#me: he gonna be angriest bitch of all time

[rainbow--panic]

Hi!! Can I get Dutch, Arthur, and Hosea with a male (or gender neutral) s/o who’s a very angry Russian?

Please and thank you :]

Hello! Hope you like this!

Pairings:Dutch,Hosea,Arthur x Russian!Reader

Warnings:Hosea is a freak and the author is hilarious

Dutch

It was not love at first sight, or second or third or anything after that. When Dutch first met you, you had just been involved in a bar fight, with men all knocked out around you he felt like allowing you into the gang would be a risk worth taking. When he had gone up to you he did not expect you to be the angriest, and only russian, he had ever met. Once Dutch was able to calm you down enough, he had explained himself and soon enough you joined the gang. Dutch always trusted you, you were his right hand, next to Arthur. Over time he knew he could trust you with anything, his protection, his money, his hopes, his dreams, and most importantly, his feelings. 

It happened long after you two had known each other. One day the two of you go out drinking alone in some back hick town. You were letting off some stress that had been building up and the both of you got a little too drunk. For a majority of the night in the saloon the two of you were having a grand time, until you both went out in the back for some fresh air. Dutch looks at you and says "Ya know, you are the best gunner I have" He put his hand on your shoulder, mainly to steady himself so he didn't fall down. "And I would love to be with someone in marriage like you someday" He laughed. All you did was cock an eyebrow and say "Well I am someone like me" This seemed to have thrown Dutch off as the way you said it wasn't slurred at all, making him think he hadn't actually been drinking with you all night long. However everyone knows that russians actually getting drunk is a myth told to you by the government.

And that's the story of how you two got together. Though it took some time for him to tell the gang, it's safe to say that 50% were shocked, the other 49% saw it soming, and the 1% were mad as hell, the 1% being Molly. While most of your time is spent in camp, at night Dutch will sometimes close his tent flaps so the two of you could get some private time or he takes you on short trail rides. While we see how Dutch treats Molly in game, safe to say he treats you nothing like that, because deep down in his heart Dutch knows that you can milly rock his shit.

Arthur

Arthur met you when Dutch brought you back to camp. Dutch had told him to keep an eye on you. For a majority of the next few months you were there, you kept to yourself, only talking to a small number of people. If you weren't working or hanging around, you could often be found terrorizing Micha. Lets just say that if Michca wanted to 1v1 a russian, he was gonna be someone's bitch by the end of the night. The first time Arthur had to break you up it was only because Dutch told him so. And after watching you beating the shit out of micha while he was pinned to the ground he had decided he had enough entertainment for the day and pulled you off of him only for Micha to go running for the hills, literally, he avoided camp for days.

After a while you and Arthur got some quality time together going on robbing expeditions. You were always quick by his side and you could beat some mean ass. One time the two of you were pinned down, Arthur got shot in the shoulder by an O'Driscall and you were running out of bullets fast. That's when you get the idea to run out, hiding behind different covers momentarily, raced to Arthur's side, picking him up, and bolted for the woods where you threw him on your horse and got the hell out of dodge.

Arthur had actually admitted his feelings to you one night after these robberies. He had told you that he didn't want these feelings to interfere with jobs so it would be best to tell you so hopefully they would stop. You reciprocated these feelings because if you didn't you wouldn't be reading this right now. You two decided to keep it secret from a majority of camp, the only people yall told was charles, lenny, and john, but sean found out and had surprisingly kept his mouth shut. Whenever he has time, he will usually find a secluded spot to take you to, or if everyone is fast asleep, the two of you would go not too far off from camp to finish any business. 

Hosea

When he had met you, Dutch had just brought you in. In fact he introduced himself to you as soon as you got off your horse. He didn't know much but he knew a few Russian phrases, some of the phrases he confused with german. Hosea took a great interest in you from the start, which you had found odd as not many people are interested in a scary angry russian, in fact because of all the russian stereotypes, people often picked fights with you.

Over the time you had been there, hosea learned more about you than anyone ever had. You taught him some Russian and even a few things from back home. You shared your hardships and he even helped you with some english phrases you couldn't understand, like "There is no cow on the ice" and "To set the dogs on someone" and things like these make you think that it is a miracle anyone learned the english language.

Though Hosea didn't hide his feelings towards you, if he did he didn't do a good job of it, you never had the nerve to ask or confess your own. It was actually on one of your many fishing trips that he confessed. He was reeling in a small mouth bass at the time when he told you how he viewed you as more than just a member of the gang, more than just a friend, and more than just a business partner. Hosea told you that he would like it if the two of you could go on to be something more, but he understood if you didn't feel the same way. That is when you admitted to him that you knew how he felt but you wanted him to say it first. You said "I share these feelings that you have for me, I was just....how you say.... not right about the way to walk it" he understood what you meant. The rest of the fishing trip he told you of all the places he wanted to take you to, all the events he wanted you to see that he knew was going to be happening in some towns, then he went further and told you all the things he wanted to do with you privately to which you grabbed your bag filled with fish and ended the fishing trip with a red face. Hosea made sure everyone in camp knew not to bother you, even told micha he's not allowed near you or he would be kicked out of camp.

[ipsen]

"Go on. Ask" is the most lovely and slightly intimidating ask box title I have ever seen and I'm happy to have a chance to mention it now ALRIGHT 1, 4, 10, 14 for etoken and 15. Hopefully that's not too many, I love hearing your thoughts.

I came up with it last second! I was gonna go with an egregious misspelling of "question" but remembered that English is the most cursed language on the planet and chose something else.

ALRIGHT LET'S DO THIS. AFTER A READ MORE.

Character ramble: Eto

Wouldn't do anyone else.

This fucking bitch. Love her so much. She writes about tragedy, about loneliness, about being barred from the thing you want most. Each thing she has written, even the comedies, is the only window into her soul that anyone will ever get.

She inflicts suffering on the people who remind her of herself too much. People who are weak, angry, and down on their luck. And glass mirrors are so easy to shatter. So, like what she wants deep down (imo), she "saves" them. She sews suffering onto their skin, either with her words or literally sewing onto them.

She founded Aogiri, a militant ghoul organization that got tons of people killed, including its own members. It is responsible for so much violence and suffering in the world, barely putting itself above the likes of the CCG by never directly targeting civilians.

And yet, in the muck of sadness and sorrow and bloodshed, there are little glimmers of love and light to her. Little diamonds created from the pressure created by the corpses at her feet. Let's see:

Aogiri housing children is something that can easily go over your head. Is it ideal? No, but they are protected by some of the strongest ghouls in Tokyo, which is the primary objective. Can't have a world for ghouls without ghoul children to live past the adults.

She values life. It's actually one of the first things we learn about her, when she asks Tatara how many lost their lives in the 11th ward after the original Aogiri arc. She hates wasteful, purposeless death, which is the primary thing she is fighting against.

She is cruel to people who remind her of her, but there's a caveat to this. She is cruel to people who remind her of her who are also liars. Take Nashiro and Kurona, for instance, who are convinced they're Awesome because of their kagune and their survival of Kanou's process. They are not special, and Eto is aware of this, so she berates them for it, showcasing her overwhelming strength and cutting their delusions to pieces in a few short minutes. Cut to Hinami, who is very similar to Eto (orphan with every reason to hate the CCG). But Hinami doesn't lie to herself; she knows she weak and has to get stronger. And who is Eto to deny her the chance?

She has every reason to want to destroy everything. It's something Haise catches when he describes her writing: this desire to break it all. But that's not what she's doing. Because if she did, she wouldn't exist in the narrative; she would have died a long time ago. But instead, she's fighting against a system that works fueled off of people like her. To add to that, she wants "a world for ghouls" despite everything. To that end, she'd give her entire life and legacy for that world, one way or another.

One of the angriest, saddest, most self-hating characters in the TG's universe fights out of love.

4. What character do you (the asker) remind me of?

You are this strange amalgamation of Takizawa (profile), Furuta (your Content), and a sprinkle of Koori Ui (by assocation with Furuta). There is an understanding here.

I don't have anything else to add.

10. Hypothetical ghoul quinque

Lemme just remind myself of every single ghoul kagune in the series, no biggie...

Aha! Banjou. Why? Because he heals. Quinques are only ever seen inflicting copious amounts of violence on whoever or whatever is standing on the other side. Let me see some support roles!

And imagine the legendary "Healer Quinque". The advancement in medicine... Don't need iPS cells from no stupid "Dragon" kakuja. The answer's right in front of you!! Shinohara would've woken up in two weeks, I'm telling you.

14. EtoKen song

Fall Out Boy's "Just One Yesterday" is an absolute delight for the two of them. The lyrics are a wondrous mix of lost love, self-awareness of toxicity and self-hatred, and just hatred (which is just more self-hatred tbh) toward the other in general, with a healthy edge of violence that Tokyo Ghoul is famous for.

Also, it's a duet, and they're singing about the same thing. Also, I love duets.

Favorite lyrics from the song include:

If I spilled my guts The world would never look at you the same way And now I'm here to give you all of my love So I can watch your face as I take it all away

(sound familiar?)

I want to teach you a lesson in the worst kind of way

(SOUND FAMILIAR??? The chorus is particularly good for them)

I don't have the right name or the right looks But I have twice the heart

(it's this specific tittering on the line (i love you, but i really fucking hate myself, but I see myself in you?) between hatred and love that defines the ship)

15. Favorite manga panel

NOT TO BE COMPLETELY FUCKING PREDICTABLE BUT!!!

This panel. Drives me insane. Every single time. It altered my brain chemistry in the best way possible. TWICE. Once when it premiered, and again when I reread this whole series on a whim. This is the most gentle/intimate Eto will ever be with someone, and he doesn't even give a shit. It's the perfect encapsulation of her entire life, in three short panels.

As for the original TG:

This was the wildest fucking thing when it premiered. I lost my goddamn mind at this chapter.

OKAY SO I'M GONNA BREAK IT DOWN.

There's three (3? III.) meanings behind this WILD dialogue. It's a fakeout is the obvious one, and the second meaning is that it's actually metaphorical while being pseudo-literal.

But the THIRD meaning is theory territory. As always, I gotta bring up my favorite little sweetheart, Eto. She was Arima's original quinque; her being the original candidate for OEK makes way too much sense, and here, Arima is officially putting this new toy (Kaneki) on trial to be a replacement. This later comes full circle when Kaneki breaks the Owl quinque and solidifies his position.

STORYTELLING IS AWESOME DON'T YOU THINK?

WHEW. What a loaded post. Thanks for asking!

[interstellar-changkyun]

you’re jealous | monsta x ot7 reactions

maybe some smut ;)

shownu | son hyunwoo

shownu has been going on variety shows to promote the group’s latest comeback and the female hosts and guests always comment on his looks

it doesn’t bother you usually, you know he’s handsome and love when he gets all flustered from the attention, but you don’t like how the hosts feel up his arms and ogle him when he performs a part of the choreo

they continue to dote on him and jealousy crawls up your throat and takes over your body as you wait for shownu to come home

he comes home earlier than usual and you would be happy if the images of women touching up his arms weren’t flashing in your mind, clouding your vision

he greets you with a kiss to the cheek and your arms are crossed and you’re pouting, still quiet

only when he’s setting down his stuff does he ask what’s wrong giving you time to look away from his sweaty chiseled chest and focus on your anger

“i saw the show today.” a beat of silence

“oh? was it fun?” he was almost done now as he grew closer to you

“it would’ve been if those women weren’t touching you up...” shownu found it adorable when you were jealous so he couldn’t help but put his arms around your waist and pull your back to his chest, resting his head on your shoulders. you could feel his muscles against you, was he not wearing a shirt any more? it didn’t matter you were angry

“i told them to stop but they cut that out of the show...” your anger subsided, of course he did. you turned in his arms then, properly looking him in the eyes for the first time today.

“good.”

“you’re cute when you’re jealous,” he kissed your nose and you blushed, for a second he thought he outta make you jealous more often but he couldn’t bare even trying to give anyone that kind of attention when he had you. “let me make it up to you,” he started kissing your lips then, his hands roaming down your body as the found your ass and lifted you up, instinctively your legs went around his waist

he was sweaty so u offered to shower with him to save water of course, he thanked you for that with his actions...

wonho | shin hoseok

wonho was performing WITH YOU and you couldn’t help but feel jealous as the beautiful female dancer moved in synch with him and his hands traced her body

you rarely got jealous, he did that enough for both of you, but you couldn’t help it when fans were saying how good they looked together and of course they didn’t know he was already taken

the tweets, instagram posts, even tiktoks of them together consumed you and you finally came to your breaking point when wonho came home from the music show

“enough hoseok i can’t take it any more!”

“what’s wrong?” he had never seen you so upset, a mix of frustration and sadness adorned your face

“you and your dancer, everywhere i look online i just see you two together and i know it’s not real but when everyone’s telling you they would be good together i-“

“baby they don’t know what’s real and what’s for the performance, at the end of the day i came home to you and love you, i don’t even have her number on my phone much less have her saved as my lock screen like i do you,” wonho grinned and you felt the anxiety leave your body slowly. he always knew how to calm me down and when he realized you weren’t as mad he opened his arms for a hug which you fell into with a small pout still on your face

“can i make it up to my baby?” you didn’t know what he had in mind and you certainly didn’t expect being handcuffed to your bed frame screaming his name as he ate you out until you came...three times

kihyun

kihyun wasn’t naturally flirty, just too kind to know he could be perceived as flirty so when a girl trips in front of him and he helps her up like the gentlemen he is she gets the wrong idea and starts flirting with him...in front of you

you let it go on as he obliviously responds to her intrusive questions, you were grateful she didn’t recognize him with his mask and beanie on but you still felt your possessiveness rearing it’s ugly head

“we need to get going honey,” you cut in, having had enough of this girl just when she’s about to ask YOUR boyfriend for his number and she stutters and apologizes, you just mutter an okay as you grab kihyun’s hand and walk away

kihyun laughs as he catches up to you

“aww someone got jealous.”

