never-- that I’d always made him-- They weren’t part of it. I did what he wanted.”

The sound of glass shattering against LaRusso’s million dollar tile floor doesn’t even make him flinch.

Daniel

Daniel sweeps up the glass carefully, watching the upstairs hallway to make sure neither of the kids comes down. By the time he’s got everything in the trash, he’s pretty sure he didn’t wake them. From the kitchen, he can see Johnny hunched miserably on the loveseat, and Amanda perched next to him, one hand on his shoulder. She’s speaking, but he can’t hear what she’s saying.

He’s surprised he can hear anything at all, when the rush of blood to his head is still pounding in his ears. His mind is spinning a million scenarios, each more disturbing than the last, and it’s fucking him up on a fundamental level that his grounding point is the knowledge that Johnny goddamn Lawrence would probably throw himself in front of a bullet to protect one of his students. Daniel doesn’t understand how that can co-exist with the way he allowed Kreese into his dojo, even supervised.

Don’t you, though? He might be three decades older, and Terry Silver hasn’t emerged from the shadows to twist him up again, but the knowledge that a mentor could use you against your own better judgement isn’t all that hard to recall. For the millionth time, he wishes he could talk to Mr. Miyagi.

Then again, Mr. Miyagi wasn’t some kind of mystic. He was just an old man who’d seen a lot more pain and life than Daniel. The single most important thing Mr. Miyagi had given him was kindness in the face of his own anger and self-doubt. It wasn’t an ancient karate secret-- it was just compassion. Humanity.

At the end of the day, sharing that with Johnny couldn’t be that hard, could it?

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Ashamed

Summary: Could I request one where Eddie is ashamed of the scar on his chest from Pennywise and that he refuses to take his shirt off for any reason until Richie confronts him and tells him that the scar is a reminder of his bravery and he takes Eddie's shirt off and kisses it?

A/N: I hope you enjoy and I’m so sorry it took so long! I’m a bit behind on my request but I promise I’m trying to finish request every day so to everyone who has requested stuff, I promise it’s coming!  

warnings: there’s a sex joke in here, and a sex reference (not graphic at all) 

Eddie has contemplated before on hanging up a towel over the mirror any and each time he’s in the bathroom by himself. He’s never executed the plan, Richie’s too observant for that too work and would notice but straight away, leading to questions Eddie’s ashamed to answer, but whenever Richie is away on tour or a show, he’ll prop the towel from one side to the other, obscuring the view of his chest.

He’s never been very confident in his appearance, but he wasn’t hyper aware of it like he is after the Pennywise accident either. He didn’t have to be. For years Myra smothered him with her self-presumed love and adoration, picking out the clothes he wore and buying all the creams and aftershave she treasured, and Eddie followed her in those things without stopping and thinking about what he liked and how he wanted to sell himself towards other people.

Once, he was gifted a perfume bottle from one of his coworkers, a secret Santa gift, and when he sprayed it on to go to work the next day, Myra picked up on the change and gave him a piece of her mind. She reamed Eddie about not remodeling himself to be accepted by his peers, not mulling that maybe the Eddie she prepared and drilled every morning was not the real Eddie. There were threats being ushered, like Eddie cheating on Myra and switching perfumes to galvanize his mistress, and no matter how many times Eddie tried to reason with her, she was dead set on the idea.

He tossed the bottle out that same day, immensely guilty that he gave Myra grounds to question him. She was right after all, Eddie was married, and he didn’t have to make anyone happy except his wife, not even himself.

Post Derry him is happier. So fucking happy he gleams and elates every morning awakening in Richie’s arms, or the other way around, nosing behind Richie’s ear to get that one little inch closer, turning off the alarm and dosing an extra hour, work suddenly coming second for once in Eddie’s life. Richie had that effect on him, made him long to be near him twenty-four/seven,

But he also feels worse, and that can be tracked back to the long, vertical scar smacked in the middle of his chest. It’s starts in the mornings, but in a stand offish way, the insecurities bubbling on the edge of his mind loud enough that Eddie knows they’re there, but not so ample close that Eddie nitpicks and examines them, yet.

And at first it wasn’t even that bad, Eddie mostly enthralled with moving his stuff in and out of houses, and fitting as much RichieandEddie time into their shared schedule to gain back what they lost over the years, the underlying doubt and terror every time he caught a glimpse of the scar background to the best moments of his life.

It only really became a problem the first time Eddie and Richie made love to each other, and Eddie refused to take of his shirt. The pleasant, hot and vastly attractive sight of Richie’s slightly pudgy stomach and thighs, and his clean, smooth chest Eddie could run his fingers over and not bubble once incited a deep meekness and carved him hallow. Emptied by the idea that he’s horrific and undeserving of the adoration so blindingly clear in his boyfriends eyes.

Most off all, the scar is reminiscent on the clown trauma, proof that Pennywise maintains some sort of power over him, in comparisons to his friends and Richie, who moved on with their lives. It distinguishes him from the group, and not in a good way. In a way that shines a bright neon spot over Eddie’s head, accentuating his cowardness.  

The reflections displayed in the mirror exhibits his slip up, his idiocy to entertain the idea of him being strong enough to defeat Pennywise all on his own, he wants nothing to do with it. The scar tissue puckers up his skin and his disgust is so deeply rooted that he didn’t even bother to check up on it for months after Derry, to assure it didn’t fester.

So no, Eddie doesn’t conceal the glass whenever Richie is home, but what he does do is strip down everything except for his shirt when slipping in the shower, towing the shower curtain and tossing the shirt out, rumpled on the floor, via the small slit.

The wrinkles in his shirt agitate him, but are a small price to pay for preserving his sanity and spirits. In the shower he resolutely does not look down at all, his eyes trained on the ugly pattern of tiles Richie claimed came with the house when he bought it, but Eddie suspects he just really fancy’s it.

Eddie always neatly packs his new shirt on the countertop, effortlessly accessible from the lavatory so he can dry off and pull on his shirt without drawing his own attention to his chest.

Stowing away his insecurity is a weight he’s been holding over his own head, so dangerously close to imbalance and tumbling over that Eddie feels shifting his attention from it slightly will let it all crash down on him. Because Richie has a tenacious personality, and once he catches a whiff of it, he’ll cling to the smallest straws to get to the bottom of it.

The schedule Eddie’s built has never been interrupted before, Richie knowing, or at least being tricked into knowing, and understanding that the bathroom serves as Eddie’s sanctuary, a place for being alone and restocking and regrouping his overactive mind. The interference in the schedule is Eddie’s own wrongdoing, for glossing over the fact that they had a dinner party to attend to, and dragging out his time in the bathroom for way too long plus forgetting to grab a change of clothing.

He only addresses the issue at hand when the shower runs cold and he’s bordering on being late, contemplating his options with his hands resting on his hips. Richie always sings a derivative of a song before entering a room, transforming the lyrics in a way that fits in Eddie and Richie’s life, as a substitute for knocking as that’s boring according to him, but Eddie discerns tiny snores emerging from the living room, so Eddie hurriedly dries off and dons his underwear, training his eyes down casted to not look at the mirror.

He wastes a long time debating on what to wear, matching multiple t-shirts to the pants he has elected to wear, unbeknownst that the snoring in the other room has ebbed away. This is an important business meeting with Richie’s new manager, one that will lift up his spirits and encourage him to fly solo, writers free, and Eddie can’t afford to mess this up. He’s scrutinizing an oxford-button-down forest green shirt, analyzing if there’s a spot on the fabric or if it’s a trick of the light.  

Hearing the caroling a smidge too late, Eddie has no time to slip in the shirt before the door cracks open, Richie’s wild curls sticking out in every direction and his pants too low, pulled down from the movements he slanders during sleep.

‘I was about to call the ambulance and ask them to assemble a rescue mission’, he quips, feet padding the carpet of the bedroom lazily.

The weight Eddie’s been bearing up dislodges and veers menacingly to the edge, a gust away from keeling over the edge.

‘Get out’, Eddie says calmly the first time, contorting his body so his upper torse is veiled from Richie’s observation, the button-down serving as a shield of sorts. ‘Get out’, he clamors, a panic attack lurking in the shadows and prowling on his burst of utter panic.

‘Eds’, Richie says perplexed, his eyebrows contracting, his droopy eye more squinted than it is with his face slacked.

‘Get out, I don’t want to see you’, Eddie hisses, witnessing the decay of Richie’s happy face, teetering away backwards and back out in the hallway.

Eddie swallows, the door obstructing his outlook on Richie, and appareling his shirt so fast it tears around the sleeves, pretending he didn’t hear that. His instincts lure him to hide under the covers and wait for the whole thing to blow over, but his comments hurt Richie and his instincts were formed his primary years, while living with his mother, so he does the exact opposite.

‘Rich’, he groans, eyeing Richie leaning on the counter, his body jutting out, dancing on his feet and shelving the cleaned dishes.  

‘Richie stop.’ Eddie plasters himself against Richie’s back, fitting so perfectly like puzzle pieces, like a riddle so complicated that’s been solved. He hooks his chin over Richie’s shoulder, kissing the underside of his jaw.

‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled.’

‘No it’s fine, it’s my fault. I need to learn how to knock. I didn’t mean to agitate you.’

‘You didn’t agitate me. I know I say you do all the time but somehow everything you do is endearing, not irritating.’

‘Careful Eddie Spaghetti, you’ll give me a big head.’

‘I can do that tonight if you’d like?’ Eddie teased, the tight knot in his heart uncoiling at the rumbling of Richie’s laugh.

Richie rotated in his arms, front to front, hugging Eddie back in equal fierce as Eddie did too him.

‘Forgive me?’

‘That depends my good follow, however shall you atone me?’ He released Eddie with one arm, using his hand to tap his chin thoughtfully. ‘Hm, perhaps with a reason as to why?’, his British accent lacing his words.

‘Rich, I really don’t want to talk about it.’

‘Come on,’ Richie pleaded, pouting with his bottom lip. ‘How can I help if you won’t tell me what’s going on?’

Eddie sighed, his arms cave in and the weight collapses down upon him. ‘I just don’t want you to envision this’, he says, unconsciously smoothing down his shirt on the spot his wound is located.

‘Envision what? You?’

‘No’, Eddie explains miserably, ‘I mean the scar, the disfigurement.’

‘Eddie’, Richie gently chuckles, ‘I don’t give a shit about that.’

‘That’s because you haven’t seen it yet. It’s so ugly and,’ Eddie interrupted himself, unwinding from Richie to give himself some breathing space. Being near Richie is intoxicating, but he needed to think clearly.

‘And what?’ Richie pries.

‘How much of a coward I am okay? I don’t want you to look at me and realize how much better you can do.’

‘Eddie, do you honestly believe you’re a coward?’

‘Yeah.’ Shame flooding the tips of his ears, making it harder to engage the conversation, when all Eddie wanted was to leave and go the this dinner.

‘Like I told you down in the sewers, you’re braver than you think, Eds. I’m the one who aimed higher and scored the jackpot.’ Richie asseverate.

‘You keep saying that but I’m the only one idiot enough to get injured.’

‘That’s no true, I strained my leg muscle.’ Richie states, twisting his leg, reliving the memory of the shards of affliction lodging in.

‘Seriously, maybe you’re the only one that got hurt, but you survived. Who in the world can claim there’s so badass that they lived through being shish kebabbed? By a demon from outer space no less.’

‘No one I guess.’

‘No one, erase the “I guess”. Give yourself some credit.’ Richie says firmly, outstretching his arm and then thinking better of it. ‘Can I touch it?’

‘Richie,’ Eddie hesitated, eyes flitting around the room as if to plan his escape.

‘I’ll be really gentle. And if you don’t like it I’ll pull back straight away.’ The soft tone settles Eddie somewhat, and with a hesitant nod, Richie slowly inches closer. He goes so leisurely, as one would approach a feral kitten, but Eddie keeps the parallels to himself, Richie will tease him relentlessly for it.

Eddie expected Richie to slide under his shirt from the get go, but all Richie does is pet his chest on top of the shirt, mapping out the area and feeling where the scar is located.

The area is strangely sensitive, a reason why Eddie has to douche it softly as opposed to the harsh scrubbing he’s used to doing to every other part of his physics.

Only the barely-there, soft touches of Richie’s fingers pawing, tickles Eddie, realizing a breathless hum as he gets acquainted to Richie and him converging in that spot.

Eddie giggles, Richie steadily ongoing his ministrations, until the notion borders on too much, and he plummets to his knees.

He kisses top of the blemish, all the way to the underside, blowing a raspberry there as if the normal kiss wasn’t ticklish enough.

Eddie cackles, halfheartedly shoving Richie backwards, his worries fizzling out into the night. The smooches leave a trail of slobber from Richie’s mount, wilting spots on his blouse Richie’s manager will discern him in.  

‘Richie stop, you’re going to ruin it and we have to leave soon.’

‘Nah, I cancelled.’

‘You cancelled? Why?’

‘Because the love of my love, my Eddie Spaghetti, my Eds, gave off the impression he was in a pretty foul mood.’

‘Was I that obvious?’ Eddie grumbles, fingers racking lovingly trough Richie’s curls.

‘No, I just have a knack for you. Anyways I rescheduled.’

‘Oh Rich you didn’t have to do that. What is she going to think of you?’

‘I don’t care. Look, if she’s striving to be my manager she best believe that my career always come second. You’re my number one priority, no matter what.’

Eddie’s eyes turn bloodshot, blinking rapidly to contain the upcoming flow of tears. Richie presses a final kiss, then resurfaces upwards, a lopsided grin grazing his face.

‘You’re not going to take it off?’ Eddie inquires fretful, not sure what he wants the answer to be.

‘No, later, when you’re more at ease. But Eds, I need you to know, I’m going to look at it, and all that will be going on in my mind is holy fuck. That scar is symbolic for how strong and daring you are, and how glad I am to have you here breathing with me. That motherfucking clown tried everything, and he still couldn’t kill you. You know why? Because you’re a stubborn little basterd, and also indestructible. And I love you so much.’