“not jealous just annoyed, how could you not tell she was flirting?” you frowned at him and he smirked, oh no he’s gonna tease the hell out of you now

“i can only tell when you flirt with me, but what if i was flirting with her? would you get mad? and if i fucked her?” he whispered the last part, since you were still very much in public.

“kihyun,” you groaned as his hold on your hand tightened. you knew where this was going, knew exactly what this tone in his voice would lead to. but honestly you didn’t care, not when you were just as territorial as him and wanted to feel like his in the most physical way.

“would you beg for me back?” kihyun, pulled you flush against him and whispered into your ear and you couldn’t help but hold onto his shoulder for strength, he knew what he did to you.

“you know i would.”

“you look so pretty when you beg, maybe i’ll go get her number.” you were whining at this point, still very much in public, he drove you crazy.

“fuck me please kihyun.” and that’s all it took before you were rushing to the nearest bathroom like a bunch of horny teenagers, and kihyun was making you cry and scream his name.

minhyuk

being an mc on a music show meant he interacted with lots of idols and you always anticipated the influx of delusional fans assuming he’s dating any girl idol he has any interaction with but one day is different from the others

he’s doing his usual mc duties but this kpop idol is staring at him intensely, even as going as far as telling him he’s handsome

she’s much older but it doesn’t stop the influx of tweets and comments

minhyuk is handsome you know that, anyone with eyesight can see that so when he comes home you can’t help but be grumpy

you can’t be mad at him you know that but your feelings are your feelings

he knows as soon as he’s home what’s making you grumpy

“babe i can’t help it!”

“ i know it’s just-why are you so handsome??? cover your face or something argh” you’re not really angry at him and he knows that as he kisses your face until the pout drops from your lips and he kisses you

you’re still feeling annoyed so you make it a point to show minhyuk just how much he is yours as you are his, making him scream your name all night long

hyungwon

like kihyun he doesn’t realize people assume he’s flirting when he’s kind just because he’s handsome

you’re out with him in vacation in greece and hyungwon is helping these japanese tourists with directions because he overhears them being confused about the hotel names, they assume he’s flirting with them since they don’t see you standing, waiting for him under the shade of the store front

hyungwon politely declines their offer to join him back at their hotel and you unfortunately hear the entire conversation, not once did he mention you

you scoff and walk off as he walks back to you, his eyebrows raising in shock

“woah what’s wrong?” he catches up to you with ease, damn his long legs.

“why don’t you go ask your new friends since i don’t exist?” you glare at him and he smirks, the handsome fucker smirks

“jealous babe?”

“why would i be, not like i’m your girlfriend or anything.” you grumble and he laughs at how you’re the angriest he’s seen you in a while. the last time you were this angry it was at netizens for attacking him over some dumb thing.

“i didn’t tell them because they could have recognized me and that wouldn’t have been good for anyone,” that made a lot of sense, maybe you had reacted too strongly. you might just be angry about other people flirting with what’s yours more than anything.

“you’re hot when you’re angry though, maybe i should do that more often.” you stopped in your tracks and narrowed your eyes even more at him, you pulled him into the side alley, pushing him against the building side.

“you won’t.” you shut up with a kiss and he was smirking into your kiss, his hands roaming down your body and you had to pull away and remind yourself you were not in your hotel room. after that you both stumbled and practically ran back to your hotel.

jooheon

jooheon is pretty well known for his unabashed displays of aegyo and so when he goes on a variety show it’s not surprising he’s asked to do it

unfortunately this show is hosted by a female idol and her reaction sends netizens into delusional theories that the two are surely dating

you’re so upset by the rumors and allegations that you start to believe them so when jooheon sees you two days after the rumors started you’re crying at your place

he’s so worried he pulls you to him automatically and asks repeatedly what happened and what’s wrong, not even thinking for a second it could be related to the rumors

finally you manage to stop crying and get out, “it’s okay if you love her too if she makes you happier i’ll understand.”

“what the hell are you talking about?” jooheon is so dumbfounded by your statement he stops soothing you and this makes you go back to crying

“you and that kpop idol on the variety show it’s all over the internet.”

“you idiot i would never date much less love anyone other than you.” you just stop crying at look at him through your tears, which you furiously wipe away again and see the sincerity on his face.

“oh.”

“yes oh i can’t believe you even believed them.” jooheon scoffs and gets off the bed you were both sat on, and then out of nowhere he picks you up and takes you to the bathroom

“we’re taking a bath so my baby can feel better,” the relaxing bath turns to a little more when he can’t but show how much he missed you the past couple days and just how much he loves you more than anyone else

I.M | im changkyun

people expected changkyun to be the bad bitch in your relationship, he had sharp features, a deep voice, piercings, and an amazing body but everyone who knew you both knew you were the one who would slice a bitch

especially if a random girl is trying to dance on your man in the one nightclub everyone knows he’s taken in, this nightclub had cut some kind of nondisclosure deal with the idols and their companies but clearly this girl was new, however, that didn’t mean you would hold back

changkyun winced as she started to dance on him and backed away, but she was persistent as she turned around and tried again, he waved his hand in front of her, clearly disinterested

you didn’t want to step in but as you monitored the situation where you danced with jooheon you could tell changkyun was struggling to remain polite

but you didn’t have a reputation to maintain and you certainly weren’t as calm and collected as your boyfriend

in a couple seconds you were wedging yourself between her and your boyfriend

“i’d back away sweetie,” you painted on your best fake smile and changkyun let out a sigh of relief.

“who are you?” her voice and tone was unpleasant, it was all too unpleasant especially when you were trying your best not to break her

“i’m his girlfriend,”

“let’s let him pick,” she shoved you away and stepped closer to changkyun, and that’s when you know you’re about to end up at the police station...again

changkyun stops you by grabbing your waist and hauling you over his shoulder as you’re lunging for her hair

shownu appears out of nowhere and asks the girl to kindly fuck off in the way shownu just knows how to do

when you’re outside and the driver has pulled up to the club, changkyun sets you down, he looks partially amused but mostly concerned

he knows you hate it when other people flirt with him just like he has to stop himself from breaking the jaw of any guy who dances on you at the club

he pushes the hair out of your face and looks at you fondly, you just nod at him to let him know you’re okay, too lost in his eyes to find words at the moment

and then the driver is opening the door for you and you both shuffle into the very back row of the minivan

changkyun presses a kiss to your temple, and you lean into his side

“you’re so fucking sexy when you get like that, i know i shouldn’t encourage it but fuck,” changkyun whispers into your hair and you shiver as his deep voice sends chills through you, you let your hand travel from its place on his lap to where the leather of his pants is becoming strained

“don’t.” he hisses and you aren’t in the obedient mood as you look him straight in the eyes and continue your torture

you estimate you have about thirty mins to go to get home, the privacy screen between the driver and the back of the car won’t muffle all the sound of you both but you can at least remind changkyun who he belongs to

so when you’re done making him suffer in his leather pants, you unzip them and he’s hissing and grabbing your hand

“fuck babe,” you just smirk at him and then spit in your hand. changkyun groans and throws his head back against the headrest, soon enough you’re leaning down and taking him into your mouth and he’s whining your name in between strings of curses. you manage to finish him off before you even get home.

changkyun gets back at you and you’re sure the entire apartment complex knows his name now

[steve-harringtons-lover]

Your Worst Nightmare - Billy Loomis

Fear bubbled in Lilith's stomach. "What did you say?" Lilith said. This phone call wasn't as amusing as it was before. "I said I want to know who I'm talking to." The voice tried to cover up what he had said before that. "That's not what you said." Lilith mumbled. "Look, my friend and I are about to watch a movie, so I have to go. Goodbye." There were angry complaints on the other line, but Lilith paid no attention to them as she hung up. Casey stood up from her place by the television.

"What's the matter, Lilith? You look like you've seen a ghost." Casey joked. It was true, the color from Lilith's face had drained completely. "Nothing, I just forgot about the popcorn." Lilith replied as she quickly locked the patio doors. "I'm gonna go check on it." Lilith smiled nervously before walking to the kitchen. Casey watched her suspiciously, but dismissed the ordeal by bringing her attention back to the tv that had finally started working.

Lilith was walking through the hallway when the phone in her hand rang again. "Shit." Lilith muttered. She answered the phone as she checked to make sure the doors in the hallway were still locked. "Yes?" Lilith asked as she entered into the kitchen to see if the popcorn was ready. "I told you not to hang up on me." The raspy voice rang through Lilith's ears. "What do you want?" Lilith said sternly. "To talk." The voice calmly stated. "Well then dial someone else." Lilith said before she hung up. She was about to grab the popcorn off the stove when the phone rang in her hand again.

"Listen, asshole-" Lilith was cut off by the dark voice. "No, you listen you little bitch! You hang up on me again, I'll gut you like a fish!" The calm voice was nonexistent now and was replaced with the most angriest tone Lilith has ever heard. "Ha, yeah." The voice was now calm, and sounded amused at Lilith's silence. Lilith backed away from the stove and bumped into the island behind her.

"Is this some kind of joke? If so, it isn't funny." Lilith spoke, fear laced in her voice. "More of a game, really. Can you handle that, doll?" Lilith quickly ran into the living room to see Casey sitting in one of the chairs. "What's wrong?" Casey was alerted by the look on her friends face. She quickly stood up. "Lock the doors and windows. Hurry!" Lilith whispered. Casey ran to lock all the doors. Lilith quickly went to lock the front door before peering through the small windows at the top of the door. Casey soon joining her with tear stained cheeks.

"Can you see me?" The voice asked. There was no one there, and it wasn't helping that it was dark outside. Casey took the phone from Lilith's hand. "Listen, we are two seconds away from calling the police." Casey spoke. "They'd never make it in time. We're out in the middle of nowhere." The voice spoke as Casey walked away a little to look out a window while Lilith stayed at the door, too frightened to move.

"What do you want?" Casey whined. Lilith didn't hear what the voice said, but it couldn't have been good as more tears slipped from Casey's eyes. She hung up the phone, and both girls backed away from the door, shaking with fear. The door bell rang making both girls jump and yelp at the noise. "Who's there? Who's there?" Casey called out to the door. Lilith jumped for the phone to call the police, but right as she picked up the phone it rang.

Lilith answered the phone. "You should never say who's there. Don't you watch scary movies? It's a death wish. Might as well come out here to investigate the strange noise or something." The voice complained at Casey's dumb decisions. "Look you've had your fun now, so I think you should better just leave now or else." Both Lilith and Casey backed away into the living room. "Or else what?" The voice asked in a challenging tone.

Casey stole the phone from Lilith's hand. "Or else my boyfriend is going to be here in any second and he'll be pissed when he finds out." Casey said. "I thought you didn't have a boyfriend?" The voice asked loud enough for Lilith to hear. "I lied. I do have a boyfriend. And he'll be here in any second, so your ass better be gone." Casey pleaded with creepy phone guy.

"Sure." The voice said, not believing a word Casey says. "I swear. He's big and he plays football and he'll kick the shit out of you!" Casey yelled, trying to scare away the person behind the voice. "I'm getting scared. I'm shaking in my boots." The voice spoke calmly. Casey's attempt failed. "So you better just leave." Casey pleaded while she held her stomach.

"His name wouldn't be Steve, would it?" The voice said, the little color that was left on Casey's face had drained. Lilith began to worry. If they had Steve, did that mean that they had Billy too? "How do you know his name?" Casey quivered. "Turn on the patio light." The voice said like he had a scowl on his face. Lilith walked over to the switch and turned it on. "Oh God!" Casey yelled. There was Steve Orth tied to a chair and looked like he had been beaten up.

Lilith took the phone from Casey's hand while Casey tried to open the door. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." The voice said which sent shivers down Lilith's spine. Casey closed the door and locked it again. "Where are you?" Lilith muttered as she watched her friend cry for her boyfriend. "Guess. That all depends on you." The voice said. "Why are you doing this?" Lilith asked. "I wanna play a game." The voice said, sounding more angry. "No." Lilith shook her head. "Then he dies right now." The voice threatened, sounding like he has gone off the rails.

"No! No!" Casey shook as she cried. "Which is it?" The voice asked. "Which is it?" The voice said more sternly after Lilith didn't answer. "Fine, we'll play your little game." Lilith said. She was no longer afraid, she finally stirred up enough courage to talk back to this guy. "Turn off the light." The voice demanded. Lilith gave Casey an apologetic look before turning off the patio lights. Muffled yells could be heard from Steve, but there was nothing the two girls could do.

"You'll see what kind of game." The voice spoke. The two girls sat beside each other in between the television and the wall, holding each others hands really tight. "Here's how we play. I ask a question, if you get it right Steve lives." The voice instructed. "Please don't do this." Lilith pleaded, not knowing what kind of questions he was going to ask.

"Come on it'll be fun. Its an easy category. Movie trivia. I'll even give you a warm up question." The voice persuaded all the while Casey was silently crying pleas. "Name the killer in Halloween." The voice demanded. "Uh, um.." Lilith didn't think well under pressure. "Oh, come on. You know this one. The guy in the white mask who stalks the babysitters." The voice said in a almost playful tone. "Michael Myers." Lilith mumbled. "Yes! Very good!" The voice shouted in triumph, seeming to be proud of Lilith.

"Now for the real question." The voice said in it's usual stern tone. "No!" Casey called out. "But you're doing so well! We can't stop now." Casey stole the phone from Lilith. "Just leave us alone." Casey said. "Then answer the question." The voice said bluntly. "Same category. Name the killer in Friday the 13th." The voice instructed. "Jason! Jason! Jason! Jason!" Casey stood up as she yelled the answer. Lilith quickly stood up beside her. "The killer was Jason's mom, Casey!" Lilith whispered frantically. "I'm sorry that's the wrong answer!" The voice shouted.

"No it's not! No it's not! It was Jason!" Casey said as both girls now looked out the patio doors. "Afraid not! No way." The voice rang through the phone. "Listen, it was Jason. I saw that movie 20 god damn times!" Casey yelled into the phone. "Then you should know Jason's mother, Mrs. Voorhees, was the original killer. Jason didn't show up until the sequel. I'm afraid that was a wrong answer." Casey cried while Lilith looked around for any sign of movement that might give a hint as to where this guy was.

"You tricked me." Casey muttered. "Lucky for you there's a bonus round, but poor Steve. I'm afraid he's out!" Steve's yelling could be heard, then the sound of a knife alongside the sound of fabric ripping could be heard. Casey cried out as she turned on the patio light. Steve was still tied up, but was no longer living as blood covered his torso. Lilith took the phone as her friend shrunk back into their hiding place. "Hey, we're not done yet." The voice penetrated fear into Lilith, but she swallowed it down to replace it with bravery.

"Final question. Are you ready?" The voice asked as Lilith tried her best to comfort her friend. "Bring. It. On." Lilith said through gritted teeth, thinking that it was going to be another movie question. "Which door am I at?" The voice asked. "What?" Lilith's voice shook with disbelief. "There are two main doors at your house, the front door and the patio doors. If you answer correctly, you live. Very simple." The voice spoke like this was just a game. Which it was a game, to him at least.

Casey grabbed an envelope opener off the top of the television for protection. "I don't know." Lilith muttered. "Your call." The voice said before the patio doors were shattered to pieces by a chair. Casey screamed as she ran off towards the kitchen. Lilith had been knocked out by the chair as it hit her head making everything go black. The last thing she saw was a white ghost face mask peering over her.

____ _ _ _

(Hope you enjoyed this chapter!!)

[hufflepuffhollander]

5 times it didn’t, 1 time it did: tom holland imagine

a/n | this is my first submission for @hollandsrecs​ 1k bingo event! the prompt was “5 times, 1 time”, a concept you’ll soon understand! I really enjoyed writing this and got really in my Feelings™ listening to Mean it by Gracie Abrams (give it a listen). 

summary: Tom keeps missing his chance to make things right with you after rumors spread about an affair with one of his costars. 

tom x fem reader | contains angst for days, language, and resolution fluff | word count: 2.2k | enjoy!

“I can’t believe you.”

“What, what can’t you believe?”

“You told me you’d never let the tabloids come in between our relationship.”

“As far as I’m concerned, they haven’t. You’re still sitting here, aren’t you?”

“In our apartment? Seriously?”

“What do you want from me?”

“To call your publicist or your manager or whoever the hell will be able to shut all this shit down.”

“It’s the internet, y/n. You can’t ‘shut it down’. What’s out there is out there.”

“Why are you being so apathetic about this?”

“Why is it such a big deal?”

“Half the country thinks you’re dating your costar and that I’m a desperate sidepiece.”

“You know you’re not.”

“But they don’t.”

“So?”

“Is it so hard to come out and say that it’s not true?”

“People will think what they want regardless of what I say.”

“You know what, fuck this.”

You got off the couch, throwing your hands up in defeat.

“I don’t know why I have to try so hard to convince you to make this relationship a priority.”

Tom sighed heavily, starting to get off the couch and follow you out of the room, but receded and stayed planted. He wanted to say something that would make you turn around and come back, something to figure it out. To tell you that you were a priority, really his first one. But he didn’t know how to say that, and he stayed silent.

He could’ve apologized, and he didn’t. This was the first time you’d ever walked out of an argument without resolving the problem and ending it with a hug and mutual I-love-you’s. It took all of your gathered strength to keep facing forward and walk further and further away from him, instead of running back, folding into his arms and seeking out the comfort that was his body heat. It epically sucked that he had the power to make you both the angriest and happiest you ever knew how to feel.

You and Tom went to sleep that night silently, staying a hundred feet apart in your queen sized bed, backs turned towards each other. You hated feeling the draft between your loose shirt and bare back — he hated not being able to fall asleep inhaling your shampoo with his head against the back of yours. You stayed awake listening to the silence, hoping he’d speak. Hoping he’d say he was sorry, that he’d fix it. But all he did was yawn, or sigh, or stretch out and pull his hand back like it had been burned when he accidentally grazed your arm. You were both miserable, but he still didn’t apologize, second opportunity to fix things passing by as soon as it had come.

The next morning, you woke up later than you meant to and couldn’t avoid Tom waking up next to you, making inevitable eye contact as you’d naturally shuffled closer together in your sleep, like your bodies were ready for a closure your minds weren’t ready to come to.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Your phone buzzed and you made the mistake of checking it. More and more notifications poured in from friends asking if you and Tom were still together, “who this costar bitch thought she was”, seeing how you were handling it. You realized still nothing had been done about it, and the same nasty feelings from the day before resurfaced anew. Tom saw your face drop and rolled onto his back, pretending to be interested in the ceiling.

“Plans today?” he asked.

“Just doing damage control and convincing infinite circles of friends that I’m not suddenly single and in a downward spiral behind closed doors,” you responded, sounding harsher than you meant to.

He put his hands over his face.  “If they really were your friends they wouldn’t have to ask,” he said bluntly. Your belly filled with a dull fire.

“Is that really the angle you’re gonna take right now?” you said, trying to ignore the tears preemptively pinpricking the corners of your eyes. Tom realized he had played the asshole card when he turned to see your face painted with hurt, and again, tried to spit out the words that he was sorry. But he didn’t, and his third chance flew out the open window. You shivered at the draft, and Tom went to instinctively wrap his arms around you, but stopped himself when you looked at him puzzled, as he couldn’t handle doing really anything when he saw how gray your eyes looked.

“y/n, I think this has gotten-“

“Save it,” you said, swiftly getting out of bed. You didn’t care to be insulted another time before 9 am, or feel your attachment to the love of your life sever a little more before you’d even brewed your coffee. You threw on the first thing you found, tied your hair up, grabbed your bag and then your keys.

“I’ll see you before the interview later.”

Truthfully, Tom’s talk show interview tonight was hours and hours away, but you wanted to avoid another emotional hit from him as long as possible.

Tom felt his chest sink as he heard the lock click after you. Why couldn’t he just apologize? Was it that hard? Sure, he didn’t agree with you. The tabloids always blew any gossip they could create out of proportion, turning every friendly hug between friends into a lover’s affair. But addressing it to the public only ever just fanned the fire. He didn’t want to give in to the pressure, but could see how it was starting to break you.

You walked into your flat with barely enough time to get ready after a long, tiring day of thinking and overthinking, wanting nothing more than to come home and be with your best friend, to cry to him about your problems and let him kiss and cuddle the pain away. Never before had he actually been the problem, though. That was uncharted territory, and you were afraid to see him tonight and face either inevitable fighting or excruciating silence. You met at the car and got in wordlessly. Only once you’d pulled onto the highway did Tom decide to speak.

“I think we need to talk about what’s been going on, yeah?”

“I guess so.”

“I just want you to understand that my not saying anything publicly doesn’t mean I’m not denying the rumors being spread. Staying silent is taking a stand, in a way.”

“In a way,” you said quietly. You really didn’t want to ruin your makeup before the show and hoped staying soft would keep the emotional floodgates from breaking open.

“I’m trying not to add fuel to the fire, love,” he said, placing a hand on your thigh. You stared down at that hand you loved and didn’t respond.

“I feel like I have no dignity left.”

He exhaled and frowned.

“Do you know what people are saying about me?” you squeaked without meaning to.

“I’ve told you to stop reading all those articles.”

“Right, because that’s the problem.” You rolled your eyes and moved your leg away from under his hand. He awkwardly placed it on the gear shift and didn’t dare to look at you for fear of breaking down himself.

“I just wish you’d stand up for me.”

“I’m doing it in my own way,” he trailed off. But that wasn’t good enough for you.

“And you can’t see that maybe that’s not enough?”

“I-“ He was about to say sorry — you could’ve sworn you hear the first syllable. But a car in front changed lanes and cut him off.

“Fucker.” 

After that wise remark, silence. Fourth chance to apologize up in smoke. You looked out the window and said nothing until you pulled up to the studio entrance. You saw lines of flashing bulbs of cameras, news trucks and reporters. Why did everything have to be such a thing? Tom cleared his throat and turned to you.

“y/n, love, go ahead and get out here and I’ll meet you inside.”

You looked back at Tom blankly.

“We’re not going in together?”

“I don’t want to subject us to all the paps out there,” he said, refusing to make eye contact. “If you go alone, my security team can cover you. They can’t cover us both.”

Your whole body felt cold. “Are...are you serious?”

It looked like telling you to face the crowd without him was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. So why was he doing it?

“I’ll meet you inside-“

You cut him off by loudly undoing your seatbelt and putting your heels on, shooting daggers at him the whole time.

“I should’ve stayed home.” You opened the car door and got out.

“y/n, I’m-” You slammed the door shut before you could hear the rest of his words. Five chances he had to make it right, five times he absolutely blew it. You weren’t sure this was something you even wanted anymore. How could you clearly mean so little to him when he was your everything?

~

“...and give it up for Tom Holland!” the audience cheered wildly at the sight of your boyfriend walking out on stage, shaking the host’s hand and waving with a bright-eyed and cheery smile at the crowd. You’d chosen a smart seat in the back so as to hide from anyone who might recognize you — you were not in the mood to socialize, and frankly, if Tom didn’t currently have the only set of car keys, you would’ve driven yourself home. You could see him scanning the audience until his eyes landed on you, and you stared at him with an expression completely unfeeling, blinking slowly until he turned away. 

He continued to woo the host and the crowd with his heartfelt answers and funny anecdotes, but even you were immune to his charm tonight. You felt detached, alone. You wondered how you’d spent so long with this boy who had no respect for you or how you felt.

“So, not to put you on the spot, but-”

“Uh oh,” Tom laughed, the audience along with him.

“No, no, bear with me,” the host chuckled. “I’m sure you’re no stranger to all the rumors going around about this relationship you’ve gotten into with your costar in the new Spiderman movie coming out next year, can you give us any inside scoop on that?”

Tom shuffled in his chair looking uneasy, running a hand through his already messy hair, a telltale sign that he was nervous. You hated how well you knew him.

“I mean, I don’t like to give into all the gossip,” he said, trying to play it off. “But if you want to talk about the movie-”

“We will, we will! But you know what we all really care about...” the host laughed, pushing Tom to keep talking.

“Look, we’ve all grown close on set, like a little family. And I can’t believe I even have to say this, but no, I’m not an item with any one of my costars, or fellow actors, or anyone famous for that matter,” his face started to splotch pink, and you sat up in your seat. What was he doing?

“Well sorry to pry-” the host started, but Tom kept talking, now faster, lips not able to keep up with his brain.

“The amount of stress all the rumors have put on me and the people I care about is insane and unfair, and nobody has taken it harder than my actual girlfriend, who is right there in the audience,” he said, and you cursed him for causing a hundred chairs to squeak as heads swiveled towards you. “It all has her constantly feeling hated and unimportant and questioning our relationship, which I can’t stand, because I love her more than anything, I do, and I hate to see her so upset when there’s just nothing I can do about people gossiping.” You hear scattered “aww”s come from around you.

“I’ve been quiet for too long about it, which I thought was the right thing to do. But I was wrong. She deserves to hear me tell the world that I am with her, and only her, and that’s not changing,” he says, finally taking a breath. Tom looks at you, eyes watery, and sighs, as the audience coos and applauds. He mouths a clear “I’m sorry” that only you see, and you feel that cold draft start to melt, letting yourself give him a small smile in return. He finishes the interview and you meet him backstage at the end.

When he sees you walking towards him, Tom picks up speed and pulls you into a hug immediately, both arms underneath yours, almost picking you up off the ground. You hate to admit it, but it feels so good to be back where you rightfully belong. You lean into his body and hug him back. He kisses your cheek and rests his face against yours. “You know how much I love you, right?”

“I know. You finally apologized.”

“I know.”

“Took you long enough.”

He pulled back and smiled at you, leaning in and kissing you softly. He cupped your face with both of his hands and wiped away a small tear that was harbored between your eyelashes.

“I’ll go on a million more talk shows and do it again if it means you’ll forgive me.”

“That’s a start,” you both giggle and he kisses you again. “Can we go home?”

“Of course, love.”

[tintinwrites]

i’d rather be lonely | Javier Peña x Reader | Part Eight

A/N: You all forgive me for the other chapters with this one, right?

Rating: 18+

Warning: Very passionate P in V sex on a desk in an office. Javier ain’t wrapped but is he ever? Please engage in safe sex with people. Naughty words.

Word count: 2,918, apparently!!

Summary: You and Javier are arguing now that you’re not distracted by success when you both, uh...explode.

Masterlist

GIF credit: @damerondjarin

Tags: @thedevilwearsvibranium @bisexual-space-slut @thirsty-flygirl @shadow-assassin-blix @damndamer0n @huliabitch @damerondjarin @perropascal @mylifeliterally @no-thanks-lol @dee-vn @jenniferdaniels12 @cinewhore @lokiaddicted @justabeautiful-letdown @shakespeareanwannabe @lackofhonor @katialvi​ @fangirl-on-bitches​ @im-an-angel-of-the-lord-you-ass​ @darkbluenovember

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

“It was all her. I was just there.”

Javier nodded to what was being said on the phone as he sat on the side of his desk, watching as you quietly finished up your part of the paperwork that needed done.

The office was empty aside from the two of you and he looked at you with the corners of his mouth nearly turned up into a smile as he hung up the phone. “You wanna go grab a drink?”

You glanced up at him from the papers and shook your head lightly, the smile on your lips looking a bit more mocking than it did friendly.