The taste of salt explodes on Richie’s tongue, surprisingly, he hadn’t got a clue he was crying in the first place.

‘Great, good job idiot. Now look at us, two blubbering idiot sniffling in a kitchen’, Eddie grumbled, but he was smiling so wide the dimples in his cheeks were distinguishable.

‘I love you too.’ 

[matt-skc-rp]

Summer Heat Wave|| Swiftimer AU Drabble

A/N: Shout out to my girl @suzydoozy, who's been working really hard all summer so I decided to surprise her with a drabble I wrote in the morning. Love you, boo! Keep going you got this!

Matt woke up early and flinched slightly at the cat Mochi sleeping on his chest. He gently moves the feline and slinks out of bed, shuffling to the bathroom to get his bearings and sneak a cigarette. Suzy's phone was still going off, although she was dead asleep from their late night. He creeped over and turned her phone off, which caused the girl to stir, putting a reassuring hand on her back and rubbing it, receiving a sleepy groan in response. He looks down and sees her notifications (even though he shouldn't) to see that Arin had called her and texted her all night. Her DND must turn off in the mornings.

He didn't pay it any mind anymore.

The two had been hooking up since the end of the last semester and she begged him to make sure nobody knew. It wasn't like Matt was in a relationship himself, but she even instructed him not to tell Kristen, which was different. He told her everything, even if it was nothing going on. Those planned occasions when they would go to a fancy restaurant and just spill the tea on their respective houses and plan their next attack on how to keep the campus as aesthetically pleasing as possible. It started so innocent: Suzy had been up late and wanted to stream a scary game, but didn't want to be alone. Arin was busy- well she thought he was busy because he wasn't answering his phone at all- and the girl thumbed over the other's contact, thinking that she might reneg and just ask her ex-roommate from Theta instead. But no. A few very brief messages later he showed up to Gamma, his lanky frame in his OG Twitch hoodie and some black jean shorts.

They sat together day after day playing games, eating, and just hanging out- their platonic touches falling away innocently for the thrill of fun and companionship. That's what they told each other. She remembered how she felt the day that she was standing in Theta with his hoodie draped over her and nothing much else, feeling more comfortable with him than Arin but not by much. She knew it was for the moment. She knew it was temporary. Matt is just so sweet and at times a little hard to figure out, but she really felt at home. She still doesn't remember what exactly got them to their lips touching in the still kitchen, the light from the windows shining on them. He had walked away that day.

Now she was sleeping in his bed, wearing his t-shirt with nothing on, fully satisfied after yet another late romp. Every morning she woke up in his room, she reveled in the smells of smoke and herbal air freshener. That gentle hand on her back as she stirred awake, his way of coaxing her to sleep in. He's so polite. He really cares even though he's not anything. Maybe that's what makes all of this so hard for her but so easy to fall into. She heard her phone ring and then stop, then the hand on her back, a light press of lips in her hair. She slept in her makeup again, but she couldn't help not caring about how she looked around the man. The girl stretched in the bed, moaning as Mochi stretched with her and climbed into her lap once she sat up. The girl pet and gave love to her kitty as she refused to look at her phone.

"You want breakfast?" Matt asked, closing the window but not shutting it as he put the butt in the ashtray. Suzy shakes her head as Mochi runs off to chase the shadow of the trees on the window, making the girl giggle lightly. "You wanna talk?" he asked, rubbing the back of his neck before stretching himself.

"What happened with you and Gabbie?" she asked simply, pulling her hair up into a ponytail.

"Eh, I mean we're still going, but she's just taking a lot of different directions. She went home before finals ended. Why?" he said, picking up his extra clothes from the floor before starting his pushups.

"Just curious..." she said, watching him and moving to the edge of the bed to see better.

"If you're wondering if I'm cheating, technically I am, but Gabbie isn't exactly in the headspace to worry about me right now, I'm actually glad I get a break from trying to understand somebody," he said with grunts as he pounded out each one, "I mean we're not super serious according to her, so I don't see the harm in test driving a few other ideas while she's not here."

"So...if she came back and wanted a relationship.." she started.

"I ask her if she's sure..then I'd be all for it. I still really like her, but I'm not running to go and be cuffed up since cuffing season is approaching, you know?" he replied.

"Wh-what would happen then?" she asked, playing with the helm of the t-shirt.

"What's with the questions?" he said, standing up and sitting on his knees after taking a breath.

"I dunno...guilt I guess," she said.

"You have nothing to be guilty about, at least I don't think so...Same with you, I'm not worried-"

"So what is this?" she blurts.

"What?" he asked after choking on his water, "What is what?"

"You know...this," she gesticulates, thrusting her hand back and forth.

"Fling. It's a summer fling. They're really popular this time of the year...Why are you so worried about it? Aren't you excited to have him to go back to?" he asked, sitting down in front of her.

"I mean...yeah, but..I really like the fling..I'm just saying," she began, not really sure how to finish.

"You can like the fling, but it's a fling. It's gonna end..and we'll go back to being friends or complete strangers, but I think that's the difficult part of that," he says, taking her hands, "For me, at least."