You didn’t answer him at first, signing your name and then standing up to put the paper in a file folder then put it in its proper place for it to be looked over.

“Are you looking for something to stick your dick in to celebrate?”

This made Javier pause, his brow furrowed slightly, because you’d been good for a minute and now the joy of success seemed to have worn off and you were right back to hating him. He couldn’t stand this, couldn’t deal with you viewing him like this when he didn’t know what he did that could fuck up the camaraderie you’d found. “What the fuck is your problem?”

You glared at the anger in his tone as if you weren’t jabbing at him all the time, rolling your eyes and moving towards the door to leave.

Javier let his arms drop from where they’d crossed over his chest, pushing off the desk and grabbing onto your elbow to stop you from walking away from him.

“I asked you a question.” He didn’t want to sound like this much of an asshole, but he wanted you to tell him what he’d done wrong rather than just bitch at him or ignore him.

“Why don’t you ask one of your whores since you seem to value them so much?” You spat, quickly yanking out of his grip.

“Is that seriously what this is about? You know I sleep around. I didn’t think it would matter with...with whatever the hell it was we were doing.” He threw his hands into the air as if your friendship or whatever it was could be seen if he gestured in the right direction.

“And I thought I’d misjudged you and you were a good man, but I was right when I thought you were a womanizing, disgusting asshole.” Your voice was starting to raise and you could tell by the rage in his eyes that his was about to, too. You’d always been good at pushing each other’s buttons like this.

“Having sex does not make me a bad person, you’re not gonna stand here acting like you’re a fucking virgin—”

“You’re not gonna talk about me in a sexual way like that or I’m going to report you.”

“I’m not! I’m just saying that you can’t stand here telling me I’m a bad person because I sleep around. I thought you were starting to see more than that in me.”

“And I thought you were starting to see more with me, but I was evidently wrong, so fuck you, Peña.”

The two of you didn’t realize you’d been moving closer until you were toe to toe, practically nose to nose, and you were far too pissed off to realize what you’d said. It took Javier a moment, too, before he thought over your words.

Did you just…

Was that why you were so upset about finding him with a prostitute? Was he right about you seeing him as more than a womanizer, but wrong about how much more? Did you bring the churros because you owed him or because you were trying to tell him something?

He was angry, and confused, and you were starting to turn away from him in a huff, and his first instinct was to grab you, pull you against him, and slam his lips onto yours.

Your hands went up to push him away, but when they moved to his shoulders, all you did was grip onto his shirt tightly, your lips slowly starting to move against his in the angriest, most passionate kiss you’d ever been part of.

It was like all the frustration you both let build up was being put onto each other now in a way that revealed its true nature; you, wanting him and only hating him now because he’d unknowingly broken your heart, and Javier, wanting you despite how much you infuriated and confused him.

You broke apart with a gasp, holding onto each other with more passion than rage in your eyes as you stared.

“I’d rather fuck you,” he admitted.

You wanted to fuck him, too. Beneath all the hateful retorts was a woman who’d entertained the idea with a man who was more than she thought, trying to hurt him because he’d hurt her and she was sure he was the man she’d assumed him to be.

But maybe he wasn’t.

That kiss seemed like more than him simply wanting to fuck you and cast you aside, and you realized as you stared at him in crackling silence that he’d kissed you when you accidentally said you thought he wanted more with you.

Maybe you were foolish or maybe you were finally doing the right thing as you admitted that you wanted him, too, with your hands gripping onto his hair tightly to yank him back towards you.

This kiss was even more passionate, your lips slamming against his as you tugged at his hair, his hands moving to your hips and pulling you tight against him.

There was definitely a bulge in his jeans that only turned you on rather than making you insult him for it, now seeing the evidence of him genuinely desiring you and letting yourself want him; or maybe you were just joining all the other women and fucking him because he was attractive.

You didn’t care, letting your hands roam all over him as his ran over you, both of you stumbling as you kissed again and again, until he was turning you to press your ass into the front of one of the desks.

He shoved every last paper and pen off the damn thing and you hopped up onto it, opening your legs for him to stand between, gasping when he pushed your skirt up and stroked up your thighs immediately.

You pulled away to hurriedly unbutton that red shirt of his that fit him so nicely, kissing along his chest with every new inch of skin you could see.

You didn’t realize how much you’d wanted to kiss and touch Javier until you were doing it.

His fingers brushed against the edge of your underwear and he smiled when he felt lace, tugging it down until it was around your thighs to admire the scrap of clothing. “Never pegged you as the type to wear something so pink.”

“Shut up and take it off me.” You tried to stay assertive even though you were thinking of him pinning you down to this desk and fucking into you, leaning back to watch him as he moved away just enough to pull your panties down your legs until they dropped to the floor.

“Am I the one who made you wet?” He was referencing the glimpse of the wet patch he’d seen in your panties, silently asking permission with his hand on your thigh, rubbing circles into your skin, pushing his hand up further to that still-hidden place when you nodded your consent.

Both of you moaned when his fingers first brushed against your slit; you because it’d been a long time and you wanted him more than you’d wanted any person in your life, him because you were so damn wet for him, so beautiful, so fucking sexy offering him a chance with you like this.

He found your clit with practiced ease, but it took him a moment to find the sweet spot there that made your hips lift off the desk in search of more friction.

Your little whines and the wiggling of your hips made him focus his attention there, stroking slow and firm circles into you, pretty sure he was going to bust through his damn zipper with how wet and needy you were on his fingers.

You noticed the way he was pressing into the side of your knee for some pleasure of his own and you tugged him closer by his belt, quickly unbuckling it then opening up his pants, shoving them down enough to free his cock.

The sight of him made your clit twitch, eyeing up his gorgeous dick then letting your eyes travel up to meet his dark gaze.

You ran your nails through the curls at the base of his cock and his eyelids actually fluttered, lips parting slightly as he pressed into your touch.

“I can’t believe you didn’t wear underwear in jeans on a stakeout.” You wrapped your hand around him, squeezing lightly when you felt his fingers moving down to trace your entrance.

“I can’t believe you wore a skirt.” He wasn’t complaining, though, eyeing the bunched up fabric and sliding a finger into you easily.

“I wanted to look professional unlike you.”

“I wonder how you would’ve explained yourself if those narcos saw you skulking around the yard in a two piece suit.”

There was something different about the banter now, lighter and almost playful, more desire than it was hatred or heartbreak. It was even more satisfying than the spiteful retorts you used to take solace in when the job was too much, finding that you enjoyed flirting with Javier much more than hating him.

You were enjoying this entire thing, pushing aside all the emotions in your head about how seeing that woman leave his apartment hurt you, why it did, the way you could tell by the moment he chose to kiss you that this wasn’t just a fling to him.

Right?

His finger curled and rubbed up against a spot inside of you that made your jaw drop, a moan falling from your lips that you might’ve been ashamed for him to hear at one point. Not now. You wanted him to know how much you’d really desired him.

“That good?” he asked, not nearly as smug as you thought he would be to be pleasuring you like this. He seemed to actually want an answer to be sure that you were enjoying this.

“I want you inside of me.” It was gasped out, all needy and desperate, knowing that being fucked by Javier Peña was probably going to be better than any man who fucked you before.

His dick twitched in your hand at this and you watched the precum beading on his tip, squeezing your knees around his hips.

He pulled his hand away from you, hands on your thighs as he pulled you further on the desk and moved in closer towards you, lining his cock up to your entrance only to drop his head down with a groan.

“What’s wrong?” You asked with a hint of nervousness that you didn’t picture, wondering if he was going to tell you he couldn’t do this because of all the hurtful things you said to him, or maybe tell you that he’d rather be fucking somebody else.

“No fucking condom.” He started to pull away with a growl out of respect for you probably wanting a condom since he usually didn’t care, but you hooked your legs around him to pull him back and he looked at you questioningly.

“I’m on the pill. It’s fine.” Now his cock was twitching against your thigh and you reached between you, guiding him back towards your cunt.

“I can pull out,” he said quickly, because he was pushing into you and you were so fucking tight, so fucking wet, that anything else he tried to say was just a moan.

You were just sitting there with your mouth hanging open, eyes closing and your brow furrowing as he filled you; it was a little bit of a stretch, but it was pleasurable and you didn’t realize you’d missed sex this much.

Maybe you didn’t, maybe Javier was just showing you sex you were going to miss.

Was this a one time thing? Was that what you wanted it to be? Did you want to sleep with him again and be more than sex?

You knew the answer, but you weren’t sure if it matched his.

He was able to push most of himself into you before he knew he needed to pause to let you adjust to his size, grabbing onto the desk and hunching over you a bit so he could press his head against your shoulder.

How the fuck was a man supposed to keep from blowing his load when you were whimpering and moaning into his ear like that? Fuck, he knew you were unbelievably gorgeous, but he never imagined sex with you would be this incredible and, well, sexy.

Javier prided himself on being able to last a pretty long time during sex, and he needed to pause inside you to stop from coming with the way your walls were squeezing and clenching around him.

Once he was able to pull back a little and you were starting to stroke over his shoulders and his arms rather than sit there in awe of his cock, he slowly pulled himself out of you and then just as slowly pushed back in.

Both of you moaned in unison, finding a place where you weren’t arguing or secretly pining, where the world was just the two of you wanting and taking each other without thought.

The more he thrust, the deeper his cock pushed into you, and he began to speed up his rhythm a little, pumping in and out of you with ease because you were that damn wet.

A part of him wondered how long you’d wanted him and figured it was around the time you started being unable to look him in the eye for more than a second, but that thought wasn’t exactly at the forefront of his mind when you were this good.

You were staring at his neck, something you might have admired on him once or twice in the back of your mind because it was so soft-looking, so thick…

He let out a low groan when you leaned forward and sucked hard right above his collarbone, leaving a mark on him that he was pretty sure everyone was going to see at work.

It turned him on to think of people seeing a hickey on him from you, and he was on you the moment you pulled away, sucking and biting and nipping on the side of your neck, his hips thrusting of their own accord at the gorgeous moan that you let out.

His head fell to the side and pressed into your shoulder as he fucked into you harder, his hand moving along your thigh until he found your clit again, rubbing circles into it and occasionally flicking at it. You would jump and moan each time he did it, which only made him touch you harder.

“Fuck, fuck, Javi, I’m so close.” You’d never been this close to orgasming this quickly with anyone, but Javier was damn good at this and you were enjoying this and you didn’t care.

You didn’t care that you hated him, you didn’t care that you’d been hurt by him, you didn’t care that you called him by his nickname like you were friends, you didn’t care that you were letting him inside you like this.

Because you didn’t hate him, and he wasn’t hurting you, and maybe you were friends, and, fuck, you should’ve let him inside of you a long time ago.

He was approaching his own orgasm if the way his thrusts were becoming a bit jerkier was any indication, but like hell he was going to come without making you fall apart on him.

“You gonna come for me, huh?” He was growling, teeth bared, fingers moving even faster and firmer against your clit as you fluttered around him. “I want you to come for me, show me what I do to you.”

“Yes, yes, yes...faster, Javi, please…” You grabbed onto his shoulders tightly, pressing your nails into them and making him moan.

The desk was rocking against the floor with each thrust, he was fucking you so fast and hard, fingers moving even faster on your clit, and then you were lifting your hips and crying out, your cunt clenching so tight around him that he was moaning with you.

His thrusts were sloppy and uneven and he just barely remembered to pull out of you where he spilled all over your thighs and skirt. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.” He was practically leaning entirely on you, one hand working you through your orgasm and the other jerking himself.

You both went silent aside from him panting into your shoulder and you panting against his hair, nuzzling into him like you were lovers or something.

When you slowly returned to the real world, you looked around the room then down at the two of you, leaning back a bit, not unhappy with fucking him even now that you weren’t only thinking about coming.

“Javier?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Isn’t this Steve’s desk?”

[restapesta]

The Tomato Thief

Enjoy this little something I wrote based on a prompt here on Tumblr. Feedback is always appreciated.

Words: 4.3k

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The first time Ian noticed his tomatoes half-gone, half-squashed from the small vegetable patch he had started working on when he and Mickey moved into the apartment complex, he chose to ignore it. Pretending as if the loss of his small, barely ripe cherry tomatoes was insignificant, he mentioned no word of it to anyone, making a conscious decision to simply start the planting process once again. So, in the past month, Ian, choosing not to get frustrated, but rather improve his skills, was trailing along the edge of a nervous breakdown, trying to get his little patch of land replenished. When he realized that the second time doing something he initially started as a hobby would be much more difficult than the first, he feared that what he intended to be relaxing would turn into aggravating. If it wasn't for the security business, he probably would've had a meltdown, very much hurt by the fact his poor tomatoes were gone, but somehow, he managed to power through it, luck being somewhat on his side, making the tomato-growing process faster than before. It was a long excruciating process, living with the secret that all of his previous hard work was now replaced by even harder work and determination, but the sight of his vegetable patch replenishing itself as if it were never ruined, along with the Westside growing even fonder to both him and Mickey, almost starting to feel like home, made it all sort-of worth it for Ian. His husband was happy, his home was beautiful, his business was expanding, and his tomatoes were finally turning a deeper shade of red, after being torn out the first time while they were mostly green. Ian was truly very much happy.

Until he woke up one Saturday morning, excited to start his weekend off by gardening, his way to relax from the crammed-up week he and Mickey had, both enjoying the little separate bubbles they created, together yet apart, Mickey with the pool he grew to love, and Ian with his veggies, working away in the Sun -- and found every single one of his tomatoes gone, neatly picked from their stems, as if done by a professional.