"Oh...well, do your planks," she giggled lightly, deflecting her feelings.

~~~

Suzy bit her lip, clicking through her chat and switching tabs to make sure OBS was recording, watching chat start just to roll in, she greeted her stream. It was supposed to be just a typical night for her. Some games, some ideas, some editing then she was going to bed.

Matt stood impatiently, checking around to see if anyone can see him, still checking his phone to make sure he wasn't getting any calls from his sister especially.

They embraced how they usually do, but tonight Suzy didn't let go. "Heyy, what's up?"

"N-Nothing..I just..I guessed I missed you," Suzy said, trying to hide the red flushing her cheeks. She backed away and showed him to her room. She walked on her tiptoes through the hall, hearing the faint noises of the other gamers in the house before getting to her door, decorated with cheap Halloween decorations with a little work done to make them scarier and aesthetically pleasing.

Matt shrugged off her response and followed behind her until they were at her door, the one with Halloween on it no matter the time of the year. He liked all the little things that were different about her, but still reminded him of Gabbie, like their love for dark themes. Suzy still was acting weird to him, but he passed it off as some hormonal thing or a mental episode and she just needed the company. He had just seen her a few days ago and she wasn't like this, but he never really took the time to know why she was even at the school in the first place save for a few traumatic experiences she shared that they bonded over.

Once they were in the room, Matt broke the silence, "Com'ere," he muttered, pulling her gently by the hand, which she allowed herself to turn around and shuffle towards the taller man, he picked her head up and gave a soft peck on her lips, wrapping his arms around her, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing-I...I dunno. I usually know," Suzy explained softly, not wanting to break the sound barrier of his embrace, "I barely made it through the stream..I guess I've been working too much."

"Maybe you need something to take your mind off..hm?...But I saw your stream, you did great despite how you felt," he said, pushing her hair from her eyes and lifted her head up by her chin. Suzy was already feeling better with the kiss, but the way he just cradles her and makes her feel like a little girl who just scraped her knee. She wanted him to buy her ice cream to match his sweetness.

"Were you busy? Is your sister gonna call tonight?" she asked, shifting her feet underneath.

"No..I told her I had a long night of editing to do from that road trip that I totally lied about. I'll tell her tomorrow that the files were corrupted..you know...stupid stuff just to get away from my phone...I wasn't doing anything when you called me," he replied, scoffing lightly with a smirk shifting with her. Maybe it was this that she missed: idle dumb conversation about how their lives were. Not planning how they were going to approach their fling with the utmost clandestine. "The real question is..why didn't you call Arin?" he asked, wasn't sure if he was allowed to.

"Wasn't picking up, and he isn't in his room, so I guess he's at a Grump session or he's playing games with his friends...but I guess you'll do," she joked, finally cracking a smirk.

"Sounds good to me, that's literally what I'm here for," he said at a regular volume, "It's just a matter of what we're gonna do now...feeling sexy? You want me to make you something to eat? To drink?"

Suzy looked up when he asked if she was feeling sexy, it rang in her ears that it would be the perfect distraction. She had ignored her thoughts all day and did everything she could to push the idea away in order to get more important things done and to just act like she was a developed person who could function without it. Guess she was wrong. "I-I do...feel..like I could use some..uhh..attention I guess..see how I feel.."

"Well...what do'ya want? Ball's in your court," he said, surprised that her first choice was sex, but he was the fling, of course they can have sex. That's the whole point. He was willing to do more, but maybe he needed to get some clarity and figure it out later. He let her go, kicking off his shoes and setting them by hers by the door, and sheds his jacket, setting it on her gaming chair before approaching her again.

"Uhh...I guess just the usual, just like...I dunno...go slower?" Suzy said, rubbing her arms and holding herself. Matt was confused and didn't feel the most comfortable. He took to grabbing her hand gently, kissing her fingers, which she quickly pulled back and made her giggle. She loved that when she asked him to go slow, it didn't dampen the mood at all.

"Take your clothes off...." he said after he pulled her into a hug, sliding his hands under her sweatshirt to help.

Suzy was already feeling better about having Matt over, even if the feelings weren't going away. His lips on her bare skin brought her goosebumps, drawing a soft hum from her throat. His hands caressing her waist to help her take her shorts off.

Once they fell to the floor, Suzy turned around to hide her front against his naked top and rough shorts. She liked looking up at him and seeing those kind eyes, ones that just felt like home away from home. His large beard that she had gotten lost in on many lazy afternoons, and probably would do it tonight if she had time.

She was focusing on his hands, where they would go next, how they would carry her into a descent to a place much more lovely and sweet- a place she was used to. She shuffled backwards, never breaking eye contact until she fell back onto her bed.

Matt grabbed a random pillow on her bed, stuffing it beneath his knees as he looked down at a blushing and anxious Suzy. He sat in his knees, still towering over her and gave her thighs a soft kneading rub down. He loved when she would relax into his touch and consumed every tentative noise she made. He wasted no time and adjusted his body lower, giving her flower cute long kisses before slowly nipping her thighs, bringing a satisfied him from her.

Suzy's legs were trembling as he massaged them, her mind still racing about Arin and Matt's hands and whether or not she fed Mochi. She felt his fingers pushing and curling so steadily and careful she felt so dirty and so free. Her hands didn't rush to grip anything just yet, she just laid her head back, letting her staggered breath and noises slip from her lips. His mouth moving just as slow on her folds made her jump a little, which she prompted him not to stop. She could feel her thoughts beginning to cloud as she thought of the first time he did this. The girl was a whole mess. She's learned to enjoy these moments. Nothing was stopping her now. The way he just knew to speed up just enough to bring her to the next level of her pleasure made Suzy wish she could live in the moment for a few days. Her legs open and seemingly small in Matt's hands, her flower wet and exposed, twitching at the outside stimulation. She was thinking of his kisses on her lips those days and nights when there wasn't much to do. The fireworks they watched and accidentally made out under. The way she came for him after an OnlyFans shoot and they laughed it off over lunch. The girl let out a long greedy moan, which caused him to change what his tongue was doing, sending her. She wanted to close her legs, her knees rising as he found the right spot and the perfect tempo. Her arousal becoming almost too much, she felt exposed s though they were being too loud in the library. She covered her mouth, feeling the pressure build and an orgasm on the horizon. He pushed her legs apart by moving up and looping his arm around one, and resting it on his shoulder, going back to his teasing now that she was locked in place. No turning back. Matt was always so focused- "once I start, I don't like stopping...I just want to warn you.. but let me know if you need a break or anything.."- he was so gentle and kind. She hadn't felt so seen, and cared after, as to say Arin didn't do his best all of the time. "Make me cum~" She whined, running her hand through his hair, "I'm ready..."

"You know that's not how you ask, but you look so good right now... so I'll give you a pass..." he brought his head up to say, thumbing over her swollen clit while he watched her plead from the slight edging. He smirked at her as he coaxed another edge. He enjoyed watching her writhe against his hold as though she might explode or fly away if he didn't have her. Suzy was spilling from the mouth after the seventh edge, begging and pleading to cum. It's the longest she's lasted since he introduced her to the idea. Ever since the first photoshoot he helped out for that had a happy ending like this one, Matt had been helping her to have better control over her sex. Giving her what she asked for and teaching her a few things along the way. She liked to say he owned her pussy for having such a keen idea on what she needs, but he always said that it's more like satisfying a girlfriend's family, and the pussy is the sister or the mother. He retracted his fingers making it the hardest edge yet, and stood up, wiping his hand on her bed, promoting her to get up by tapping her thigh. "Get into your favorite position," he said, taking his pants off in one go and avoided touching his bouncing cock. He watched as the girl got up slow, getting on her knees and reached out for his hand, which he took hers and moved him behind her, leaning back and letting him do the rest of the work of pushing in.

"Don't touch me anymore.." she started timidly, "Just choke me until I tap out...please.."

"You sure?" He asks, giving light thrusts to get her used to the size, holding her waist and kissing her neck and shoulder as he found a rhythm.

"Yes baby...I need you to make me cum as hard as I can..." she mentioned between slutty moans as he steadily raised his speed, creeping a hand between her breasts and gripping her throat just hard enough to limit airflow and allow her to talk. The girl became a need of loud moans and soft screams as her orgasms run through her body. Suzy burst with pleasure, Matt not halting his thrusts as he was instructed, her eyes rolling back as the results of Matt's hard work ran down her leg and splashed against the bed. Her embarrassment crept up as she tapped his hand gripping her neck and he released, allowing her to try and close her legs although she was still getting pounded with both of his hands on her thighs to keep her from falling. Her moans changed as he finally got her spot dead on and begged him not to stop, another orgasm washing over her.

"You like cumming like this don't you?" He asked, his voice gruff as he was nearing his own orgasm.

"Yes, yes I do... fuck I-I think I'm gonna cum again~" She gasped.

"That's right baby... cum for me... you're doing so good... you want me to cum too?" He asked already feeling it coming on.

"Fuck, fuck just cum fuck... please cum for me baby~," she moaned quickly.

Matt gripped her hips tighter as his orgasm rose and bubbled over, hearing Suzy's crying out, falling against his body and stroked slower until he was strong enough to pull away and allow both of them to fall back into bed, Suzy immediately cuddling up to him out of breath. They both shared a tired giggle fit before Mochi came up and rested on the foot of the bed mere inches away from the wet spot on the bed beneath their feet.

"Oh my god, Matt~... look what you made me do~"Suzy said, looking down.

"I ain't doing nothing, you were wet like that when I got here," he joked, pulling her close, kissing the top of her head, "You held out longer this time... you should call me to fix your attitude more."

"I don't think that's a good idea...I don't think I could do that everyday," she laughed.

"I bet you could... keep practicing like you have been," Matt said, shifting to sit up.

"I can't... everybody would notice-"

"Notice that you're in a better mood... you don't owe anyone an explanation..." he explained.

"I-i guess you're right.. but I just..I guess I'm self conscious about that... aren't you gonna smoke?" Suzy asked.

"Not in your room.. remember?" He replied, "Too much of a giveaway.."

"What are you gonna do after this?" She asked, tracing his chest.

"Eat something and get some sleep... figured I wasn't gonna stay long when you called me over... and speaking of calls...I think your phone rang while we were busy."

Suzy hadn't even given her phone a thought since Matt came through the door. She used her trembling legs to go to her desk and see that it was a missed call. From Arin. He left her a message and texted her that he was outside her door. Her heart sank into her chest. She felt so exposed and disgusting for letting him down.

[Text: ARIN] I HEAR SOMETHING STRANGE COMING FROM YOUR ROOM 👀👀👀

[Text: ARIN] Uhhh i think you're watching porn ill come back later lol

[Text: ARIN] Sorry for not getting back to you sooner I guess

[Text: ARIN] Have a good night, lovely! 🥰

"What's wrong?" Matt asked, trying to respectfully stare at her back, "Arin try to come by?"

"Yeah..." Suzy sighed as she still tried to figure out how to feel about nearly getting caught. It was more of the rush, the thrill of knowing he was being cucked and he didn't know it. And if she was going to compare experience, Matt had Arin beat for right now. Her mind danced about with the idea that although Arin was familiar and reminded her exactly of home, Matt made this place. This place was filled with their memories and every touch and sound that littered their dorm walls. His southern ways and the way he keeps to himself yet remains so kind and happy. She felt like he was a nice little treat she found while having another treat: Shawna. These thoughts and memories of Matt made it hard for her to concentrate on her work, and his touch made her melt faster than an ice cube in an oven.

"Yeah? Did you need to talk to him?" Matt asked, scratching his neckbeard, then smoothing it out.

"Pfft! No. He thinks i was watching porn-"

"You?.. watching porn?.. at full volume?" He asked, trying not to laugh as he put his boxers on, standing up and handing Suzy her shorts.

"I'm the only girl here. Of course, they think I'd be watching porn at full volume.. to them I'm always in my room or I'm doing something for someone else..or I'm going to class.. but since this whole lockdown and the moving, nobody's sure," she explained.

Matt understood and walked up with her shorts, "One thing I'm sure of is that it's past curfew and the doors are locked... so I can't get out until the morning," he looked at the stream setup on her desk and played with her keyboard, accidentally waking up the desktop.

Suzy took her shorts and slid them on, then realized something, "Matt."

"Yes, darling?"

He killed her when he said that. He was so cool and sexy with his words, it matched his touch.

"Where are my panties?" She asked biting her lip, she turned to him.

"Answer my question first," he replied with a dark smirk, "You on birth control?"

"I'm fine...I take care of all of that, so just know before you get here, there's a lot of work being done to keep me safe," she said proudly.

"Safe and not pregnant are two different things at this school. Yeah nobody's passing around chlamydia, but girls do get pregnant around here... that's what I was told," Matt said wrapping his arms around her exposed midsection and rocking her back and forth. Suzy was so welcoming to the touch but it made her nervous that he was trying to lead onto something. He wasn't suggesting that she gets pregnant, but that he's noticed it hasn't been a concern for her.

"You believe everyone who tells you something? Especially here?" She leaned against him, absorbing his scent.

"Not always but I feel like you getting pregnant would draw a lot of attention to you that you're not ready for-"

"I'm not stupid, Matt. I may be sick sometimes, but I wouldn't risk everything because I didn't take my pill," she bit back, she didn't mean to be so aggressive, but he gave her confidence she never knew she had, "I should make you shower for coming in from the outside, putting me at risk like this."

"Oh trust me, I have condoms, but you've never brought it up and you told me yourself you're not quite worried..I just never asked what you were doing on your end," Matt said kissing her neck.

It did surprise her how this little funny fake fight to so long to happen. The fact that he was able to bring her to reality, without ruining anything. The kisses on her neck gave her goosebumps, and she could feel his hands hold her waist, then turn her around as she placed her phone back on her desk. She faced him and allowed herself to be pulled into another kiss before he walked away, and she just wanted to pull him back in.

"Answer my question," Suzy said, trying to keep her composure.

"Ask away sweetheart," he said, grabbing his phone to answer a text message.

"Where did my panties go?" she asked again, "I remember having them when we started and they seem to have not only disappeared...they're not even in the place that they originally were."

"You want them back? Why do you want them so badly?" Matt asked.

Suzy thought for a second, "What? I need to earn them back?" she couldn't help the smirk on her lips.

"You might have to, but you can just ask me much nicer than that...I like how you look with no panties- is that a crime?" Matt mentioned, finding the remote and turning the TV on.

"No, but they are mine..and I don't want to find them tomorrow after you leave," Suzy said, "They belong in a hamper."

"If you crawl up here and ask as nicely as you can, then I'll tell you."

Suzy folded her arms and pouted, "I gotta suck your dick too?"

"Nope. Just ask me. I think we're past the sex portion of my visit," Matt grinned, throwing his hands behind his head, "Come on, you can do it.."

Suzy sighed as she trying not to laugh. He was a goofball when he wanted to be, and it was always so much fun to indulge. She sauntered over to the foot of the bed, straddling his legs, and did a sultry crawl up his lanky body, feeling his eyes following her. She didn't break eye contact and was feeling so dirty as he devoured her figure. "Matthew," she asked with a much lighter and cuter voice.

"Yes, pumpkin?" he asked, cupping a hand on her face and caressing her cheek with his thumb.

"Can I please have my panties back...sir?" she sat up on her knees.

Matt smirked, trying not to laugh at how committed they were to their jokes and fun. He took in her body before him, every curve softened by the low stream lights in the room. Her aesthetic made him want to take pictures and short clips of her movements. He wanted to study her as a muse. He bit his lip as he gave her one more glance, "They're under the bed, in one of your shoes..I think it's your chucks."

The girl sat back with a look of disbelief, "Seriously?..How'd they get in there?" she dropped her voice act and sat on his legs.

"I put them there. You're too busy getting head to watch me stuff them in there..but then I stuffed you so I think it's even-"

"That is not even!" she laughed, pushing his chest playfully.

"You don't think so?" he laughed back.

"No~ you're not allowed to use sex as a veil of mischief. That's super sneaky.."

"I was in here- you snuck me in here- right? Your dude comes looking for you and he thinks you're watching porn..and you're gonna let him believe that and you're telling me that I'm sneaky..you have no grounds to tell me that I'm being sneaky. I'm trapped here until morning because of you-"

"Well the window's right there! You're welcome to leave anytime you want," Suzy said, picking up a pillow and hitting him with it.

"Ah~ now you're abusing me..get off me!" Matt tried to dodge her strike but took the soft hit.

"No I will not get off you," Suzy said, "Not until you take it back."

"You can ride my dick, I'm not taking it back..I call them like I see them," Matt folded his arms.

"In your dreams, Matthew Brian," she said, "You're sneaky too."

"I'm only sneaky because everyone in this house wants my head on a spit. You just want extra attention," Matt said, placing his hands on her thighs, which sent a shock through her, "Such a shame, too..You're already not wearing panties-"

"Because you told me to take them off!"

"Because you sent me a text."

"That's not important. If you were doing anything you would have come over anyway."

"I'll come over for you," he said sweetly. Suzy's heart couldn't handle him sometimes and cursed him for being so sweet and just being a general-

"You're a boob," she said trying to contain her big smile and a blush.

"Aww I think someone liked what I said~" he teased her.

"It's not..what you said..It's how you said it..." she whined.

[yeet-me-dad-dy]

Bring Me the Horizon

Summary: You break Yancy out of prison for the night and take him into the city.

Characters: Yancy x Reader

Words: 4,591

Warnings: Swearing, kissing

Masterlist

You didn’t come for visitation on Sunday.

You didn’t come the last third Sunday either. Or the Sunday before that. Or the Sunday before that. Or-

Yancy was disappointed, of course, but he wasn’t surprised.

No.

He wasn’t surprised.

It was late, a couple of hours past lights out, and Yancy was laying on his back on the top bunk staring blankly at the ceiling. He had cried. He had cried the first month, and the month after that, and the month after that, too, but now he had no more tears left. He had no more disappointment, no more sorrow, no more self-loathing… There was nothing.

He felt nothing.

So he stared.

He stared at the ceiling, eyes burning from lack of blinking, his mind as blank as the concrete above his head. He sucked in a deep breath, not realizing that he hadn’t been breathing, and closed his eyes tight to allow them to rest for a moment. It was then, through the sounds of his snoring neighbors and them shuffling in their beds, that he heard a clink - the sound of something metallic on concrete.

He sat up in his bunk, brow furrowed, and looked around his cell. It was dark, so there wasn’t much to see, but Yancy knew something had happened. The sound was close. Whatever it was, it was in here with him. 

Cautiously, he peered over the edge of the bunk and scanned the tiny room. His eyes had long since adjusted to the dark, so when he didn’t see anything obviously threatening, he swung his legs over and jumped down. He flicked on the lamp on the small, round table in the corner. The gleam of metal near his cell door caught his eye, and he approached it curiously, kneeling down to get a closer look.

It was a key.

He picked it up and returned to his table, using the light from the lamp to see better. He turned the key over in his hand, studying it.

It looked old - antique. It was made of a plain, grey metal, and the key itself wasn’t fancy or ornate. It only had two teeth that connected in a U shape, and the top was a half circle with connecting bars, almost like spokes on a bike wheel.

Attached to the key via some string was a small, faded tag. Yancy flipped the tag over to see writing on the other side.

Meet me at the gate.

“The hell…” Yancy mumbled, brows drawn together in confusion and curiosity. 

He looked to his cell door, locked tight for the night, and then back to the key. His head cocked to the side as he rose from his chair, careful not to let the metal legs screech on the floor, and strode to the door.

“There’s no way…” Yancy thought as he turned the key over and over in his fingers. “I don’t even know whos this key is from… I could be gettin’ myself into huge trouble here…”

Despite his pessimistic inner dialogue, Yancy peeked out of his cell, down the long, dark hallway. There was no one in sight, there usually wasn’t. The guards don’t patrol very well, even at night; they have no need to with how well behaved the prisoners are.

Yancy took the key in hand and wiggled his arm through the bars. It took a moment, what with being unable to see the lock from his side of the door, but he finally got the key into the lock. He took a deep breath… and turned it.

The lock opened with a click.

“Youse gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me,” Yancy mumbled to himself, disbelieving.

Slowly, carefully, and as quiet as he possibly could, he opened the cell door just enough to allow him to squeeze his body through and peer down the hall in either direction.

Still dark.

Still quiet.

Yancy shook his head, biting his lower lip. This was stupid. He was being stupid.

Regardless, he ducked back into his cell and quickly pulled his shoes and a shirt on.

Once he was dressed and took a short moment to steel himself, he stepped out into the hall and shut his cell door behind him. He snatched the key out of the lock and held it tightly in his hand so as not to lose it as he quickly made his way down the hall to a narrow opening between the end of the cells and the showers that would lead him through the prison and out to the yard without anyone noticing him.

It was a clear night, the moon shining brightly down and lighting up the yard, stars twinkling mischievously overhead in the dark abyss that was the night sky. Yancy wrapped his arms around himself; it was a cool night, and there was a breeze that made goosebumps rise on his arms. He shivered as he stepped out into the open, looking around to make sure he was alone. He took a step toward the gate in the distance, and then another. He didn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean that no one was there.

Cautiously, he came to the gate, stopping a few feet away so that he didn’t get grabbed through the bars by some unsavory character pulling a mean trick on him.

“Hello?” he called out quietly, leaning ever so slightly forward to try and see or hear someone or something past the prison wall.

When there is no answer, Yancy takes a tentative step forward and calls again. “Hello? Anyone there?”

He can hear shuffling, and then a familiar voice reaches his ears, quiet and cautious.

“Yancy? That you?”

His face splits into a grin and he rushes to the gate, wrapping his fingers around the bars, the key still clutched in one palm.

“Y/N!?” he asks excitedly.

You step out of the shadows and into the light of the moon where he can see you and he can’t help the sob that escapes his throat, nor the tears that stream down his face.

“Youse came!” he cries.

You chuckle and step up to the bars, resting your hands over his. 

“I did. And I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner. Visitation didn’t seem like a good idea, what with me having just broken out and everything… I didn’t want to risk being caught, so… I decided to set up this little meeting instead.”

Yancy’s grin nearly splits his face and he chokes back another happy sob, unable to say anything.

“Hey, you got the key?” you ask.

Yancy sniffles and nods, offering you the key through the bars.

Your fingers brush his when you take it and Yancy’s heart jumps in his chest.

“Awesome. I’ve got something great planned for tonight. C’mon.”

The prisoner was only confused for a moment until you used the key to unlock the gate and swing it open, leaving him free to exit the prison.

He hesitates, hugging himself again. “Oh, uh… I dunno, Y/N. I told youse, I don’t wanna be free, remember?”

You smile and nod. “I remember. I’m not freeing you, I’m just… taking you on a little field trip. You’ll be back by morning and no one will even know you were gone. I promise.”

Still, he hesitates, taking the tiniest step forward and looking past you out into the free world. 

“I dunno…” he mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

You dart forward and grab his wrist, pulling him through the gate and into your chest. 

“Well, I do know,” you say, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Come on.”

You don’t give him a chance to argue further as you drag him along behind you, parallel to the wall and around the side of the prison, where Yancy sees a sleek black car waiting in the barren field. He wouldn’t have seen it at all if it weren’t for the light of the moon gleaming off of the dark metal, or the snow that had just begun to fall sticking to the car’s frame.

You let Yancy go when you reached the vehicle and opened the trunk. You rummaged around for a moment before you returned to his side with a warm flannel and dark denim coat, some faded black jeans, and a pair of black boots.

“You can’t go out like that, so I brought you some stuff to change into. Put the pants on now, you can get the boots on in the car.”

Yancy took the jeans from you, but hesitated. “Youse sure about this?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged the corners of your lips up. “We don’t have time for you to be uncertain, Yance. C’mon.” You clapped him on the shoulder before you went around to the other side of the car and leaned back against the driver’s door. “Get those jeans on!” you called to him.

Yancy let out a deep sigh. “Guess I’m doin’ this…” he muttered to himself as he set the jeans on the top of the car, stripped his shoes off, and then pulled his striped prisoner’s pants down. He tried not to squeal from the sudden blast of cold air on his legs as he stepped out of the pants and traded them for the jeans. Yancy wasn’t going to ask how you knew his size…

“Alright. Done,” he called to you as he wrapped his shoes up in his old pants and strode around the back of the car to the trunk.

You appeared next to him as he set them inside and then closed the trunk after him.

“Sweet, you can get these on while I drive,” you said, handing him the black boots and then practically jogging back to the driver’s door, which you wrenched open to then duck behind the wheel.

“Come on!” you called.

Yancy shook his head and made his way back around the car, trying to ignore the dampness in his socks from the fresh snow sticking to the dirty ground. He hopped into the passenger’s seat and started on the boots, jolting when you took off at full speed, peeling out of the field and away from the prison, headed to the highway that would take you and Yancy into town. 

“So, uh… Where we’s goin’?” the prisoner asked as he pulled a boot on.

You grinned in reply. “Can’t tell you, that’ll spoil the surprise.”

“Right…”

You glanced over at him. “Oh, come on, Yance, don’t be like that. You can trust me.”

“I-” He wanted to argue. Could he trust you? How well did he even know you? He met you in prison after you’d robbed a museum, and you hadn’t mentioned your partner in crime even once. Did you even care about the fact that he had been punched through a brick wall? Yancy felt sure, deep down, that he was making a terrible mistake… but there was also a glimmer of something else… A feeling he couldn’t quite recognize, not yet, at least.

He was grateful when you turned the heat on full blast. He hadn’t put the coat on yet and the temperature was rapidly falling, the snow coming down thick and wet from a sky blanketed in dark clouds. Where had the crystal clear night gone? He wasn’t sure, but he did have to admit that there was something very pleasing about snow. He liked the sense of calm it brought with it. The sense of peace.

His nervousness returned once you drove into the city.

“So, uh… I know youse said it was a surprise, but can you at least give me a hint? Where we goin’?”

You smirked. “Somewhere quiet,” you replied. “There won’t be any other people, and it’s outside.”

“Oh. Okay…”

That didn’t help calm his nerves. You were taking him far away from the prison, far away from his family and anyone who cared about him, far away from anyone who would miss him. He chuckled nervously.

“Somewhere outside with no people… What, youse plannin’ on murderin’ me, Y/N?”

You laughed and shook your head. “No! I’m not gonna murder you! It’s nothing bad, I promise. You’ll love it, I hope. I always do.”

“Oh, so youse done this before?” 

“Once or twice, but never with anyone else. I always go alone.”

Yancy raised an eyebrow. “If youse like to go alone, then why youse takin’ me?”

Your grin dropped into a soft smile and he could see a glimmer of what he thought was sadness behind your eyes.

You shrugged. “It’s not that I like to go alone…” you said. “It’s just that I’ve never had anyone to do this with before.”

His heart twisted at that, in either sympathy for you or happiness for himself, knowing that he was the only person you’d ever done this with before. 

The drive was finished in comfortable silence, with only the radio playing softly to fill the space between you two. You’d reached a section of the city that was always very barren this time of night. It was a long street of various locally owned stores that all closed around 6pm. At the end of the street, however, was a large, flat plot of land surrounded by tall chain-link fencing. Tall structures reached up into the sky with smaller ones between them.

“The hell…” Yancy whispered, mostly to himself, as he gazed out the windshield.

You simply smiled in response as you drove closer and your headlights lit up a wide wooden archway with a banner hanging horizontally across the top.

Yancy shook his head and smiled as you drove beneath the archway and veered left, into a large, empty parking lot. 

“C’mon,” you said as you hopped out of the car.

Yancy glanced apprehensively at the dark amusement park as he exited the vehicle.

“Youse sure we’s allowed to be here?” he asked as you came around to his side with the coat in your arms.

“‘Course,” you replied with a smile and handed him the bundle. “Put it on so you don’t freeze,” you ordered as you began the walk toward the inner gate.

He puled the coat on and jogged to catch up with you.

“Anyone ever tell ya that youse is terrible at reassurin’ people?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, actually.”

“What are we doin’ here?” the prisoner asked, sticking close to your side, anxiety welling up in his stomach as he followed you past the ticket stand and into the amusement park proper. It was dark, with not even a street light to help illuminate your way, and the hidden moon wasn’t much help where it sat behind the thick clouds. The snow was coming down heavily and a good inch or two had already gathered on the pavement. The crunch it made as you walked over it was deafening in the silence of the night, and Yancy was scared to do so much as breathe for fear that you’d both be caught.

“I’m serious, Y/N.” Yancy grabbed your arm and whirled you around to face him. “Tell me what we’s doin’ here,” he commanded, brow furrowed and voice stern.

Your surprise at being stopped was replaced with a soft smile that Yancy could barely see through the shadows. “It’s only a tiny bit farther, Yance. I don’t want to tell you or it’ll ruin the surprise, but I promise you, we’re not going to get in trouble. I do this all the time, remember? It’s okay.”

Yancy shook his head, causing what snow that had gathered in his hair to jump free and float down to the ground with the rest. “Doin’ it all the time isn’t the same as it bein’ okay.”

He was caught off guard when you reached a hand up to trail ghosting fingers along his beard. “It is okay. I know the owners, Yancy. You know how I said that I’ve been setting this whole thing up for a while? This is one of the things.” You gestured around you. “I was getting permission to bring you here.”

“R-really?” the prisoner asked, hopeful.

“Really really. Pinky promise.” You held your pinky up and he interlocked his with yours. You both laughed. “Now come on.” You took Yancy’s hand in yours and led him to a building off to the side of the park. Your hand was warm in his, and he couldn’t stop the smile that found its way onto his lips at the feeling.

“Alright,” you said as you came to the doors of the small brick building.

You spun the prisoner around so he was facing the park.

“You wait right here. I’ll be back in two shakes.”