First, Ian had paled, his complexion turning impossibly whiter in the bask of the afternoon glow. Then, his left eye began twitching. Anger bubbled inside of his chest, and he finally understood his husband's urges to break chairs and signs, and throw tantrums -- Ian felt like murdering somebody. Wrapping his hands so tight around the neck of the person who took his tomatoes which weren't even ripe for taking yet, and squeezing until he saw the life leave their eyes. Scaring himself at the thought, he took a deep breath and then held it for a long period of time -- a questionable, dangerous, life-threatening period of time. He was sure that his neck and cheeks were even redder than his poor tomatoes were when he had last seen them. Exhaling quickly, he balled his hands into fists and made his way quickly to the vegetable patch to examine it better.

Crouching down, as if he were in a detective movie, he observed the soil, in case the culprit left footprints or accidentally dropped a valuable item Ian could use to identify them with. When he saw nothing helpful, but rather just his regular garden -- sans the lost reds -- he rolled over all of his options in his head. 

It could've been an animal the last time -- a squirrel or a bird, considering how a lot of the tomatoes were simply just squashed -- but now, the precision the tomatoes were picked with... there was no other possibility. It was one of the other tenants, somebody who deliberately wanted to either get revenge on Ian or simply to eat the vegetables Ian had worked so hard on for himself and his husband. It was ironic how he saw red.

Breathing deeply, composing himself more with each inhale and exhale -- a technique he had been forced to learn in court-mandated therapy -- the ginger made his way from the garden to the manager's office, strides quick. Melanie, the on-sight manager, was in the room, along with her poodle when Ian knocked on the door.

"Hi." She chirped in greeting. "How may I help you?"

Ian forced a smile. "I was wondering if you perhaps had cameras in the garden area? I think someone stole something I left there, by accident." He lied, not wanting the woman to think of him as even a bigger fag for caring about dumbass vegetable-fruits. Much to his dismay, she shook her head apologetically. 

"Sorry, no. Was it valuable?"

Yes, Ian thought sadly. "Nah. Probably just misplaced it. Thank you anyway."

She smiled again, "You're welcome. Say hi to your husband for me."

"I will." He waved goodbye and exited the office, closing the door behind him.

No cameras, no clues. He had no fucking idea how he could possibly catch the asshole who had the nerves to fuck with him. Suddenly, he understood what he needed to do. 

Mickey was lounging by the pool, sunglasses on, looking hot as fuck, enjoying the day when Ian found him. Stepping in front of the chair Mickey was sitting on, Ian blocked the beams of light which were hitting Mickey's body, slowly giving him a nice tan. Mickey begrudgingly opened his eyes to stare at Ian, pushing his sunglasses down slightly, as if wanting to give Ian a better look of his 'why the fuck are you blocking the Sun' expression. 

"What?" He finally asked, pushing his RayBans back up.

"Baby, I need your help killing someone."

Mickey's eyebrows scrunched up in confusion, assessing Ian's face for any sign of humor. When he found none, he blew out an exasperated sigh. "Why?"

"Someone stole my fucking tomatoes."

Ian could see Mickey's eyes close again behind the black glass. "Who?"

"I have no fucking idea. If I did, they'd already be dead. This is the second time, Mick!" He shook his head in disbelief. "First time, I let it slide. Thought it was a bird or some shit. So, I did everything again this past month, made sure everything was better than before, had a near fucking episode over the stress that shit caused me, and now, they get fucking stolen, again!" He was breathing raggedly now, even angrier than before. His shrink's anger controlling methods only worked for a short period of time, he guessed. "We need to kill them."

Ian sat himself down on the chair next to Mickey's, slouching back in defeat. His poor tomatoes. He felt his fingers intertwine with soft, warm ones, Mickey's thumb rubbing soothing circles over Ian's. "We can't kill them," Mickey started. Ian was about to respond how he knew that, how it still made him really fucking angry, but Mickey continued, softly, "without knowing who they are. Once we know who they are, we can slip rat poison into the tomatoes, and have 'em dead in a heartbeat. Can't even pin it on us, 'cause then they'd have to admit they stole it."

Ian's eyes widened slightly, amazed and terrified by his partner at the same time. "I forgot you were a murderer here for a second."

Mickey smirked at Ian's growing smile. "Parole for attempted murder, Red. Need I remind you? Did you forget how much that turned you on?" He was now inching closer to his husband, chin jutting out, seeking out a kiss. Ian complied, even in his angriest moments still horny for his worse half, moving his lips against Mickey's slowly and teasingly. 

"We can't kill them." Ian voiced out after they broke apart, now much calmer.

Mickey snorted, settling back in his chair. "No shit."

"We can find out who the fuck it is, though."

"How the fuck you gonna do that? All your tomatoes are gone, right? 'S not like you can just make new ones appear."

Ian thought about it for a second, "Who says I can't? I have my ways."

Mickey nodded mockingly. "Sure, tough guy. Is this the moment I find out I've been married to a wizard?"

"Store-bought tomatoes, Mickey." Ian deadpanned.

"Oh."

"We plant those, and then go on a stakeout." He was already devising a master plan in his head. How they would buy the tomatoes at WholeFoods -- get the expensive ones so the bait was even more tempting, make it look as if Ian grew them himself (even though that was impossible by the rules of time -- but the person had to be stupid enough to steal from a Gallagher after all, so it had to work), and then, wait tonight in the garden, considering how his tomatoes couldn't have been stolen at any other time of day, and try to catch the thief. It was a good fucking plan.

"Why do you keep saying we?"

The voice interrupted his daydream. Confused, Ian looked at Mickey. "You're not gonna help me?"

"Not my problem, man. They're your tomatoes. I'm only here for the murder part, but you backed out of that, so... good luck."

Ian was about to argue, but he thought better of it. Maybe it would be easier to do this alone anyway. Leaning forward, he pressed one last chaste kiss on Mickey's lips, then swiftly got up. "Okay, then. Text me if you need anything. I'm going out."

"Where are you going?" Mickey straightened up for the first time since Ian got there. Ian felt a smile form on his face. His husband was very easy to read.

"Tomatoes, Mick. But, um, not your problem, right?" His voice was teasing and he knew his eyes were glinting with an unspoken challenge. "Don't know if I'll be home tonight. The stakeout might last a while. Guess I'll see you tomorrow. Keep the bed warm for me, would ya'?"

He turned to leave, but Mickey's hurried voice stopped him. "Hey, wait -- hold on a minute."

"Hmm?" So, so easy to read.

Scoffing, Mickey got up. "Let me get changed first. Then, we'll go catch the fucking tomato thief."

The smile Ian gave him was blinding.

----

"Tell me the plan again?"

Mickey was currently observing the expensive as fuck organic fruit in the WholeFoods store, gawking at the prices, but also simultaneously observing his husband as he picked through the best, reddest tomatoes he could find. Between the bitching and the sadness, Ian was all over the place -- it was hard for Mickey to understand why Ian was going so crazy over stolen tomatoes, but the thought of having Ian spend the day doing God-knows what kind of legal and illegal shit made him almost break out in hives. He would rather come along to control the hot mess than "warm the bed" as Ian had so casually put it. Fuck if he was gonna keep anything warm but Ian's dick in his ass.

Ian ignored Mickey's question and shoved a tomato at his face. "Do these look good enough? I want them to look natural, but also really good. What do you think?"

Mickey gave Ian an incredulous look, "Um... those look great... man, just pick whatever the fuck you want. This guy probably isn't very picky if he stole a ripe tomato."

Ian rolled his eyes. "It was a high quality tomato, Mickey." As an afterthought, he added, "Also, it could be a she."

"Maybe it's that fag with the big muscles? Maybe he has a thing for your tomatoes?" Mickey teased, only slightly bothered by the crush the blond guy in apartment 243 had on his tall redhead. It wasn't hard to glance over the sultry looks he gave Ian, or the flirtatious tone. Mickey liked giving Ian endless shit for it, just because of how defensive and uncomfortable Ian got when it was mentioned. It was pretty funny.

"Ugh, God Mickey. Seriously?"

"What? Am I wrong?"

Ian rolled his eyes so hard, Mickey was afraid he'd be shocked by the emptiness he found back there in a moment. Instead, Ian simply grimaced. "That guy really needs to back off. I literally couldn't have flashed the ring in his face more bluntly."

Mickey, using Ian being distracted by the guy, tied the bag Ian had been filling with tomatoes, discreetly moving them away from the spot they'd been standing in the past hour and a half, and towards the cash register.

"If he continues with that shit, I'll just start making out with you in front of him. Should get the point across."

Mickey only hummed in acknowledgment, content with the plan. He hated PDA but Ian made it so natural at times, there was no way he could say no to it.

"Wait, how did we end up here?" Ian glanced around him, only now noticing they were standing in line for the check-out. Mickey shook his head at his husband, who he had to admit was a himbo through and through. "Well, at least we got the tomatoes. The rest is easy."

"What is the plan, anyway?" Mickey repeated the question from before. Now, Ian didn't ignore him. He smirked at Mickey and told him not to worry about it.

"Not to --?" Mickey stuttered. "Ian, your ideas are not top-notch ideas. If I'm gonna try and catch a vegetable thief with you -- which may be the faggest thing I've ever said -- then I need to know the plan."

"Okay, fine." Ian huffed out a breath. "In short, we put these as bait, lure the asshole in, and wait to catch them in the act."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"...that's it?"

"What do you mean?" Ian smiled at the cashier as he took out a ten dollar bill from his pocket, paying for the overpriced vegetables -- or was it fruit? Mickey didn't really give a fuck.

"What do I mean? I mean, this may be the dumbest pan I've ever heard. I mean, sure, the tomatoes are good, but what, you just wanna have a stakeout the entire night? You do know the guy probably won't steal them straight away? We need to give it some time. Work out the suspect list, make sure we know who we're looking for."

Making it out onto the streets of Westside, Mickey was pleasantly greeted by the spring air -- he wouldn't admit it yet, but the Westside was something he was adapting to quite quickly. What used to make him uncomfortable when they first signed the lease changed completely in the past couple of months they'd been living here. It wasn't easy, but as the furniture rolled in, and as the apartment started feeling more like home, the whole "middle-class" life sort of followed. Both Mickey and Ian were still major fucking Southside trash. But now, they were Southside trash that lived in a pretty nice place that didn't have too many murders and attacks per day. That way, when they did happen, it felt nostalgic for Mickey. More special.

"I keep forgetting who you are. Takes a thief to catch a thief, I guess."

"I love how high of an opinion you have of me, Gallagher." Mickey replied teasingly, choosing to take it as a compliment.

Ian smiled, wrapping an arm around Mickey's shoulders, "The highest, baby."

Endeared by the nickname, Mickey blushed slightly. "C'mon man. Let's get back to the apartment. We got a stakeout that needs planning."

Ian nodded, but the arm stayed put the entire way home. Mickey didn't mind one bit.

----

"What about the lady from apartment 193? The one with the weird-ass dog?"

"Ian, she's, like, a hundred years old."

"I don't know, Mick. Seems kinda suspicious."

They were sitting on their newly-bought sofa in the living room, beers in hand, discussing the potential suspect list. Ian had his phone out, writing the names of the possible culprits down, attempting to uncover the thief by the way the crime was executed. It wasn't going that well.

Ian's suspect list was a mile long, all ranging from old women who had complimented his tomatoes months ago, to the weird guy who gave him the stink eye when they first moved in for no apparent reason. "He's out to get me, Mick. I know it." Mickey had told him to shut the fuck up, and presented his own suspect list.

His was a little more realistic, containing names such as Alan who most certainly didn't like the couple -- "maybe the reason for that is the tantrum, Mickey." "shut the fuck up, Ian." -- and the chick whose daughter had a massive crush on Mickey.

"Maybe she thinks I'm some sort of pedo. Not cool, man."

"She would have called the cops, Mickey, not stolen my tomatoes. Also, the whole thing is pretty cute."

Mickey blanched. "She's fifteen! And has a crush on me."

"She's cute, acting all flustered when you casually say "good morning" to her. She probably doesn't even know we're gay."

The girl, Courtney, lived in the apartment a couple doors down from theirs, and her apparent crush on Mickey was beyond adorable to Ian. She was amazed by his thug appearance, and she made it clear in the way she greeted him whenever she passed by the couple, ignoring Ian wholeheartedly. Mickey hadn't even noticed it until Ian pointed it out one night, and when he did, Mickey grimaced and groaned, muttering about how he really didn't need to be the cause of some kid's daydreams.

"Her mother is out to get me. And the way to get me is through you -- everybody knows that."

Ian's chest swelled at the probably insignificant sentence in Mickey's mind. "Aww, Mick. That's really sweet."

"I am sweet."

"It's not the mother. We have to come up with something else."

"Ugh." Mickey groaned. "Why can't we just do this the old-fashioned way?"

Ian simply raised an eyebrow.

"Listen, you already planted the bait when we got back, we have somewhat of a suspect list -- now, we just set up the camera."

"Camera?"

"Yes, Ian. A fucking camera."

"Where the fuck are we gonna get a camera?"

Mickey rolled his eyes. "Carl? He's probably got access to those hidden camera thingies at work, right? We just have him snatch one for us. We'll give it back." He then added as an afterthought, "Maybe."

Ian thought about it for a second and then sighed. "Fine, we'll do it your way."

"Better than crouching in a bush of roses in the middle of the night, Ginger."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Ian agreed, texting Carl simultaneously asking for the 'camera thingy'.

"Also, I'd probably never, under any circumstances, do that shit. Doesn't matter how much I love you."

"Uh-huh." Ian smiled at Mickey, amused.

"I'm serious." He affirmed. "Never. No fucking way."

---

"I can't believe you made me do this shit." Mickey grunted as he crouched behind a rose bush, eyes trained on Ian's vegetable patch.

"Your plan didn't work, so we're doing it my way."

"Well, I didn't really plan for the camera to get fucking broken!"