Before he could protest, you were gone through the doors, into the darkness of the building. Yancy stuffed his hands into his pockets and hunched his shoulders to ward off the cold as he waited. You were gone for what felt like an eternity, and he was starting to become worried. He was contemplating going in and trying to find you just as the world lit up around him. 

He noticed the carousel first, shining brightly against the black backdrop of the cloudy night sky. The lights glinted off of the falling snow, bathing each flake in a different color as they fell around him. Some were blue, some red, others green or purple or orange. Yancy was sure he looked like a kitten seeing a Christmas tree for the first time - his eyes were wide open, a huge grin across his face as he took in the sight of the park before him.

“What do you think?”

Yancy turned to see you emerge from the building, your grin mimicking his own.

“It’s…” he looked once more at the lights. He couldn’t find the words. “It’s beautiful,” he finally sighed after a moment of contemplation.

“I’m glad you like it,” you said softly, stepping up beside him and intertwining your fingers with his once more. “Come on, let’s go ride a ride.”

You and Yancy spent hours riding all of the rides. There was a spaceship that spun around really fast and sucked you onto the wall, a dragon that you sat in the belly of and it spun around really fast, roller coasters, bumper cars, a couple that went upside down, one that went up really high and then dropped you. You even convinced Yancy to go on The Power, a huge arm that reached high up into the sky with chairs attached to the end that left your feet dangling in the air at the very top and almost ripped them off as it came swinging down and around. He wasn’t a fan, but he loved the peals of laughter and excited cheering you let out.

He stumbled out of the chair and off the ride’s platform to collapse in the snow. He rolled over onto his back, giggling happily as he gazed up at the sky. 

“You gonna live?” you asked, your face appearing in his line of vision.

“If I don’t throw up everywhere first, yeah,” he laughed.

He took your hand when you offered it and helped him to his feet. You looked at your watch.

“Perfect, we’ve still got time. How about a snack and a ride on the ferris wheel?” you asked and he nodded. 

You led him to a food truck and left him waiting outside while you stepped in. He could feel the warm air rush out past you and he breathed in the mouth-watering scent of fried dough that came with it. After only a moment, you stepped down out of the truck and handed him a plate of fried dough sprinkled with powdered sugar and cinnamon.

“A funnel cake!?” Yancy gasped, his face lighting up as he took the treat. “I ain’t had one ‘a these in ages!”

The bottom of the paper plate was warm and it felt good on his cold hand as he pinched a piece of the cake to break it off. He popped it into his mouth and moaned as the flavors washed over his tongue - flavors that he hadn’t tasted since before he went to prison.

“Don’t have a foodgasm,” you said with a chuckle and a pat to his shoulder. “Come on. One last ride.”

He happily munched his snack as you and he approached the ferris wheel. You held the door to the pod open for him and he stepped inside to sit on the cold plastic seat within. You sat across from him and a few moments later  the ride began to move, carrying you both slowly upward.

Yancy gazed out over the amusement park to the city below, bathed in a blanket of white and a warm orange glow from the houses beyond. Suddenly, he was choking back tears, and he did his best to hide this fact by stuffing his face with more funnel cake.

“Hey…” He feels your hand on his knee. “You okay?”

He nods, but can’t bring himself to look at you for fear of losing himself completely. “It’s just uh…” He clears his throat. “It’s just the powdered sugar. It… it got in my eyes a little bit.”

You switched seats, coming across the ferris wheel car to sit next to him with your shoulder against his.

The car stopped, right at the top.

You gave him a gentle nudge. “It’s okay to cry.”

He sniffles and shifts in his seat so that his body is angled toward you. A single tear wells over and runs down his cheek, hot against the cold winter night air. His funnel cake lies forgotten in his lap as he shakes his head and then gazes at you tenderly.

“I just… I never expected… I feel… so full,” he explained. “My heart feels like it’s about to burst outta my chest.” He chuckles dryly. “I’m so used to life in prison, that I just… I guess I forgot how beautiful it can be out here…”

He looks once more across the city skyline as another tear falls and rolls down his cheek. “Up here…” his gaze finds your face again. “With youse… It almost feels like… like maybe… maybe the world ain't really so bad…”

A soft smile finds your lips and then you’re pressing them to his, cupping his face in your hands and using your thumbs to brush away the tears. Yancy’s funnel cake fell to the floor of the car, forgotten, as one of his hands found your waist and the other tangled in your hair.

He was hesitant at first, moving his lips slowly against yours, unsure of himself and his actions. When you didn’t pull away from him and instead deepened the kiss, he allowed himself to relax into you, kissing you back passionately, desperately. He felt hot, despite the frigid air swirling snowflakes around him. He wanted to stay like this forever, but you broke the kiss to pull in a deep breath. You rested your forehead against his, and your hot breath ghosted over his face, smelling of something warm like cinnamon and vanilla, or perhaps sugar cookies. It made him want to dive back in and spend the rest of the night with his lips pressed against yours at the top of this ferris wheel…

“It’s almost dawn,” you said, voice low.

His reply was a simple whine that voiced his discontent at the prospect of ending this moment - ending this night - and having to go back to his dingy prison cell. The ride began to move again and you pulled away from him, closed your eyes, and sucked in a deep breath of cold air. Yancy found himself doing the same to calm his nerves and cool his body. 

Not another word was spoken as he followed you off of the ferris wheel and back to your car. The only sound was the crunch of snow beneath your feet and then the engine of the car and the blast of hot air from the vents. The radio was on quietly, just as it had been before, but Yancy couldn’t hear it over the thoughts in his head. He couldn’t even think over the thoughts in his head, and before he knew it, you were pulling the car off the road and into the field next to the prison, now covered in a thick blanket of white.

He stopped you as you began to unbuckle.

“I can get back on my own,” he said, perhaps a bit too quickly. “We don’t wanna risk youse bein’ seen.”

You nodded reluctantly, and Yancy gave you a smile. In truth, he needed to get away from you before he had a nervous breakdown. This night had turned his entire world upside down, causing him to question everything he thought he knew. He was feeling too many emotions to try and process at one time.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said before he opened the car door and stepped once more into the cold.

The trunk popped open and he made his way around to the back of the car to retrieve his prison clothes. He heard your window roll down.

“Yancy,” you called, and then your hand poked out of the window, holding the key. “You should hold onto this. Y’know… just in case.”

He closed the trunk and approached you. Hesitantly, he took the key.

“Thanks again,” he said quietly, and you nodded.

Then, he began the walk back into the prison. He got about halfway to the wall when he stopped and turned around. He could see your reflection in the side mirror, watching him sadly. He tried to offer you one last convincing smile paired with a small wave before he took in a deep breath and continued the trek through the snow.

He used the key to get back into the prison yard, but he didn’t go back to his cell. He didn’t want to… not just yet. Instead, he headed for the roof. 

He closed the roof access door quietly behind him and then found himself a spot in the snow to sit down, cross-legged, facing east. 

“I don’t wanna be free,” he sang quietly. “Of these amenities…”

He used his foot to clear away the snow before he sat.

“Why try a prison break…”

He gazed at the horizon, the sky slowly growing more pale with each passing moment.

“When hard time’s totally great…”

A rich orange seeped up from below the horizon and bled into the sky.

“I don’t wanna be free…”

It was soon followed by pale yellow, and then the first rays of the sun itself. The clouds turned purple, the sky a light blue.

“I don’t wanna be free…”

Yancy wrapped his arms around himself.

“I don’t wanna be free…”

The roof access door opened.

“Yancy?” It was Holt, the guard.

“I don’t wanna be free…”

“I don’t know how you got out here, but you’re gonna have to come with me back to your cell.”

“I don’t wanna be free…”

Yancy felt a hand on his arm, and then he was being pulled to his feet.

I don’t wanna be free…

Holt lead him through the snow to the door and pulled it open.

I don’t wanna be free…

He ushered Yancy inside, and it was when the cold metal closed behind him that he broke into sobs with only one agonizing thought running through his mind.

I want to be free.

[harryhooksgazebos267]

Shadow~ Part 1

Paring: Stray Kids x Reader; Possible romantic interest in the future 👀 (there are also multiple groups involved in this story)

Genre: Interactive murder mystery

Warnings: Cursing, death (in some chapters)

MASTERLIST

Friday, September 25th~

It had been about a month since school had started. Nothing much had changed, it was the same bullshit every year. Crappy teachers who didn’t care about your education, the same curriculum repeated over and over again. The year had just started yet it was already extremely boring. You lived in District 9, a place that had nothing going for it. Occasionally there would be some juicy tea but other than that, life was ultimately dull. Little did you know how much your life was about to be altered.

“Y/n!” You heard an oddly cheery voice call out to you as you were walking down the hallway. Turning around, you were met with the huge grin of Na Jaemin who had a big cup of, what you assumed to be, coffee.

“How the hell can you be so awake at 7 am?” You questioned as the two of you fell in step with each other.

“Six shots of espresso baby.”

“Makes sense,” you reply with a shrug.

“Hey did you hear about the party that’s going on tonight?” Jaemin questioned.

“Party? Who the hell lied to you? You know damn well high school parties only happen in movies.”

“That’s not true!” Jaemin argued with a slight pout.

“Okay name one party you’ve been to since we’ve been high school?”

Jaemin stayed silent.

“My point exactly, where did you even hear that from?” You asked as you enter your first class.

“I heard some kids talking about it, I could have heard them wrong.”

You gave him a slight nod as you walked to your seat. A smile formed on your face as you sat down. Surprisingly, your teacher was pretty chill so he let you pick your own seats. Naturally, you sat with your friends. Your little “squad” for first period was made up of Jaemin, Rosé, Chan, Yunho, Hyunjin, and Minnie.

“Ah the two princesses decided to show up!” Hyunjin sassily stated giving Jaemin and you a playful glare.

“In my defense I would have been here earlier if y/n wasn’t such a slow poke.”

“Umm excuse me sir, we were walking at the same pace and you literally got here later than me.”

“How does the defendant plead?” Chan questioned Jaemin.

“Not guilty!”

“Your honor, my client has done nothing wrong. We all know that y/n is always late and tends to drag her feet. It’s appalling to me that we are even here in court today,” Yunho said standing up and putting on fake glasses out of nowhere.

“Objection! You have no proof of these accusations,” Rosé said as she wrapped her arms around your shoulders in a protective manner causing you to laugh.

“Overruled, continue.”

“Your honor if I may, I would like to call one of the witnesses to the stand,” Yunho stated.

“You may,” Chan responded, leaning back in his chair.

“I would like to call Minnie to the stand.”

“Minnie wasn’t even there!” You pointed out.

“Yes she was, and she saw that you’re the reason we arrived later than usual,” Jaemin sassed back.

“If I didn’t see her then you sure as hell didn’t! It doesn’t even make any sense, she got to class before us” You countered.

“Fake news, you’re just blind.”

“At least I don’t have to lie to prove that I’m not guilty!”

“You’re not even the one on trail, no one needs you to prove you’re not guilty!”

“So I’m not guilty then? Therefore you agree that I didn’t make you late.”

“That’s definitely not what I’m saying!”

“Order in the court! Order in the court! We will come back together with my verdict after an hour and a half recess because class is starting.”

And with that, you all settled down and turned your attention to your teacher, Mr. Kim. Class went by slower than usual, as it tends to do on Fridays. It didn’t help that today’s lesson happened to be even more boring and confusing than usually. Hey, anything beats taking a test though.

“That’s it for today class. We have a couple minutes before the bell will ring so feel free to talk amongst yourselves.”

Letting out a sigh, you quickly packed up your stuff.

“So Chan, have you reached your verdict?” Hyunjin asked as he also started to pack his belongings.

Chan began to act as though he was thinking very hard before nodding his head yes.

“I hear by find Jaemin guilty of all crimes he has been accused of. This conclusion should not be surprising considering the fact that I fancy y/n more.”

Jaemin let out a hurt gasp as he yeeted Chan out of his seat.

“Someone get this man out of my court!” Chan screeched causing everyone to laugh.

Walking over to him, you stuck your arm out and pull him up to his feet. As Chan opened his mouth to say something, the bell rung. Yunho and Jaemin quickly stood up and raced out of the door, like they did everyday, trying to beat the other one to second block. Rosé and Minnie laughed before saying their goodbyes as they exit the room, leaving Chan, Hyunjin, and you.

“The guys are gonna hangout after school, are you coming?” Chan asked as he rested his arms around your shoulders as the three of you exit your classroom.

“Is that even a question? Of course I am!”

“Chan she’s literally has no other friends and she’s one of the boys. Of course she’s coming,” Hyunjin stated with an eye roll causing you to hit him lightly on his chest.

“I have a lot of friends and you know it!”

The three of you made it to your second block pretty quickly and took your seats. Hyunjin and you luckly sat together at the back of the classroom while Chan sat at the front. He was still salty about the fact that the two of you got to sit together but he’d get over it.

“Hey did you hear about a party?” You asked Hyunjin as you pulled out your notebooks.

“Party?” He questioned with a confused face as you gave him a little nod.

“No, this is the first I’m hearing about a party. Why do you ask?”

“Jaemin said he heard a rumor that there was gonna be a party. I figured there isn’t gonna be one but I thought I’d ask,” You said with a light shrug.

The rest of the day, much like first period, went by slow. To say you were excited for school to be over would be an understatement. The week had felt extremely long and you were just ready to have fun with your friends and relax.

“Y/n!” You heard Chan call out to you as you exited the school building. He was standing on the grass with Jisung and Changbin. All three of them gave you a little smile as you walked towards them.

“What’s up!”

“Do you want a ride over to my place or are you gonna go home first?” Chan asked as he pulled his keys out of his book bag.

“I’ll take a ride as long as Jisung isn’t gonna control the music this time.”

“How dare you!” Jisung gasped.

“I’m with y/n on this one,” Changbin piped in.

“Changbin not you too! Chan?”

Chan just gave him a little shrug causing Jisung to burst into fake tears.

“I thought there was one fake hoe in this friend group, turns out I’m surrounded by them.”

“Shut up,” you laughed out as you all walked to Chan’s car.

Jisung and you sat in the back as Chan drove with Changbin in the passengers seat. The four of you were singing your hearts out to You Were Beautiful by DAY6 when you felt your phone vibrate. Looking down, you saw that you had gotten a text from Jaemin.

Nana ☕️💅

Hey! A few of us are gonna hangout tonight, do you wanna come? I can pick you up 👀

Looking down at your phone you contemplate what you should do. On one hand, you already said you would hang out with the bOiZ but on the other hand, you always hung out with them and you were sure it wouldn’t kill them if you decided to flake just this once. Or maybe you could do both? Just chill with your friends then meet up with Jaemin. After contemplating for a second, you decided to:

A.) Text Jaemin and tell him you can’t since you already made plans

B.) Put in a rain check with your friends and text Jaemin telling him you’ll hang with him

C.) Do both and text Jaemin that you’ll meet him later on and to text you the location

Vote here! (If you’re confused please go to the masterlist and click explanation)

A/n: Sorry if this part was boring but I just had to set it up a litttttle before the story gets juicy

MASTERLIST

Tag list (feel free to ask to be added on the list or if you want me to send you a dm everytime I update): @0leelina0 @emotionalgirl101 @rose-and-the-tea @yup-indecisive-girl-cece @1-800-moatinyghase

Tags that aren’t working :( @linxiu405 @merrymeleoxxiu

[cryptidhill]

IMRE

Synopsis

Life was simple for Arabella Imre, a young witch with the tendency to feed homeless creatures at night. Then it wasn’t.

Check out my Archive of Our Own page!

Keep reading for Chapter One

Chapter One

It was another chilly winter night that left the windows fogged from the inside out, frosty on one end but steamy on the other, and the heat that circulated throughout each room had made its rounds to that of Arabella, a thin girl of small stature who lay in her bed with a decorative looking book in her hands. Propped up on her elbow, her eyes danced along each line of words as her warm, fleshy hands caressed the smooth leather cover of the novel. A bedside lamp on the desk nearby provided a gentle, warm light that enveloped her and illuminated her pale beige bedroom walls. It was a peaceful feeling, almost euphoric, and it kind of reminded her of memories of staying warm by the fireplace downstairs as a young child. She could almost smell the sweet, grassy aroma of her aunt’s renowned herbal tea. Witches from all over their small forested community knew of Aunt Willow’s homemade beverages and potions. Imre’s Elixirs was practically a household name.

Their warm cottage rivaled the brisk, biting coldness of the winter season rearing its ugly head outside. Fresh, powdery white snow covered the frozen ground from the storm that had rolled in and out within an hour or two earlier that day, and though there was something beautifully romantic about the purple sky and silence it brought with it, Arabella always felt something eerily off about the winter storms.

The book she was reading was really starting to strike her fancy. She hadn’t expected to like it so much, seeing as it had been a gift from Aunt Willow after a trip down to Barnaby’s Books and Trinkets, but it was growing on her. It was a story about a young witch on a journey to find herself, and it was written in the language that most witches used when speaking to each other — a formal language often referred to as Scireic that had been developed by one of the first witches many eras ago. Though it wasn’t common for modern witches to interact with creatures outside of their covens, on the occasion that it did happen English was their next go-to. In spite of this, some older generations of witches knew little to no English and chose to keep to their covens with no interest of associating themselves with any foreign creatures. As a kid, Aunt Willow had taught Arabella to leave it be. She’d always been the daring type, to her aunt’s dismay, but if there was one thing she wasn’t ever going to test it was tradition.

Arabella’s dive into witchy fantasy was interrupted by a curt tap on her windowpane. The girl looked up from her book and over at her windowsill. No longer was the bright, blue moon glaring down at her exposed room and lighting up her wooden floor with fluorescent, natural light like it had been only moments earlier, as now there sat a lumpy looking shadow in its path of trajectory. Her porcelain skin that had been blue in the light of the vibrant moon was now only yellow in the light of her bedside lamp. She set down her book of reverie and swung her legs over the side of her bed. Getting to her feet, Arabella felt the cold wood under her toes and brought herself over to the windowsill. Pulling back the curtains of lavender lace, the girl breathed a sigh and twisted the lock to push open the pane of glass. “Come on,” she spoke softly, trying to ignore the icy nip of the winter wind.

As Arabella stepped aside to welcome her nighttime visitor, the figure crawled through his entrance as if he’d done it plenty of times before. He made himself at home on the girl’s bed as she pulled her window shut and drew the curtains. The creature breathed out a frozen cloud. “Whooph. S’rough out there tonight, Belli. You’ve got it pretty easy in here.”

“If you came to bring me another one of your rat heads, I don’t care whether it’s on a string or in a jar — I’m not taking it.”

“You kidding? I’d be lucky if I could find any rats out there tonight. Unfortunately even they’re smart enough to go back home and get warm. Sucks, man. A guy’s gotta eat.”

“Jarv, I don’t really know what you expect me to do,” Arabella huffed. “I can’t exactly sneak downstairs and bring a whole deer platter up for you to gorge on.”

“You have deer? Shoot Belli, there’s no way that’s fresh. How long have you had that for?” the Jarv boy asked.

“Dunno. Not that long. Don’t act like it’s that big of a deal. My aunt got it from the butchery in town. I’m sure you could go down there and get some.”

The boy just cocked a sideways grin. “You’re funny, Bel. Get a load of that one. ‘A vampire walks into a butcher shop...’”

Arabella was getting annoyed. “Jarvis, I’m trying to help you. I know you’re hungry but you can’t always come to me in the middle of the night and expect me to be able to feed you. How often do you come around here when I’m sleeping, anyway?”

Jarvis hesitated and glanced down at Arabella’s desk. “No idea. Hey, what’s this you’re reading?” He picked up the book and flipped open the cover, but before he could get a good look at any of it it flipped shut again in a hurry. Jarvis let out a startled yelp. “Ah! Your weird book just cut me!”

Arabella leaned up against her windowsill. “It’s a witch’s book. It’s not going to let you read it. It’s enchanted, mouse brain.”

Jarvis was sucking the blood from his hand where he’d been struck. “Yeah, well it didn’t need to cut me. Someone should throw that thing in the pond. It’s gotta be like fifty eras old, it’s doing nothing but collecting dust!”

“Oh, stop it. Keep your voice down. Do you want to be thrown out into the snow? Besides, I’m actually reading it, so it’s not collecting dust. It’s kinda good. You wouldn’t be able to understand a word it says anyway. It’s written in Scireic.”

“You mean that fake language I hear the the shopkeepers yelling in? Didn’t know you could fill up a book with that many curse words.”

“Cut it out, Jar. Look, forget the book. Did you only come here looking for food or was there something else you wanted?”

“I mean it was mostly for warmth and food because that snow storm was gnarly. Did you see that stuff coming down? It was heavy as bricks to fly in!”

“Why were you up so early?” Arabella questioned, one eyebrow raised.

“Huh? Oh. I’m an early riser.”

“No, you’re not.”

“As of tonight, I am.”

“Jarvis,” Arabella groaned in growing agitation, “as much as I love having you over when I should be asleep, you’re starting to waste my time. I know this is your afternoon, but this is my midday. You’re making me sleepier the longer you sit here and chat with me.”

“Yikes. You’re in a funk tonight, Bel. I get it, though. You want me gone. I get it. I’ll go.”

“It’s nothing personal, you know? It’s just super late for me. Like, a witch needs her beauty sleep. I’ll tell you what; come back tomorrow night and I’ll have some snacks waiting for you. I’ll go out and buy some meats just for you, okay? Then we can talk forest gossip and all that fun stuff.” Arabella was still sitting on the windowsill awaiting Jarvis’ response. The boy sat staring at her in contemplation.

“Belli,” the boy finally started in reply, “the moonlight really brings out that red hair of yours, you know?” He smiled a toothy grin. “I’ll be back tomorrow night. If I don’t see any rabbit’s feet, I’m gonna be pissed! Remember, keep ‘em as raw as possible!” He got up and eagerly bounced over to sit beside his friend. Jarvis sighed. “It’s getting harder out here for us ‘creatures’, ya know? These witch shops keep popping up faster and faster nowadays. Sooner or later we might not have much land to ourselves. Food is more scarce because of the storms, and the little that there is is being trapped and sold by the shopkeepers. Look, I get it, witches are trying to make a living and all, but us carnivores gotta eat too! Those fauns have it easy. Man. Anyways, I’ll get going. Rest up, Bel. We’re gorging ourselves tomorrow!” He turned and gave the girl a peck on the cheek before he turned halfway and pushed the window open. One minute he was next to Arabella, but the next he was taking a dive head first out the window. It unnerved her every time to watch him take such a risky move, but she knew he was used to it so she had no clue why she always worried so much. As she started to close her window pane and place the lock back where it was, she watched the bat whose fur was black in the moonlight fly off further and grow smaller against the sky.

Drawing her purple curtains, Arabella sat back on her bed and pulled her feet up onto her mattress. Considering her options, she decided it was just best to hit the sack now. The young witch reached over to her bedside table and fixed the book that her friend had tampered with. With a final glance at the blue moon outside of her window, Arabella flicked off her nighttime light and leaned back in her bed. Resting her head on her comfortable pillows, her eyes no longer fought the urge to close.

[asidian]

prompt!!! De-aged Ignis :) Is he freaked out by these 3 weirdos? Do the bros try to take care of him? Does baby Iggy take care of them?! Hijinks!

Author’s Notes: Sorry it took so long, bean. Here’s your baby Iggy. :)

===

Not So Very Different

===

When they go to bed that night, everything’s normal.

The campfire’s still a warm glow outside the tent, casting golden light and flickering shadows across the fabric. Gladio’s against the far wall, snoring away in his sleeping bag. Noct’s sprawled against Prompto, boneless and dead to the world. And Ignis is directly to his right, glasses folded neatly in their case and arms folded neatly over his chest.

Prompto thinks, just before he drifts off to sleep, that the pose is like some cartoon vampire, all stiff lines and rigid posture. His brain’s doing the slow, nonsensical loop it always does just before he goes down for the night, and he imagines, very vividly, Ignis dissolving under the glimmer of magic, doubtless so that he can become a bat.

It’s such a good mental picture that Prompto’s still smiling when sleep rises up to bring him down.

The next thing he knows, someone’s screaming. 

It’s a short scream, but it’s shrill, and high-pitched, and it’s right next to him.

Prompto blinks his eyes open – struggles into awareness and pushes himself up to sitting, all in one motion. They’ve been on the road long enough by now that he puts a hand out, ready to call his gun.

He takes in the scene: Gladio, sword drawn and face dark as a thunderstorm. Noct, still blearily blinking his eyes open, struggling to wake as he always does. And there beside him, where Ignis ought to be: a small boy with sleep-mussed hair and wide green eyes, all but drowning in Ignis’ button-up pajama top.

Prompto waits a beat for this to make more sense – waits another, just to be sure. But nope, the pieces aren’t connecting, and he just keeps staring, and the boy just keeps staring back.

“What the hell?” says Gladio, behind him.

And Noct says, “Ignis?”

Prompto swivels his head around – blinks at Noct. Turns back, and blinks at the boy.

There’s uncertainty in his expression – suspicion.

Then Noct says, “It’s me. Noct,” and the eyes go wide and stunned.

“Your Highness?” says the mini-Ignis, and Prompto feels his mouth fall open, because – because. It’s justified, dammit. Ignis looks like he’s all of about eight years old, but that perfect, proper accent is still the same.

“Uh,” says Prompto. “Guys? Why’s he so small?”

Behind him, he can hear Gladio shift forward, presumably for a better look. “Holy shit,” he says. “It is him.”

“Guys?,” says Prompto. “Seriously, he’s like tiny.”

“I most certainly am not,” says mini-Ignis, in that proper accent of his, almost offended. “I’m nearly nine years old.”

Prompto stares at him for a beat. Ignis stares back. Prompto feels like he’s probably in the middle of the weirdest dream he’s had this decade when he says, “Uh. Yeah. Um. Sorry?”

“This is Prompto,” says Noct, like introducing him to someone he’s known for years is the kind of thing you just do every day.

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” says mini-Ignis, tone perfectly polite even while his expression says he still subtly resents being called tiny.

“Hi,” says Prompto.

“And you’ve met Gladio,” says Noct.

Those somber green eyes dart around the interior of the tent – linger on Gladio like he’s working out a puzzle, and then, finally, seem to brighten with recognition. 

“Yo,” says Gladio. He stretches out his sword hand, away from Ignis – lets the weapon flicker and fade away in a shimmer of white light.

Ignis gives him a cautious nod in return.

Then his gaze swivels back to Noct. “Highness,” he says at last. “Don’t worry. Whatever manner of magic this is, we’ll find a way to return you to yourself.”

It’s kind of cute. He’s so earnest. He’s like regular-Ignis, all serious business, but with floppier hair.

“Hate to break it to you, Specs,” says Noct. “But I think you’re the one who’s gonna need the help.”

Ignis peers around at them, small brow furrowed. Gladio gives a nod; Prompto offers an apologetic smile.

Ignis takes an unsteady breath in and lets it out slowly. Prompto’s kind of impressed he’s not still screaming his head off. “I’m meant to be older, then,” he says, in a voice that wavers only a little.

“Like our age,” says Prompto. “Give or take a couple years.”

“Ah,” says Ignis, distantly. 

Then he takes another steadying breath in and faints dead away.

== 

By morning – after a very, very late night of discussing probable causes and potential fixes – Iggy’s got his head screwed on right again.

Not long after the sun comes up, he dresses himself in a white striped button-up that’s large enough to be a night shirt, and when Gladio tries to make breakfast, he looks downright scandalized. “Astrals preserve us,” Ignis breathes. “You’ll kill us all,” and Prompto laughs so hard he chokes on his coffee, until Noct has to pound him on the back to get him to breathe again.

Breakfast’s scrambled eggs and toast: not up to Ignis’ usual standards, maybe, but definitely better than Prompto could manage when he was eight. Probably about the upward limits of what he can make now, his brain reminds him cheerfully, and he blushes, and eats his eggs, and tells it to shut up.

“We need an actionable plan,” says mini-Ignis, reasonably, when the dishes are done.

“Dude,” says Prompto. “Are you secretly a little adult?”

Noct lifts one shoulder and lets it drop. “I told you he hasn’t changed since we were kids.”

Gladio clears his throat. “Iggy’s right, though. We’d better figure out what we’re gonna do.”

“Of course I’m right,” says Ignis, a touch testily. “Now: I understand that the most likely culprit is the time daemon you claim we fought yesterday.”

“Yeah,” says Noct. “Unless you ended up trying those weird mushrooms we found.”

Ignis pauses. He presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, and the gesture is so him that Prompto finds himself grinning.

“Don’t worry, dude,” says Prompto, and nudges him companionably. “You grow up to be a pretty reasonable guy. Ten to one, it’s not the mushrooms.”

“Daemon or mushrooms,” says mini-Ignis. “A remedy ought to fix the problem regardless. Correct?”

“You got it,” says Gladio.

“Excellent,” says Ignis. “Then we’d best get moving.”

They all stand there, waiting expectantly, until Noct realizes he’s going to have to actually drive for a change.

===

It’s kind of cute.

Mini-Ignis lasts all of about three minutes in the car before he sacks out in the back seat, curled up on one side, practically twisted in his seat belt.

Prompto doesn’t blame him. They’ve been up most of the night, and he’s kind of dragging, himself.

He still finds the energy to say, “Awwww,” and twist around in his seat to lean over the back and peer down at the sleeping kiddo. “Lookit his little face.”

He’s just getting the camera up to snap a pic or five when Noct says, “You know he’s gonna kill you when he’s back to normal, right?”

“Why?” says Prompto. “Cause I got photographic evidence that he actually sleeps sometimes?”

Gladio snorts, nose buried in his book. “Guess this is what life was like, pre-coffee.”

Prompto snaps another couple of pics, trying to get the right angle – goes to twist back around and face forward again.

A little detail catches in his mind, though: the way the glasses are smooshed up against Iggy’s nose, biting in so they’ll leave a red mark. 

Prompto knows those feels. He reaches back and swipes the glasses – way too big for the kid – right off his face.

“And you touched the glasses,” says Noct, and gives a low whistle. “We’re gonna need two funerals for all the pieces you’ll be in.”

“Dude,” says Prompto, and pokes him in the side. “Shouldn’t you be watching the road?”

===

They stop at Galdin Quay. They stop at Hammerhead, where Cindy coos over their newest (much smaller) addition to the party. They stop at Lestallum, and Old Lestallum, and some little outpost down by a concrete river.

Thank gods Iggy sleeps through most of it, cause he’s awake for the last two, and he judges them like crazy both times they have to go poking in the shop and come away empty-handed.

“None of you remember where to find one?” he says, almost disbelieving, the second time Gladio heads back with nothing to show for the pitstop.

By now, the sun’s chasing the horizon, and the sky’s gone dusky orange with the onset of night. It’s kind of pretty. Prom’s leaning out of the car to line up a landscape in his viewfinder when Noct says, “Sorry, Specs. You, uh. You’re the one who pays attention to stuff like that.”

“And when I’m the one in need of a remedy?” says Ignis, a little stuffily.

Prompto sits back down in his seat. “We’re working it out. Kind of. Progress is being made.“

“Well,” says Ignis, in the most long-suffering tone Prompto thinks he’s ever heard. “I suppose there’s nothing for it. We’d best find someplace to spend the night.”

Someplace to spend the night is a haven in the middle of nowhere, the fire burning warm and golden and the stars spread out above them in a wash of white.