Their thief was way more skilled than they had initially thought. After they got the camera from Carl, Ian hid it well, making sure it caught the asshole on tape once they attempted to steal his goods again. And when, a couple days later, his store-bought tomatoes were ruined again, this time, squashed deliberately in the garden, he was so happy Mickey had the bright idea to record it.

Until he found the camera squashed along with the tomatoes. It still worked somewhat, and when Ian saw there was a video on it, his hopes had immediately risen, only to be squashed like the poor tomatoes when he saw the video got cut off in the middle of the night, right before the murder had taken place.

"We are gonna do this my way. And then, we'll kill them." He had told his husband.

"Sure, man. The red blood will fit right in with the tomatoes."

"Stakeout."

"No, Ian."

"The sex you'll get if you do this with me will be nothing like you'd ever experienced."

Mickey scoffed, "Sure."

Ian gave him a look full of mischief, and leaned into his ear to whisper his intentions. "Three words, baby: handcuffs, blindfold, tongue. As someone who claims he doesn't like ass-licking, you sure as fuck make some sexy, loud noises when I try it."

And that's how Mickey was there in the garden, at three in the morning with Ian, his dumbass husband, waiting for the thief to appear. Ian had planted another bait, and decided to have a stakeout that night, after loudly flaunting to the other gardeners how good his tomatoes had grown -- "They'll take the bait, Mikhailo, stop giving me that look."

"The ground is really fucking cold, man. Can't believe you convinced me to do this shit. No sex is worth this."

Ian, in response, pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Mickey's neck. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah..." Mickey sighed in content. When Ian tried pulling away, he muttered, "No. Don't stop."

"Eyes on the tomatoes. You'll get your prize later."

Just as Mickey was about to protest, a figure appeared, inching towards Ian's vegetable patch. The couple stilled, eyes squinting, trying to see who the thief was -- who the fuck was it that had so easily crushed Ian's dreams of becoming a gardener, and had forced them to sacrifice their Friday night, crouching in the bushes instead of loudly fucking in their bed.

When the figure stepped even closer, Ian gasped. The culprit's face wasn't even covered and when Mickey saw who it was, he couldn't help it.

He laughed.

He laughed so hard, tears streamed down his face -- he wheezed at the sight they were greeted with. Ian hit his bicep roughly, but it was too late.

The girl had noticed them. She jumped in fear at the noise and her eyes zeroed in on the two men. Her young face paled and her eyes widened in fear.

"You!" Ian accused, jumping up to his feet, not as amused as Mickey was.

The girl jutted out her chin in defiance, not scared one bit. "Yeah. Me."

Ian stared at the fifteen-year-old. He had once considered her cute -- the crush she had on Mickey being nothing more but sickly sweet to him, perfect teasing material. But now, as he realized she was deliberately sabotaging his tomatoes because of, what? Jealousy? Oh, he was pissed.

"Why, Courtney? I've been working hard on those vegetables."

"Fruits." Courtney replied and Ian gaped at her, as Mickey kept on laughing.

"Not the point. Why? Are you jealous or something?"

"Why would I be jealous?" She asked, still acting tough for a girl who had just been caught in the act.

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Because..." She glanced at Mickey who was still on the wet ground, observing the exchange. "Your tomatoes look better than mine, and I was planning on giving Mr. Milkovich my tomatoes but it wasn't gonna work if yours looked better. So, I took yours."

Mickey busted out laughing again. This time tears were actually streaming down his face, clouding his vision. "Mr." Wheeze. "Milkovich." Wheeze.

Courtney looked down, embarrassed. "Maybe I was a little jealous. I just wanted to be noticed."

"Stealing my husband's tomatoes sure got you on my radar, kid." Mickey muttered, still laughing loudly. Perhaps too loudly for three in the morning.

Courtney stilled. "You guys aren't just... roommates?"

Ian shook his head. "No, married."

Her mouth formed an 'oh' shape, and for a moment they stood in silence. Then she laughed, sheepishly. "Well, in that case... I'm sorry?"

Ian was still on the verge of a mental breakdown, but he chose to remain calm. "Just don't do it again, please."

"I won't. I swear." She raised her hands in the air in surrender.

"Go home, kid. It's three in the fucking morning. You're way past hour bedtime." Mickey pitched in from his seat on the soil.

She nodded once again, muttering a quick "sorry", and then ran out of the garden.

Ian turned to Mickey, still shocked. "The root of all of this has been you."

Mickey just smiled. "Not intentionally."

"She wanted to give you her tomatoes. So she ruined mine."

"Your tomatoes are the only ones I care about."

"This better not be a metaphor for my balls."

"Oh, I like those too."

Ian grinned at his husband. "At least we figured out who it was." He put his hand out towards Mickey. Mickey got the hint and grabbed it, pulling himself up.

"Yeah. It was the little girl all along."

Ian snorted, still a little angry.

"How about now, you and I go back to our warm, comfy bed where you can tie me up and fulfill your promise."

"You're not tired?" Ian raised his eyebrow at Mickey.

The smile Mickey gave him was genuine. "For you? Never."

"Maybe I could fulfill my promise. It'd get my mind of off the tomatoes."

"You can always use me as a distraction." Mickey wrapped his arms around Ian's neck and pulled him down, slotting their lips together.

"I'll show you how to handle your tomatoes properly." Mickey teased and Ian all but shoved him  back to the apartment.

The sex that night was fucking amazing. Mickey realized he wouldn't mind playing detective again if this was the reward he got. Suddenly, Ian's wish to plant thise tomatoes was the best thing that could have happened to Mickey in the long run. He wasn't surprised, though.

Ian really knew how to make the most of everything for Mickey. It was probably why he loved him so much.

This was a night Mickey would probably never forget.

[r3b3lgrrrrrrrl]

A LunaTic and Her Gunn (Part 117 2xs2) "Internet Thangs"

Colson and Luna pull up to The Chateau Marmont. Colson steps out first, handing his keys to the valet. As another man approaches Luna's door he puts his hand up to stop him. Walking around, he'd rather open His Girl's door himself. Slipping out of the SUV, the somewhat notorious couple manages to walk inside, hand in hand without being bothered.

"Why are we here?" A slightly drunk and totally confused Luna asks.

"They usually film in NY, out here they book where we want. Ash or Jackie must've chose The Chateau... I'm not sure who booked this one." He shrugs out his answers as he leads her to room 29.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Inside the room looks nothing like the hotel Luna's used to. Everything is draped in black sheets. It actually makes the tragic landmark a bit more gloomier, which Luna didn't think was possible.

"Hey, Colson! How are you?" Sean the host greets him. "This must be Luna, it's such a pleasure." He grins as he stretches his arm out.

"Thank you for having us." Luna accepts his hand warmly, still not knowing what the fuck Colson has gotten her into; all she knows is that there's supposed to be wings and she's starving.

"We're all set up. Make yourselves comfortable and we'll start in 10... Sound good?" Sean confirms to Colson's nod and Luna's look of uncertainty; this is Colson's third time, Luna's never have I ever.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"Welcome to Hot Ones, Everybody!" Sean greets the camera. "We've got a special couple's edition here today with some self proclaimed Bad Things. I'm talking with Machine Gun Kelly and if you don't mind my saying so, his STUNNING girlfriend THAT Brooklyn Bitch. They're both ruling the charts with their hit single Bad Things along with other collaborations like I Think I'm Okay and Nightmare." Sean now turns to them directly. "Guys, I've gotta admit, I've seen the music video, caught your performances on SNL, Ellen and GMA... Not a stalker but I might've also peeped a couple hot Insta pics and stories of you two... I have to say, they do not do justice to the amount of tattoos and bad assery, I don't know if that's a word but I'm making it one... That comes along with the two of you in person. Just looking at the you, I wanna peirce my nose, buy a fender and find a hardcore chick to rule The World with!" He laughs nervously as Luna gives him an weird look; in her drunken mind, he's an odd, little man.

"Do it! Live the dream, my Dude!" Colson encourages him with a chuckle.

"Don't tempt me, I just might." Sean wishes. "Okay, so lemme give Brooklyn a little insight... We've got ten wings. Ten types of hot sauce raising in intensity with each wing... And one question to go with each wing and sauce." The host explains.

"Wait, what?" There's that magic sentence again as Luna hears how each wing is contingent upon a question. "You told me hot wings... You didn't say anything about questions." Luna raises her eyebrows at Colson.

"Ten wings. Ten questions. Come on, we got this, Kitten." Colson sinks a firm kiss onto Luna's cheek.

"Not the way you eat fucking wings." Luna lowly snarks for only Colson to hear with an obviously unamused tone; she doesn't like to be blindsided.

"Okay, Round One... One wing, one hot sauce, one question. Beware they get hotter as we go. Don't worry though, we've got your water and your milk that you can refill at anytime." Sean begins to start them off.

"Hold on... Wait. What? What is milk and water? Are you... Are you children?" Luna slightly stutters in disgust. "If I'm gonna do this, I'm gonna enjoy it. Fuck this ballsack shit, lemme get a beer. Please." Luna asserts while finding herself asking the same stupid fucking question AGAIN as she tries to reel herself in.

"Fucking MILK??? Who the FUUUUUCK... Ugh... Shut up, Loons. Get your beer, eat your chicken, let Colson answer whatever questions and roll on." She tries to calm down and mentally prepare herself for who knows what besides chicken and beer. "They are REALLY trying to ruin two of my favorite things though." Luna can't help but still complain to herself, thinking of how much she HATES interviews.

***********************************************

Colson can't help but laugh at her. He knew today was gonna take a lot of patience and persuading, considering Luna's great love for interviews and all things The Internet. He's surprised she's held up this well so far. "SHIT!! I hope either Ash or Jackie screened these FUCKING questions." Colson's heart suddenly begins to panic.

"Heineken, please." The sound of Luna's voice breaks Colson's thoughts as he focuses on the secretive smile on her face.

"Alright, Penny Lane." He teases her as he squeezes her thigh and tries to drop a kiss on her lips.

"Unh Unh... Luna Smith, motherfucker." She declares with a slur as she ducks just out of his reach; reminding him of the first time he tried to kiss her.

Giving him a playful eye, she let's him pull her into his lap. Luna runs her fingertips along Colson's jawline as he dips his tongue inside of her willing mouth, lightly dancing together until he breaks away to only hold her by the lips; hands firm upon her ass as always. There's a sweet, sensualness to them as love and other emotions rush between their beings by just their kiss on the lips. Colson wraps his arms around Luna, both sighing upon his release as they rest forehead to forehead. Intimate words are exchanged between the two of them until Sean interrupts them after grabbing Luna a few beers. EVERYTHING being caught by the cameras. Slightly intoxicated, Luna doesn't even think to be aware of them like a fucking dumbass.

"Alright... Round One... Now complete with water, milk and beer." Sean rubs his hands together with a chuckle.

"Thank you." Luna lifts her beer graciously to his smiling nod.

"Starting us off, we've got Hot One's classic sauce. It's our garlic fresno edition so critique away." He suggests as they all bite into a leg.

Colson takes one bite. Luna's eating the fuck out of her chicken wing as always. Then dude starts asking questions and ruins everything.

"You two are getting married in like two weeks so I'm assuming you live together... How do you guys typically start your day off?" He is easily the most awkward interviewer Luna has ever encountered.

"We do." Colson answers after he swallows his bite; looking over at Luna whose still munching away, her chicken filled nod agrees with him for the moment. "We usually start the day by fucking and getting stoned. One or the other or both together. It don't matter which order as long as their together. Back to back. Fucking and stoning. Stoning and fucking." Colson clarifies himself as Luna almost snorts her beer and Sean tries to compose himself.

"I fucking love him." Luna's soul shines for Colson.

"Round Two... This is a shawarma sauce by Dawson's. Little spicier but not much." The host leads.

Colson takes one bite as expected. Luna's chilling. Eating fucking chicken. She can't talk if she has a mouth full of chicken.

"You've got this new album out, Hotel Diablo... What would you say is the most personal song on it?" Sean asks as he takes a sip of his milk.

"Glass House." Colson answers lowly; Luna hands him her beer, only slightly happy her mouth is preoccupied by delicious meat.

"Next we got Goat Rider by Angry Goat Company... " Sean begins to describe the next sauce.

"They should call Em that... " Luna says lowly as she looks up at Colson and tries to contain herself; his smirk only encourages her. "Because he's the angriest little GOAT of them all." She says in a tiny, childlike voice; it's Colson's fault she couldn't help herself as she dips her face into his chest to hide her giggles; he's just as bad as he covers her head and his own laughter with his arm crooked around her.

"God Damn, I fucking love her." Colson's heart glows with amusement from his Kitten's sense of humor.

"Hey... Hey... Hey... No secret conversations. Hot wings and questions." The host tries to redirect them.

"Alright, super chicken man." Luna announces as she comes out of her hiding spot. "What's next?" She asks as she grabs her third wing and chomps into it.

"Are you guys REALLY getting married at ESTFest?" He asks as Colson almost chokes on his chicken.

"Need some milk?" Luna asks sarcastically with a full mouth.

"Fuck you." Colson coughs out as he sips the milk. Luna almost chokes on her own chicken as she laughs at him. "See, that's what you get. Asshole." He calls her out after handing her, her beer and making sure she'll live.

"So ESTFest... ?" Sean goes on to remind them.

"Yeah... " Colson nods after he collects himself also. "During ModSun's set."

"What?" Luna asks Sean directly when he won't stop looking at her for an answer. "You see the ring." Luna wiggles her sparkling left finger in the air. "ACTUALLY... I got two." She grins like a spoiled little girl as she extends her right hand out. "THIS one is my favorite... " Luna declares as she admires it herself before she leans back against Colson, staring up at him with THAT One Look as she plays with one of her most prized possession.

"Is that a guitar string?" Sean asks with pure wonder.

"Is that the fourth question?" Luna asks with a teasing charm as she holds her hands together towards her chest, just underneath her chin.