It’s not until Ignis goes to unpack the cookware that something stirs inside Prompto: a memory, half-buried, of a little boy alone in his house, parents away on business. Of scraping simple meals together, night after night, because no one else is there to do it.

Ignis is about that age now.

Prompto almost upends his chair, he gets up so fast. He says, “Hey, how bout I make dinner tonight?”

Ignis looks him up and down, plainly evaluating, and Prompto tries on his best smile. He says, “It won’t be fancy, but it’ll be edible.”

“Edible,” snorts Gladio. “That’s a glowing five-star review, if I ever heard one.”

“Dude,” says Noct. “Last time you tried to make a cake, you almost burned down the kitchen.”

“Lucky us,” says Prompto. “We don’t have a kitchen. And I’m not making cake.”

He makes stir-fry. 

The meat’s overdone, and the greens are kind of wilted, but he delivers on that promise: it’s definitely edible. 

And while Prompto does the dishes, mini-Ignis sits by the fire and re-discovers King’s Knight on his phone.

===

The little store nestled down at the base of Mount Ravatogh has a remedy.

They stand there out front for a couple minutes, mini-Ignis holding the smooth glass bottle in his small hand. “I suspect,” he says at length. “That I will wake up and think this was all a strange dream.” His lips soften into a smile. “I’ll tell you all about it, Noct.”

When he downs the remedy, the change happens all at once, in a glimmer of magic.

One second, a boy is standing before them. The next, regular-Ignis is taking off his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose.

“Well look who’s here,” says Gladio.

“Hey, Iggy,” says Prompto. “Welcome back.”

Noct says nothing at all. His eyes are very wide, and Prompto wonders, fleetingly, whether he’s recalling a much young version of Ignis telling a much younger version of himself about a very familiar dream.

Ignis lifts his head. He slides his glasses back on. “As my very first order of business,” he says, “I’m going to mark our map. Astrals forbid we ever need a phoenix down if I’m indisposed.”

[grandhonker-blog]

Skyscape: Part 22

On the last day before the Exams, the atmosphere of ecstatic excitement seemed to come to a grand climax. Moods were especially high, and no one seemed to be able to sit still, running around and about the HQ in small groups, surrounding tomorrow’s competitors.

Dan had retired to his dorm at about mid-afternoon. He had borrowed a book from Kara, and was slowly making his way through it, liking modern 25th century literature more and more.

Eventually, Kara walked in.

“Oh. You’re here.” He said, walking up to his bunk, and grabbing a bag from it.

Dan had raised a hand in greeting. Kara was about to walk out, but hesitated.

“A couple of us are going out tonight.” He said. It took Dan several seconds to process that this was directed at him.

“Oh?”

“I thought… maybe you wanted to come along?”

Kara looked about as awkward as he sounded. Dan shrugged.

“I suppose I don’t have anything better to do.” He smiled. “Where are we going?”

He scratched his flowing red hair. “Uh, I think it’ll be better if you just see it.” Dan was intrigued, and jumped off the bunk, to follow Kara.

---

 Kara and Dan met up with Jay and Jack in the Main Hall. The two were, apparently, arguing about something.

“-and if I want to believe him, I will.” Jay had said.

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t, I’m just saying that you ought to be extra careful. How long has it been since you two have even talked?” Jack spoke in a calm, but persistent voice.

“What’s wrong?” Dan asked, approaching. The four of them exchanged hellos.

Jack turned to Kara. “You have to help me convince her. She’s getting letters from her brother again.”

Kara looked at Jay. “Really?”

Jay nodded. “It’s nothing serious. I know the kind of guy he is, but I’m not about to run off to him. I’m not stupid, you know.”

Jack sighed. “I just wish you’d be more careful.”

Jay waved off Jack’s remark. “Whatever. Let’s just get going.”

The four of them moved through the Main Hall, and Dan realized that they were walking in the direction of the room where he had seen all of the generators. Jack opened the door, and everyone followed him inside.

Nothing much had changed, seemingly. It was darker now, but the layers and layers of machinery and piping were still there, and the group had to duck and weave around them, moving further and further into the space.

“What even is this place?” Dan asked.

“It’s the power generators. How do you think all of the fancy lighting and techy stuff works?” Jay responded, her voice echoing through the room, which seemed to be getting bigger the further they walked in.

Eventually, they came across a wall. It was covered in piping, excepting a single square meter of suspiciously open space close to the ground.

“Through here.”

Jack went up, and grabbed the metal wall with his hands, pulling it backwards with some difficulty. He lifted the plate, and moved it sideways. A faint, moonlit glow came from within.

They made their way through a rather small tunnel, climbing one after another. The light increased, and eventually, after maneuvering past a sharp corner, the four of them emerged into an open space.

Apparently, the HQ was not as deep underground as Dan had suspected. They were standing in a ravine. It was tall, slim, and snaked its way into the north and south out of Dan’s sight. It reached at least several hundred meters upwards, where Dan saw the faint line of moonlight shining from the sky above.

“So what do you think?” Jay inquired, as Jack led their group to a relative open space in the middle of the ravine.

“It’s pretty pretty.” Dan smiled.

They sat down in the middle of the space, and Kara, out of his bag, pulled out what looked like small logs of wood. He placed them on the ground, and Jack lit them, running his fingers along their length, heating them up with a warmth that spread with a warm orange glow, all the way through the ravine, then blazing up as a stark, proud flame.

 ---

 They had sat there, under the stars, for nearly two hours. For Dan, most of that time was spent in silence. Jay and Jack talked in whispered smiles and relaxed tones. Kara had stood up, and was “training” – flinging icicles into the wall of the ravine, to the point where cracks had started to develop in the hard sandstone. Dan had spent his time trying to will the campfire into different shapes, feeling the warmth of vis mix with the warmth of the fire, and was sweating about an hour in.

The two lovebirds, giggling and casting knowing smiles at each other, stood up.

“Well, it’s getting late. We’d better go.”

Dan smiled, and Kara nodded, not even looking around.

“Shouldn’t you go too, Kara? You have a big day tomorrow, just like Jay.” Jack said, turning to Kara as they walked off. Kara shook his head. He didn’t say anything, and Jack was too occupied to care.

It took Kara several seconds to see that Dan had not gone. He turned to look at him. Dan was sitting near the fire, its dying shadows playing across his dark skin.

“Why didn’t you go with them?”

Dan shrugged. “I don’t have an Exam tomorrow. Why didn’t you go?”

Kara turned around “If I try to go to sleep, the stress will keep me awake and make me tired tomorrow. I need to tire myself out so that I fall asleep immediately, I’ll be less stressed, and less tired.”

Dan laughed. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

There was a silent intermission of nothing but the crackling flame, and the gusting wind hovering somewhere above them.

“You don’t have to stay to wait for me.” Kara said, in between continuing to fling the ice at the ravine wall.

“I know. But I am.”

Kara felt a strange emotion at that. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was yet.

It was almost midnight by the time Kara had “tired himself out”. He had crashed into his bed, while Dan had ascended up the ladder, yawning.

“Don’t forget to set an alarm for tomorrow morning.” He said.

“I don’t need to.” Kara said, and his voice betrayed a grin.

And Dan believed him.

[lykegenia]

Zutara Week Day 6: Soulmates

Only one day left of Zutara Week! Thanks for the amazing response so far on my ZKWeek story A Life, Together, which you can find in its entirety here.

@zutaraweek

ZKWeek Day 6: Soulmates Words: 2779 Summary: Katara and Zuko find themselves needing to get away from a party. After a year apart, they learn to reconnect. Read it on AO3

Yu Dao’s main plaza glittered under moonlight and the paper lanterns that imitated it. Every few heartbeats, the people gathered in the large, open space were gilded by vibrant flashes of colour as fireworks – developed especially from Fire Nation knowledge of gunpowder and Earth Kingdom familiarity with mineral dyes – exploded in bright, dazzling flowers that bloomed and wilted in the same instant. Toph’s metalbending students had constructed hanging sculptures for the occasion, and their abstract forms reflected the shine on the nobles’ jewellery and fine silks, while all around the low buzz of conversation reflected the easy-going nature of the gathering. One year on from the war’s end, and everyone who was anyone wanted to be seen celebrating the peace.

After almost a whole year with little company besides the avatar, however, Katara was finding the press of people a little overwhelming. The food was good, a mixture of cuisines from all over the world, but there were only so many canapes she could stuff into her mouth before it could be considered rude. King Kuei’s rice wine did a better job of relaxing her enough to mingle, but even the warm tingle it sent through her veins grew cold when she turned from a conversation with a handsome young Earth Kingdom noble to find Aang pouting at her over a plate of melon slices carved to resemble flowers.

“Why weren’t you watching me juggle with Bumi?” he asked.

“I thought I saw someone I knew,” she lied. “I wanted to talk to them.”

“You should have waited for me, we could have gone together.” He tried to reach for her hand but she found she needed to adjust one of her hair loopies instead. Truthfully, she had long since grown fed up of standing on the sidelines, watching him pander to his fans.

“I don’t need you to be with me every second, you know,” she told him uneasily. It had felt good to just get lost in the crowd. “And you’re not the only thing I think about.”

A year travelling with him, following while the rest of her friends got on with their lives – it was beginning to wear thin. She had indulged his crush when the world needed him to defeat the Fire Lord, but they had succeeded. That’s what this party was all about, a celebration of the world’s desire and newfound ability to move on, to achieve progress held back by a century of war. True, she had seen some wonderful things since the day Zuko was crowned and they set off pursuing rumours of other airbenders, but she regretted that Aang had mistaken her wanderlust for a desire to be closer to him, as more than friends. Spirits, he was still a child compared to her. Aunt Wu’s prophecy had never said anything about that.

“Katara,” Aang said, “You know you’re my forever girl. Let’s just –”

But the wine had gotten to her temper. “I need to get some air.”

And now she was stood at the edge of the plaza, lurking in the shadows like some would-be assassin, trying to unscramble her thoughts into some semblance of order. Everyone else seemed to have what they wanted – Sokka and Suki were rebuilding; Toph had recognition for her talents as an earthbender, and had even made amends with her parents; Iroh had his teashop. Why couldn’t she have what she wanted?

She huffed. What even did she want?

“Is it bad that I’m happy to find someone else not enjoying themselves?”

“Zuko!”

“Mind if I join you?” he asked. “This particular patch of shadows seems good for getting away from unwanted attention.”

She made room for him against the wall, trying not to stare. Even a year had made a difference to his appearance, filling out his shoulders, adding an inch or two to his height. His face had lost some of its roundness, too, as if the golden crown pinned to his topknot had chiselled it away, and with sudden force she remembered watching him train with Aang on Ember Island, when the sun baked everything so hot they had had to strip off their shirts to stay cool. She wondered if his muscles were still so defined under his layers of silk, or whether a year of politics had softened them away.

The thought made her cheeks burn and she turned away so he couldn’t see, suddenly self-conscious. Aang had said she looked pretty before stepping out tonight, but then, she often got the impression he complimented her because he thought it was what she wanted to hear, rather than because it was his genuine opinion.

She realised neither of them were speaking.

“It’s been a while,” she ventured.

“It has,” he replied.

“How’s Mai?”

“We broke up.”

“Oh.”

“I saw that argument you just had with Aang. How are things between you two?”

“Strained.”

“I see.”

He leaned back against the wall, running so hot she could feel the warmth of his body even across the careful distance that separated them.

“So,” she tried again, “what has you running away from the party?”

Zuko groaned and shot her a wry smirk. “Uncle has decided to play matchmaker on my behalf, and half the Earth Kingdom is indulging him. All that perfume was beginning to give me a headache.”

“You’re definitely safer here, then,” she teased, trying to squash the sudden squirm in her stomach that felt a lot like jealousy.

“Only as long as nobody finds us.” His eyes went wide, his cheeks darkening as a hand anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t think – I hadn’t realised what this might look like.”

It took her a second to catch on. “Oh!”

“Um… if you’d rather I go, I wouldn’t want to give anyone the wrong idea…”

Aang, she realised – he was talking about what Aang would think catching them alone together, as if they weren’t just two old friends getting reacquainted, as if she wasn’t a free person who could do what she liked.

“I don’t care what people might think,” she growled, giving into the impulse to grasp Zuko’s wrist. She was her own self. She could do what she liked. Anything she liked. The certainty of it bubbled into recklessness beneath her skin. “Let’s go somewhere.”

“What?”

“If we throw on a couple of cloaks nobody will know who we are,” she said. “We could go anywhere.”

“Maybe you can,” he replied, though he had yet to pry himself loose of her grip. “I’m the fire lord. I have dignitaries to meet, and foreign policy to talk about, and –”

“A raging horde of earth Kingdom noblewomen eager to get their claws into you,” she teased. “C’mon. We haven’t had a chance to talk for ages. I’ve… missed you.” She was almost too shy to say, to admit it out loud, but she had, sometimes more than she ever thought possible for the man who at one point had been the face of her enemy.

Zuko seemed just as stunned by her confession. His mouth hung open as if to say something, but when the words wouldn’t come he shook his head and sighed.

In what seemed like no time at all, they were ambling down a cobbled street far away from the glamour of the party, wandering without any particular destination in mind. There were few other people out so late at night, so they were free to talk and laugh about anything that took their fancy, without fear of recognition. Katara was amazed by how easily they slipped back into their old rapport, talking about everything from flying lemurs to the consequences of the Fire Nation’s late rainy season as if the past year hadn’t happened. She found it refreshing to air her opinions on politics and the state of the world’s recovery, and she appreciated the thoughtful way Zuko listened to her stories, the quiet giggle they shared when she told him about the adventure with the sandbender chief’s white poodle-pony.

Rounding a corner, they came upon a teahouse lit with green lanterns to show it was still open for business. Zuko pulled his hood lower over his face when the man standing by the door spotted them and waved them over.

“Perhaps you are looking for some entertainment this evening?” he asked jovially, thrusting a leaflet into Katara’s hands. “It’s going to rain later – better to be inside enjoying hot tea and a good show than to be caught out in the wet!”

Katara chuckled despite herself, knowing a little rain was no problem for a master waterbender, and looked down at the square of paper in her hand.

“Love in the Time of Badgermoles,” she mused. “What’s it about?”

“It is a timeless tale of love, loss, and revenge,” the seller informed her eagerly. “It’s a well-known Earth Kingdom story. Certain to not disappoint. And the tea’s good,” he added, beaming.

Katara turned to Zuko. “Well?”

He gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “We’ve come this far.”

After paying the seller for their entry, they slipped into the teahouse and found a couple of quiet seats at the back. The place had drawn a good crowd, many of them obviously locals, going by how they laughed and joked with the actors, who were putting the final touches to their elaborate makeup. A young woman bustled over to them to take their order (a pot of jasmine tea for Katara, oolong for Zuko, with a plate of sweet rice balls as a side. In the dim warmth of their corner, they were content to remain silent, enjoying the anonymity and the cosy ambience that let them take advantage of it.

The lights in the teahouse dimmed. The actors packed up their makeup cases and mirrors and took their place on the stage. One, dressed in a robe of white and red trimmed with gold to match her beaded headdress, perched on a stool behind a guzheng and plucked a chord with metal-tipped fingers. Whatever conversation was left in the audience stilled immediately.

“The misty bamboo divides two nations at war,” trilled the actress plucking at the strings. “Oh will this war ever end?”

The play was nothing like Fire Nation theatre, with its acrobatics and flashy special effects, but it had an understated elegance that kept the audience enraptured. The narrator playing the guzheng unfolded the story with a masterful combination of words and music, mesmerising to the point where it was easy to forget the stage was so small there was only room for two actors at a time.

“The girl sits and picks flowers on the mountainside,” the narrator sang. Another actress painted white with a pure pink blush across her cheeks danced an imitation of strolling through a meadow. “And then suddenly…”

Somewhere off-stage, someone banged on a wooden block, and a spotlight rose on an actor in youthful garb who appeared from behind a curtain. The two circled each other, talking, accompanied by wary notes on the guzheng, and Katara found a smile growing on her face.

“What is it?” Zuko asked in her ear.

“The Cave of Two Lovers.”

At his blank look, she explained about the cave they had found while running form Azula, and about the tomb she and Aang had found inside. On the stage, the two lovers parted to opposite sides of the room, looking back wistfully. She remembered the glowing crystals lighting the ceiling and couldn’t help but think of another glowing cave, a lifetime ago now, that might have had such a different outcome. Her head tipped against Zuko’s shoulder, succumbing to the soporific effect of the warm, cosy dark of the teahouse. Her heart fluttered when, instead of pulling away, he leaned in as well and settled his cheek against the top of her head with a sigh.

The play went on. Shu’s father forbade him to go to the mountain to see his lover, and Oma’s sister followed her to try and discover her secret.

“It’s becoming too dangerous for us to see one another,” Oma lamented. “I would run away with you but for the duties to our families.”

When the actors found the badgermoles and ‘built’ the cave, something familiar tugged at Katara’s heart. “And now no one will ever part us,” promised Shu.

Zuko’s hand found hers under the table, and gave a comforting squeeze. The rest of the audience was enraptured and didn’t notice, but Katara felt tears prick her eyes because she knew what came next. She squeezed Zuko’s fingers back.

The final act of the play came to an end with a heart-wrenching monologue from the actress playing Oma as she held the ‘dead’ Shu in her arms. In the play, he had refused to attack her village for fear of hurting anyone she loved, and had instead gone to find her. In a fit of rage, his father killed him just as he caught sight of his love.

“I will find you in the next life, my dearest,” Oma promised, rising to her feet, “and we will be free of this awful shadow of war. And until we meet again, I will end the conflict that has taken you from me.” She raised her arms, letting her long white sleeves trail their full length to the floor, and flicked them out in a show of pretend earthbending, while rattles played off-stage and drums banged to an impressive beat. All the other actors shuffled to the floor in front of the stage and pleaded with her to stop the mountains moving.

“Behold, on that mountain I will build a city,” Oma proclaimed, with a sweeping gesture behind her. “Never again will our two people fight each other.”

The stage lighting snuffed out, but none of the audience started to move, so Katara held in her need to stretch and kept watching. A spotlight rose on the narrator, still plucking her guzheng, and what followed was a lengthy epilogue about the bureaucracy of the new city, and Oma’s long years of good leadership being a model for what kingdoms should be.

When it was over, Katara clapped along with the rest of the audience, turning only to find that Zuko had been dozing, and that her movement jolted him awake. She felt her breath catch on the little grunt he made as he shifted into a better seating position, even though he untangled their fingers so he could rub the sleep out of his golden eyes.

“All those Earth Kingdom girls really got to you, huh?” she teased.

“Ugh, don’t,” he groaned, stifling a yawn. “Just thinking of all the apologies I’m going to have to make tomorrow…”

“Was this a mistake?” she asked, her heart clenching. “I should have thought – it was wrong of me to ask you to come.”

“Hey, no.” He laid his hand on her shoulder. It burned through the fabric of her clothes. “I enjoyed this, and I enjoyed the company more, so don’t be sorry. I’m glad you persuaded me to come.”

“I enjoyed it, too,” she replied.

The sound of a cleared throat startled them. The same waitress who had brought them their tea was standing by the door, politely impatient, a sweeping brush in one hand. All the other patrons had already filed out, and the other servers were starting to clean the room. With bashful smiles, Katara and Zuko stood up and gathered their things, though she noticed a dull clink of gold and the outrageous tip he left in the teapot before he followed her out.

It had started to rain.

“It’s a good thing I have you with me,” he joked, taking her arm in a courtly sort of way while she bent the water away from their heads. “Shall we get back to the party?”

“I suppose we should.”

Sokka would be wondering where she was. Aang would be, too. It was ironic, really, that the peace celebration had kept her so on edge, and that leaving it had the opposite effect. As they began to walk away, she chanced one last look at the teahouse, its lanterns now extinguished, its windows dark, and frowned. For a few hours, she had been free of all doubt, free to be herself, and in that time she had felt the most at peace she had since being a very small child. Now though, all the insidious voices in her head came crowding back. Why couldn’t she have what she wanted? Perhaps the better question, she thought as she glanced at Zuko, was why it was so difficult to ask for it.

[petersasteria]

Ours - George Smith Imagine!

A/N: I have New Hope Club feels don’t fight me.

Shout out to the George girls out there! 

Song Preference: Ours by Taylor Swift

Disclaimer: P.O.V’s switch from time to time, and if your names are Gabbie or Anna, I’m deeply sorry just change the names. 

* * * *

Elevator buttons and morning air

Stranger’s silence makes me wanna take the stairs

If you were here we’d laugh about their vacant stares

But right now, my time is theirs

George’s P.O.V

Today the lads and I are going somewhere and to be honest, I don’t really know where we’re going. They say that we’re here attending a meeting and I hate it. I can’t wait to go home. I woke up really early today and I all I want to do is spend the rest of my day with my girlfriend, Y/N. 

We arrive at the building and it had no life. It’s like one of those sad films with poor quality. Kinda like those films that were made ages ago. I can just imagine the black and white filter in this building. No one was happy. Geez, when did their lives get sucked out of them? 

We go to the reception area and I look around as Reece asked the receptionist the floor of where our meeting is held. Reece turned to Blake and I and said, “4th floor.” We walked to the elevator and almost every employee is there waiting for the elevator. 

After standing in silence, the elevator made a ‘ding’ sound which means it arrived. Everyone from inside the elevator walked out, as employees who were standing with us went inside. As we were walking, we knew that the elevator would be super packed. Everyone was pushing through other people, so the boys and I stay at the side to avoid this.

“Ugh. Can we just wait for the next?” Blake asks quietly, not wanting anyone to hear his complaint. 

“No, because we’ll be late.” I reply. 

“What do you mean "we’ll be late”? We’re early!“ Blake whispers angrily.

"Actually we’re not. You literally stayed in the bathroom for nearly an hour just to fix your hair.” Reece butts in with a small smile on his face.

“I second that.” I say in a normal tone. I swear Blake and Reece take so long just to fix their hair. I understand girls who take their time to put on make up and fixed their hair in the process, but I swear these two! If I were asked who takes the longest in fixing their hair, I would say Blake. He takes the longest. Seriously, watch all our Club Cams. 

“It’ll just take a few minutes.” Blake shrugs. 

“No, Blake. We’re five minutes late already. We can’t afford to be late for another minute. Now, let’s go.” Reece says sternly as we follow behind him going to the elevator.

The elevator was so full that I was standing in the middle of the elevator with Blake on my right, and Reece on my left. It’s so quiet in here, I thought to myself. The elevator’s slow, and there’s no elevator music to at least make things alive. 

I look around the elevator and hold back a laugh. Everyone has spaced out. Even Blake spaced out! I look at Reece, and I think he’s bloody lost it. He’s bobbing his head -as if listening- to music that isn’t there. I look away and got out my phone to send a quick text to Y/N. 

From: George 

To: Babe ❤

Hey babe! Good morning. I have a meeting today, and I didn’t want to wake you. There’s breakfast on the table if you’re hungry. Btw, I’m currently in an elevator and if you were here we’d probably laugh at all these people’s faces! Hahaha! Everyone spaced out (even Blake)! I’ll tell you all about it later. Love you! xx

Send.

“You’re so whipped.” Reece says with a light chuckle whilst shaking his head. I ignored his comment and put my phone back in my pocket.

Ugh this is taking forever! I wish I used the stairs. I would’ve been there on time. Plus, it’s a quick exercise. 

'ding’

The door opened and we’re finally here! Everyone was rushing out at the same time, even Reece and Blake. I wanted to do the same, but I guess God had other plans for me. Instead of being out in the open like Reece and Blake, I got left behind the elevator, because I got pushed furthermore in it. (a/n: like Taylor Swift in the video above.)

*

Seems like there’s always someone who disapproves

They’ll judge it like they know about me and you

And the verdict comes from those with nothing else to do 

The jury’s out, but my choice is you

Your P.O.V

I woke up to the 'ding’ sound on my phone. I look at it and see that it was from George. 

From: Georgeous 😂

To: Y/N

Hey babe! Good morning. I have a meeting today, and I didn’t want to wake you. There’s breakfast on the table if you’re hungry. Btw, I’m currently in an elevator and if you were here we’d probably laugh at all these people’s faces! Hahaha! Everyone spaced out (even Blake)! I’ll tell you all about it later. Love you! xx  

He made me breakfast? Aww, how sweet. 

I sit up and leaned on the headboard whilst typing a message to George.

To: Georgeous 😂

From: Y/N

Good morning, babe! I just woke up. Good luck with your meeting. Don’t reply to this message. I don’t want to disturb you. Thank you so much for breakfast! And I’m excited for the story you’ll tell me when you get home. I’ll be out with my friends today. Text you later. Love you! xx

Send. 

I get up, stretch, and do my morning routine. After that, I eat the breakfast George prepared and washed the dishes. I go back upstairs and charge my phone. Whilst charging my phone, I hop in the shower and stayed there for 10 minutes. After that, I looked for something to wear. 

It’s simple, but I didn’t want to dress up that much. 

When my phone finished charging, I removed it from the charger and put the charger in my bag. I always bring my charger with me. Hey, you’ll never know where you end up in. 

I walked to the nearest Starbucks to meet up with my friends, Gabbie and Anna.

They see me from afar, and wave at me. Of course, I waved back not wanting them to look like fools. “Hey girls!” I greeted them as I sat down in between Gabbie and Anna.

“Hey Y/N! So, I’m going on a date tonight. I don’t know what to wear!” Anna sighs.

“Wow! Okay. Where are you going?” I ask, not really knowing if I’m of good help.

“That’s the thing. It’s a surprise!” Anna crosses her arms and sips her drink.

“Then wear something nice. Not too casual and not too fancy or something.” Gabbie suggests. 

“Yeah, that could work! Let’s go, because knowing Anna, she’d stay there for a long time.” I chuckle.

“Hey!” Anna says as she pretends to be offended.

We got in Gabbie’s car and she drives to the mall. We arrive there and Anna immediately drags us to every store. After what seemed like a year, we took a break in an ice cream parlor. 

“So Y/N, how’s life?” Gabbie asks as she ate her ice cream.

“Yeah. We haven’t heard from you in months! What happened to you?” Anna asks with concern.

“Relax, guys. I’ve been great! I was busy with school work.” I say. Gabbie and Anna no longer go to the same school as I do, so they often ask me how I’m doing without them. 

“Ah, I see. What about that popstar boyfriend of yours?” Gabbie smirks as she nudges my elbow playfully. 

“George? He’s fine! He’s doing really well with his band. I’m really proud of him.” I smile. The thought of George being so passionate about something he loves doing is really inspiring. 

“George is great and all, but I hate to break it to you. He’s not really for you. I mean, you guys are a great pair, but I think he’s not right for you!” Anna says as I look down and avoid her gaze.

“I don’t mean to sound judgmental or anything, but he’s in a famous band and you’re just you. You live a simple life and he’s traveling here and there. He won’t have time for you. What if his band thing doesn’t work out?” Anna asks, “Let’s say you’ve graduated college and you’re working. Your job is your dream job. Now you and George are still together, but his band thing didn’t work out and now he doesn’t have a job. Y/N, I’m just looking out for you. His job is great, I have to admit that, but it’s not stable.” she adds. I didn’t say anything. I just looked away and tried to block them out.

“Anna, I get your point, but we don’t know what’s going on. We don’t even know George that much. We only met him once and that was when he was going away for tour. Let’s just support Y/N and respect her decisions. After all, it’s her life. But as her friends, we need to be here for her no matter what happens.” Gabbie says calmly, but I know she’s about to lose it. I look at Gabbie and mutter a little -but genuine- “thank you”. Gabbie just smiles in return. 

We finish shopping and I got some stuff for George as well. Gabbie brought Anna home first and then me. I thanked Gabbie for the ride and for defending me. She said it was no problem. I wave at her and walk to my shared flat with George. 

I open the door and put the things that I bought for George on the coffee table in front of the couch. I kick off my shoes and laid down on thee couch. Geez, shopping is tiring.

*

You never know what people have up their sleeves

Ghosts from your past gonna jump out at me

Lurking in the shadows with their lip gloss smiles

But I don’t care, 'cause right now you’re mine

George’s P.O.V

I got Y/N’s text a few minutes ago. I followed what she said and didn’t reply. After the meeting, the lads and I decided to eat lunch and roam around a bit. We decided to eat at Nando’s. 

-time skip bc I can’t think of anything is brought to you by 'Make Up’ by New Hope Club is now Vevo-

The lads and I are walking around the mall in silence, until Blake brought up a topic about exes.

“I suddenly remembered my ex.” Blake groans.

“Why?” Reece snorts.

“I don’t know. If any of you noticed, we passed by a group of girls who sounded like her. Y'know, a nagger.” Blake rolls his eyes at the thought. That’s true, though. His ex was an absolute nagger. Thank goodness he broke it off before it becomes worse. 

“Anais was nice and all, but it didn’t work out.” Reece shrugs. “What about you, George?” he asks.

“What? Oh, my ex? Y'know she’s where she’s supposed to be.” I simply shrug.

Reece and Blake look at each other with confusion written all over their faces. 

“Where?” Blake looks at me with furrowed eyebrows.

“In my past along with my other exes. I don’t care about them anymore.” I say. Seriously, they’re not my priority anymore. I’m sure they’re happy right now and my last ex probably hates me, but whatever. “I’ve got Y/N now, and I’m happy.” I add.

*

And it’s not theirs to speculate if it’s wrong and

Your hands are tough but they are where mine belong in

I’ll fight their doubt and give you faith

With this song for you

George’s P.O.V

After lunch with the boys, I went home only to find Y/N sleeping on the couch. I kiss her forehead and look inside the paper bag that’s on the coffee table. She got me some stuff that I need. I’ll thank her when she wakes up. 

I kick off my shoes and go up to Y/N and I’s shared room to change into something comfy. After changing, I walk back down and see Y/N wide awake.

“Hey babe” I greet and sit next to her.

“Hey.” Y/N says with no excitement in her tone. Oh no.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. 

“Anna told me this morning that we aren’t a good match. She said that you’re in a famous band and that you’re traveling here and there whereas I live a simple life. She kept on going and said that you won’t have time for me. She told me that your job wasn’t stable and that nothing will happen to you if your band thing doesn’t work out in the end.” she says in one breath. 

Wow. That’s a lot to take in. I take her hands in mine and look at her straight in the eyes.

“Listen to me. We’re a good match. Don’t listen to anything they’re saying. They’re trying to break us up. That won’t happen, because I won’t let that happen. And even if the band doesn’t work out, I’ll still find a way for both of us.” I assure her.

“Really?” Y/N looks at me with those Y/E/C eyes that I love so much.

“Really.” I smile.

* * * *

A/N: Sorry if the ending wasn’t what you expected. I did my best.

Lmao reblog if you liked it