"I like that you play hard ball." Sean chuckles nervously as he wags his finger at her, not wanting to let this question go. "I'll trade it in for Round Four's question as long as it's a two part answer." He bargains.

"Mmmm... Nope. Two questions. Two answers. Two chickens." Luna's unwilling to budge.

"Fine... Is it a guitar string?" He asks again with a tinge of disappointment but still wanting to know.

"Yes." Luna nods her head proudly as she answers and presents her hand back towards him again so he can fully study the work of love.

"Wow. That's really neat the way the wire is twisted around to reinforce itself." He observes in admiration. "Where did it come from? EXACTLY." He reframes the question.

"We were On Tour in Pittsburgh and Colson sporadically proposed to me in his dressing room after The Show. He made it with one of the strings off the guitar he'd used that night within like 20mins." Luna sweetly admits as she thinks back to those private moments.

"I just wanna say, for the record, One... The guitar that string came off of goes everywhere with me now. Has ever since... Actually I don't think I've used another electric since that night." Colson looks over at Luna, who shakes her head to agree with him that he hasn't. "And Two... I had that rock for a few weeks but my dumbass left it behind when we hit The Road." Colson points out.

"Annnnnnnnd I love them both." Luna coos as she pecks Colson on the side of the mouth. "Now can I see why this goat is so angry?" She asks as she shoots him a grin and grabs her chicken leg.

"Alright, where are we at?" The host struggles to regain control of his show.

"We're at you owe me another hot wing because we gave you two answers." Luna reminds him of their deal as she splashes the sauce from the next bottle in line onto her fifth tiny drumstick. "You want any?" She asks Colson as she reaches over.

"Ahhh... Just a bit." He groans.

"You know Imma tell Slim all about this later tonight, right?" She chortles at him lightly. 

"I fucking hate you." Colson chuckles at a munching ass Luna while he reaches for her beer.

"So... Round Six?" Sean asks as he weakly throws his hands up to their nods. "We've got Scorpion from the Heartbeat Hot Sauce Co. Now we're climbing up the ladder guys but Brooklyn, you've eaten all of each of your wings. The only other person to do this is Shia Labeouf. Think you can you keep up?" He asks her as if it's a test.

"This motherfucker is DUMB." Colson snickers to himself at the idea of anyone challenging Luna.

"Hold up, I have some questions. First off... What do you mean only one other person has eaten all their wings? What the fuck do they do with 'em?" She asks, feeling kinda offended by the lack of chicken respect on this Internet Thang that Colson has her involved in.

"Most guests usually take a small bite of each wing." He explains to Luna's look of horror.

"Why did you ask me if I can keep up? Did you run out of chicken and beer?" She genuinely asks around the sexist insult to his head shake.

"She's such a fucking bitch." Colson thinks in amusement as he watches Luna. She is his favorite person in The World, especially when it comes to her level of IDGAF.

"Okay then, let's eat and answer questions." Sean simply requests as he takes a healthy bite. "What's the craziest thing you two have done together?" He asks once he's swallowed.

Colson takes a drink from the beer he's now sharing with Luna, mentally refusing to sip anything else after she made fun of him. His insides are dying. Luna's having the time of her life like she's the Abba Queen of hot wings as she wipes her mouth after fucking up her latest victim. Both of them are on totally different waves lengths but when their eyes meet for the question anything drops away and everything makes sense.

"The craziest thing I've ever done with Luna is fall in love with her almost 10yrs ago simply by her presence and smile." Colson grins as he looks down for a moment. "I think I might've even described it once as a cosmic boner." Colson lightly laughs to himself as he looks up into Luna's welling eyes and they lightly giggle together at the reality of their love; she covers her mouth to slightly to muffle her happy whimpers.

"Yeeaaah... We've done some crazy shit but none of our foolish antics compare to the risk that we're taking by starting a life together." Luna answers sincerely as her breath catches and her eyes never leave Colson's.

"More wings for Round Seven?" The host interrupts their intimacy again.

"Round Seven." The couple agrees before nodding studiously at each other and focusing on their wings.

"Round Seven we have Bourbon Habenero Ghost from Hellfire Detroit. Let's give it a go." He suggests as they each take a bite. "Best song on Hotel Diablo?" Sean hits them with a rapid fire question.

"AHHHHH... Fuck!! THAT'S hot!! Ahhhh... Ahhh... Bad Things!"  Colson shouts out his answer as he stands up and begins waving his bandana around.

Sean heads directly for the milk after one full bite, chew and swallow. Luna eats the whole wing. Then finishes her beer.

"Aww... Bunny." Luna coos with a smile as she lightly giggles and sucks her teeth. "Don't listen to him, he's hot sauce dumb right now. Col, get some milk... " She advises as she hands him the glass. "Hotel Diablo is bigger than just ONE great song." Luna air quotes. "It's a whole concept from beginning to end. I won't say which song I think is the best but I think when a song that is not only number on the Alternative charts but also number two in POP with a major lyric that stands alone about hurting oneself... " Luna's voice begins to quiver. "Than that means to me that millions of people are responding to and resonating with a certain kind of painful feeling... " Luna starts to become visibly emotional as she continues to speak. "And I think it's important to pay attention to that point because it's incredibly concerning that so many individuals in our society obviously relate in some kind of vulnerable way to the words of this song but we don't talk about ANY it. It's time to change our question. It's not what is the best song. It should be WHY is this the best song." Luna has tears rolling down her cheeks as she looks down in her lap to let them drop silently, leaving both men speechless.

"Holy fuck... I never thought of it that way." Colson stares at her while holding the empty glass of milk before making his way over to comfort her.

"Are you guys ready for Round Eight?" Sean gently asks as he sits back down with them after Luna's had a chance to pull herself together.

"Yeah, Man. We got this." Colson answers as he squeezes Luna's thigh.

"Okay... Round Eight... We got Beyond Insanity by Da Bomb and a direct question for Brooklyn. We ready? Bite!" Sean declares skipping his own wing to ask Luna the question mid chew. "Why won't you proclaim your birth name publicly?"

"What the FUCK was that?" Colson's bewildered by the question presented to Luna as he holds tight of her thigh and drops his wing as she speaks. "Just know I'm here, Kitten." Is all he can think as he stares daggers into Sean and Luna cooly rips the host a new asshole. 

"Do you know my birth name?" Luna asks as she slows down her chewing and stares through the stupid host. "Because I don't. It's not Luna Smith if that what you're suggesting. That's my legal name. Not my birth name. You should really do your research before you ask your guests personal questions... Or at least have them worded correctly." Luna advises icily as she finishes her wing. "We ready for Round Nine?" Luna asks loudly with an annoyed tone as she drops the chicken bone onto her full plate.

"Yeah. Let's do it." Sean continues uncomfortably. "This is called Chipotle Express and it's by PuckerButt Pepper Co... We may be rising in heat but we're gonna take it down a smidge in the questions... I know you've collaborated a few times but do you guys think you'll ever do anything like a full album or project together?" Sean asks as he bites into his wing.

For the first time Luna doesn't use her love of food as an excuse not speak. "That's probably the best question you've asked yet." She compliments Sean finally as she looks over at Colson's own turning wheels before choosing to explain. "Because it's the first one that I don't have an answer to because I never heard the question."

"I think what she's trying to say is as natural of a next move that you may think making an entire album together may be... It never occurred to either of us until the moment you presented the question... " Colson turns his head to stare at Luna with a loving smile; both knowing that they're sharing almost the same thought. "And now I can't stop thinking of all the other thousands of things we could create together. So thank you." Colson and Luna turn away from each other for a moment to look at Sean with gratitude.

"Do you guys believe in soulmates?" He asks his final question while caught up in the loving feelings between the couple.

"Yes."

"No."

Colson and Luna answer at the same time but with different responses. Different ideals. Different expectations. 

"What do you mean no?" He asks her with furrowed eyebrows.

"I don't. I believe in true love but I don't believe that we're only destined to love one person. I think different people are supposed to come into our lives at different points for different reasons for different amounts of time. If that wasn't my truth than I would've never been able to fall in love with you after Justin." Luna explains her logic to him as if they're the only two in the hotel room.

Colson's silent for a moment. Totally hating Sean and his hot wings. ESPECIALLY hating his stupid fucking questions. Deeply contemplating what Luna just said.

"But you do, MGK?" Sean asks him directly, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yeah. I believe I found my soulmate... And if not, I'll have her as my wife." He smiles coyly, never taking his eyes off of Luna as she watches him with adoration.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

"What were your other questions?" Luna inquisitively asks Sean after they wrap up taping.

"Oh! Uh... What do you think married life will look like for you guys and do you think you'll ever have kids?" He responds, slightly caught off guard.

"Life won't change." Luna smiles. "We're gonna keep on creating, traveling and being kind to The World as for... "

"You ready, Kitten?" Colson interrupts them as he slips his arm around Luna's waist. "Thanks again, Man." He acknowledges Sean before leading Luna away.

"We already have one... But maybe another one day." Luna answers his second question over her shoulder with a twinkle in her eye.

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

"Where are we going now?" Luna giggles into Colson's ear as he carries her piggyback style up a slight hill.

"You've shown me a lot of cool things, now it's my turn." He answers her as he gently sets her down in the evening glow of the dipping sun. "Here, lemme get that blanket." He asks of her as he takes the schoolbag from off of Luna's back. Stretching it out, he reaches for her once he sits down. "Lay with me, please?" He requests.

"Where are we?" Luna asks as she curls up next to his body.

"Just wait." Colson gently instructs as he lights a blunt.

On a quiet hill somewhere in LA, Colson and Luna snuggle up together in the warm summer's air as the sun falls off the edge of The Earth. The night's sky slowly creeping around them. Luna's breath catches in her chest as she takes in Colson's surprise. It's a WHOLE sky filled with stars.

"I knew you'd appreciate this." He smiles to himself as he kisses the top of her head.

"It's so beautiful... How did you ever find this?" She asks in amazement.

"Mod showed me one night when we were tripping. It's the ONLY place you can see the stars out here." Colson breathes in deeply as he pulls her closer.

They lay together pointing out what they think are different constellations. Debating what's a satellite and what's a star. Luna drawing out Orion's Belt as Colson shows her where he believes to be The Big and Little Dipper are.

"So you really don't believe in soulmates?" Colson asks Luna again under the cosmic sky.

"No. Not one. I believe we're destined to love who we love... And I love you, Bunny. What's the difference?" She asks him.

"I don't know... I guess I find the whole idea of belonging to one person to be comforting and romantic. It's like having a predestined home." The idealistic yet hurt little boy inside of him answers.

"Oh, Bunny... " Luna purrs as she snuggles closer to him. "I am your home. Forever. Married, not married. Soulmates, not soulmates. I know a lot of shit but there's not much I'm sure of." Luna admits. "I am sure that I've loved since I saw you but that I wasn't meant to truly meet you until I did." She places his hand in the middle of her breasts so he can feel her beating heart. "We are who we are for a reason and right now... Our reason is the only thing that makes sense or matters to me."

Colson grabs her chest with a firm lightness. Holding their feelings tightly inside of his large palm. After a moment he gently rolls his body so that he looms over top of Luna. Staring down at her, he brushes the random stands of hair from her face. Leaning on his forearms, he dips down to kiss her passionately. She runs her fingers along the sides of his face into the back of his hair as she pulls him closer and kisses him firmly.

Their touches are sweet and soft under the star filled sky. They slowly undress each other as their kisses linger on their bare skin. Colson and Luna stare into each other's souls as he fully enters her. Making them both shake from their pure feelings and emotions.

It's not often that Colson and Luna make love. They usually fuck the shit out of each other. Tonight they're not animals. They're intimate lovers, both taking their time. Dropping heartfelt I love yous into each other's ears as they softly pant and moan. Soulmates or not, Luna and Colson are in this shit called Life together. Forever.

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

2Xs2

To be continued...

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 002

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Hello all~ Down the rabbit hole. TW: Teenagers can be the worst. Bullying. Fatphobia. Slut shaming. Cruel boys being cruel boys.

Chapter 2: A Million Dead Stars

   All Evie had to do was wait patiently. For Heather to pop out back and for Billy to swoop in and make his bold move.

   The goofy grin Heather walked back in with did not disappoint. Not at all.

   “Hey, you.” Curls bounced when Evie cocked her head and Heather plopped down with a drink. They tapped red plastic cups.

   “So, I just had an...amazing conversation.”

   “Yeah...?" Evie sang softer. "Pray tell."

   “Just...wow. Billy Hargrove. Him too, huh?”

   “We knew it would happen. He was being way too cool around us at lunch when the guy has been nothing but shitty toward me since moving here. He gave me a ride home, it was obvious. And so…?”

   “Where to start?” Heather put her arm up on the couch and took a long drink, laughing. Pretty in pink girl. “First he brought up Jane Austen. Said they were studying it in English which was a total bluff.”

   “We’re not.” Evie confirmed. “He’s in my second period.”

   "You gave up choir for that specific period with Bowers." Heather recalled more so to herself.

   "No, I just," Evie scrambled, "I just didn't want to do choir anymore. The teacher played favorites. Got sick of it."

   Another longer drink and she went on.

   "So, continue..."

   “He brought up Pride and Prejudice. Which, okay, but Emma is way better.”

   “You’re wrong, but I still love you.” Evie curled up to face her friend. Heather laughed and took her hand, leaned her head on the couch to gather herself in a fit of giggles. 

   “He said Mr. Dancy.”

   “No?” Evie died there. "And I hoped he might learn something."

   “Yes!” Heather smacked at her. Music pumped behind them. Teens roaming and making a mess of the nice mansion. "I felt bad because...I snorted about it. In his face."

   “You know, I’ll give Billy a point. Go on.”

   “Museums. Fuck me gently with a chainsaw, I love you...but I’d soon jump into a pit of alligators before going to a museum for a date. Bowling or mini golf please.” Heather was chuckling. “Ballpark hot dogs are way better than cheeseburgers. Popcorn over cheese fries and a damn milkshake? Slushies or nothing. I’m lactose intolerant. He was trying to bore me to death or poison me, Eve.”

   Evie broke to laugh again, barely able to speak.

   “I know! That’s why I suggested all of that.”

   “You bitch.” Heather was giggling still into her shoulder. Hands clasped. They broke to drink. “Oh! And campy action adventure movies or rom-coms only for Heather Holloway. I don’t get why you even go for horror, you wouldn’t hurt a fly and you squirm.”

   “He bombed.” Evie covered her eyes, wiped a tear aside. “I almost pity him.”

   “What’s funny is you like all that stuff. I’m not sure if he was faking it well, but he seemed kinda into most of it.”

   “I’ve been running out of ideas when your followers scramble. Sue me, Heath.” Evie pushed up. “I definitely need another drink.”

   “Fine, fine. Hey,” Heather laced their pinkies together, “teen boys are the worst. Thanks for bouncing another off me. Billy’s cute and all, but hell, I have too much on my plate for a boy right now.”

   “Got that right.” Evie weaved between dancing crowds to the punch bowl. Passed some guy puking into a vase and another group cheering on an arm wrestling match. Spooned herself a full cup. Was mid gulp when she turned to a pair of scathing blue eyes. Oh, Billy.

   “You fucking-”

   “I’m going to stop you right there, Hargrove, and walk that a-way.” She gulped again and passed him.

   “You think that shit’s funny?” Billy had a fistful of her jacket collar. Snarling like a mad dog. "She laughed at me."

   The humiliation of it seemed to make Billy the angriest.

   Evie felt that resonate bitterly because he sounded wounded and oblivious to what life threw her way.

   “Funny? Only after the first ten boys.” She shrugged. “Now it’s just sad. I’m not stupid.”

   “I’d say jerking me around is pretty stupid.” Billy was clearly smashed. Smelling of beer and weed. Eyes red to hell. “Maybe you’re so fucking single and miserable, you make sure your friend stays that way too, huh.”

   Billy knew a nerve was plucked at that by the way she stilled to go colder. Brown eyes molten at him.

   “You don’t know me. You’re a fucking asshole, you know that? I think we both know which one of us is miserable. Go show off for the school all you want, you don't fool everyone with those pretty blue eyes.” Evie shoved off him. Wondered if she caught that same frayed nerve.

   "Hey, we got a problem here?" A Hawkins football player towered. Couple of his buddies from other schools that weren't Ridgemont made a barricade between Billy and Evie.

   "I'm talking to Fenny, dickweed. You mind?" Billy spat. Evie huffed and rolled her eyes.

   "You're talking to the girl who kicked Brock Tannen's ass. Show some respect." Another meathead joined in. Evie hid amusement because this was an odd change over the year.

   "Guys, stand down, you really don't have to do this for me." It was...weird. Frankly, Billy looked like he was about to take on all of them.

   The boy in front gave Billy's shoulder a comical brush and they went off like a herd of happy buffalo.

   "The fuck, are you teen royalty somehow?" Hargrove made a face at her tired expression.

   "No, just some lucky idol they keep around. I still get stepped on in the hallway and I pass everyone's love notes for them." Evie sipped. "I don't care that you like Heather, I care that you pretended to be something close to kind with me to get at her."

   "Don't worry, I'm not interesting in being kind to you again." It came out nastier than he meant it too. Alcohol did that to his old man as well. Disgust welled and Billy had nowhere to put it so it flowed out. "No one here gives a shit about what you have to say, Fenny. Don't count on them trying either just because you're some freak they keep around for one sick story. They're all gonna laugh at you."

   Evie blinked a few times. Saw Billy's shoulders sink while they stared into each other, both searching long and hard. Finished her drink in one swig and tossed the cup at his shoes.

   “You fucking insecure asshole, check a mirror in five years and let me know if you like what you see. Not like you even do now, I bet, so enjoy denial. And stay away from me, Hargrove.” She went down the hallway beyond a spiral staircase and almost ran into a huge chest. As if this night couldn't get any worse.

   Fuck.

   Brock Tannen. Poster boy of rich asshole quarterback from their main rival school. Chestnut hair and chiseled good looks covered evil.

   “Fat Fenny. Oh, sorry. Old habit. Evie. Missed you around these parts.” He nursed a can of beer and leaned into the wall. “Go psycho on anyone lately?”

   “The year isn’t over.” She moved to pass him.

   “Look.” He jolted in front of her. “Admittedly, I was a real shithead. I know that now. My folks even got someone for me to talk to. I'm working through all my shit. But, I was an ass to you.”

   “We knew this.” Evie tried to go the other way, but his shoulder blocked her. She caught sight of his chain. A silver playboy bunny charm he loved to show off.

   “Listen, the year is almost up. I want you to know I don’t hold it against you. You went through some shit at home too. Truce?” No response. A beat before his chin lifted. “You never went crying to your slut mother about me. My dad said she sucks the mailman off.”

   "Don't say shit about my mother." Evie was on her toes. Hands clenching.

   "Didn't cry to daddy either, oh...my bad. You can't." Brock's laughter rang sirens around her head. He was begging her to go off again. "Why didn't you tell mommy about me? We almost had fun."

   “You didn’t get far with me if that’s what you mean, you think I’d give you my tears? Just embarrassed that you bat at fat chicks and get turned down. Eat shit, Tannen.” She got around him, staggered away.

   “Maybe I’ll convince you. I just want to be friends. It’s going to be a new year soon.” His voice lingered along the hallways. "Just messing with you cause I like you is all." More chuckles followed.

   Guys like Tannen secretly wanted her. Unobtainable and strange girls who didn’t conform to stupid high school stereotypes, it really pissed people off. Exotic, which was truly the worst word. Evie was easy to fetishize. 

   Billy got over Heather because Evie passed him moments later with his tongue down some Ridgemont girl’s throat.

   The boy was all mouth and hands. Sucked face like a fucking giant squid attacking a ship at sea.

   "Ick. Fucking Cthulhu." She got away from that, drank more to forget.

   Heather pulled her friend into the dancing. Lights blasting all directions. Music pulsed. Couple more drinks and they were stumbling to Heather’s place. Sneaking up the stairs to fall into a queen sized bed.

   “Can’t believe we didn’t wake my parents.” Heather rolled to her front, smudged the pillow with makeup. Evie was on her side snickering. “Hey, you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

   “Nothing is wrong.” Brown eyes blinked. Heather nuzzled her pillow and breathed even, searching.

   “You changed last year. After, what happened at home… I know you miss your dad.” Delicate fingertips ran over Evie's arm. Slipped away.

   “He left.”

   Evie remembered coming home from school. He was just gone. Clothes and all. Mona crying at the table. Pictures down. Like he never existed.

   And her mother never really explained why. Just said they had problems and her dad wanted to be with someone else. He never called. Mona cried that day and hasn’t cried since. Evie couldn’t even remember the last thing she said to him. 

   People vanish. They have that power.

   “After...what happened with Tannen. You got all distant with me. I just worry about you a lot.” Heather’s fingers curled into Evie’s sleeve. “Kids are cruel, I don’t understand why. Why they're so mean...”

   “Some people don’t know where to put it when they hate themselves.”

   “I don't think I hate myself. Sometimes I hate that myself isn't enough, you know? Enough to please my parents all the time and enough to help other people out."

   "You're more than enough for me, Heather." Evie heard a sniffle.

   "D-Do you hate yourself?” An airy tone slurred.

   “I don’t know.” Evie sighed. “I’m fine, Heath, I’m happy. I dealt with it.”

   “Happy or pretending to be?” Heather mused, pulling at her hair scrunchie to relieve brown locks. “I just don’t see you a lot, like you’re always with someone else. You never wanted to hang out over the summer.”

   “I’m just busy with stuff, it’s nothing.” Evie peered at the walls plastered in their friendship. Felt every smiling version of herself in those old photographs wince at her lies. Stars exploding in total silence.

   “You’re going to leave Hawkins and sing your songs for people on a stage. You’re going to be world famous and I’ll get to point and say, that’s my best friend.” Heather grinned. “Keep breaking that shell. I can help you.”

   “I’ll try.” Evie scoffed. “You’re so drunk.”

   “I am…” Heather hummed. “Just talk to me, okay? I want you to be so happy again. Like we used to be when we’d go to the park. Play on swing sets.”

   “I won’t shut you out.” She replied as Heather settled, started to snore. “Goodnight, Heath.”

   “M’night.”

** ** **

   Billy was still raging into that night. Stumbled out of a bedroom pulling his tee back on, rooting around for his jacket. Most kids were starting to pass out on floors and couches.

   “Hey, this belong to you?” Brock plucked up leather so Billy snatched it. “Good to see you, Hargrove. You know, they say Hawkins would have finished out the basketball season with the title if you stayed on the team.”

   “They played favorites. Got sick of it.” Billy passed him, lightning a cigarette.

   “Come outside, sit with the guys.” Brock cocked his head, square jaw setting when he smiled.

   “Hey, B.” Tommy was stoned out of his mind. Looked at Billy like he was trying to find him in a haystack. Not with Carol so they must have had some fight. 

   Billy eyed the clear covered pool. Lights played up to touch his face before he plopped into a metal chair. Boys from Hawkins and other schools gathered around a glass table, drinking and shooting the shit. A joint was passed. Mostly rich, sporty types.

   “Hargrove. Hear you’re the Hawkins Keg King. What the hell happened with Harrington?” Brock faked interest, hands clasped.

   “Crashed and burned, man.” Tommy chortled, smacking Billy’s arm.

   “Who?” Just play dumb.

   “Don’t play coy, man, we all know you beat the shit out of him. Knocked the pretty boy down a few pegs.” Brock only grinned there. “So, you’re in the circle now.”

   “Oooh, do I get a medal?” Billy flicked his smoke aside and swiped Tommy’s beer to drink.

   “I like this guy, Hagan.” 

   “We can trust him.” Tommy winked, sitting back.

   “You’re not going to hunt me for sport, are you?” Billy inhaled sharper, unworried. Laughter erupted.

   “It’s funny you say that,” Brock took the floor, “because we are going to let you in on the deepest secret between the high schools. Something that brings all the boys together. Hawkins. Ridgemont. Hill Valley. Bates. We have this little tradition we do between Homecoming and Prom.”

   “Skirt Safari.” Brock’s right hand man chuckled, sucking the joint down. Few boys echoed it with laughter.

   “The hell is that?” Billy drank, shaking his hair out.

   “Some of us guys throw this big dance party. Rent out a nice place in town, pour some good money into a pool.” Brock shrugged. “You take a girl and we vote.”

   “Vote?” Billy puffed. More cruel smiles.

   “Yeah, on which girl is the ugliest beast.” Hyena cackling followed. Billy just stared with his brow raised.

   “Ah...What the fuck is this? Are you joking?”

   “Open season, man.” Another boy chimed in.

   “Walk with me, Hargrove, you have something special about you.” Brock got up, swiped the joint to finish it. Billy looked irritated and followed. Fresh air cleared his head. Behind them, teens chattered. “I think you’ll fit right in here. You live on Cherry Lane, right?”

   “What’s it to you?” Billy chucked the beer aside.

   “Next to that Fenny girl. Kinda cute in her new little outfits if you like something extra to grab onto.” Brock shrugged. Turned from Billy to eye the sky clearing up.

   “Didn’t she beat your ass last year?” A sly grin crossed.

   “Ah, you heard. Rumors have been exaggerated. Just like you and Harrington I’m sure. Getting booted from the team over a tiff.”

   “I left on my own, fuck them.”

   “Fenny had a thing for me and I said no because I was with someone, so she got emotional. Girls are like that. They get attached and upset when we don't give them what they need.” Brock stuffed his hands into his pockets. “She’s untouched, you know, so I heard. Flaunting her shit now and not letting us grab the goods. Asking for it man, but too afraid to follow through. I hate that teasing shit. They say the bookworms are wild in the sack. Bet you that musical girl can sing too.”

   “You obsessed with her now and her little outfits?” That earned Billy a brief heated expression. The boy was more observant than he was given credit for.

   “I just wanted to raise a challenge for you. Get Fenny to go to Skirt Safari as your date. New Years Eve, we’ll give you the address. Kiss her before the clock strikes twelve. She won’t earn you the win, but I’ll bet you money that you can’t get the famous ice queen to go.”

   “Man, this is so fucking stupid.” Billy clearly didn’t fit with this crowd of uppity shits. Heels spun to go.

   “Is three hundred dollars stupid?” Brock watched Billy skid. Blue eyes shifting to see him again. “Ah, I have your attention.”

   “Cash?” Billy could use it. Three hundred would go far for him. Brock Tannen knew that immediately about him.

   “I can show it to you if you like.” Brock displayed his teeth, almost glowing and sharp. “Show us that Hargrove charm and break the unbreakable. If you're the Keg King. Prove it. Let us see you in action.”

   “I take her to the shitty party and you give me three hundred bucks?" Billy asked carefully, eyes darting. "She doesn't have to find out about this vote shit you guys do?”

   “No, not a word from us. I'll even pay your end of the pool as a token. Just an innocent kiss before the ball drops. You don't have to screw her, unless she's your thing. Easy enough?” Brock held out his hand. Billy eyed the campy bunny chain around Tannen’s neck, huffed out his nose.

   Took the offer with a hard expression.

   “Deal.”

** ** **

   Evie rubbed her eyes the next morning and said bye to Heather, raking fingers through curls as she was dropped off. Jacket pulled close while she fumbled for keys and Heather drove off.

   Not even a second after, a blue Camaro was pulling up next door. 

   It was annoying how great Billy looked even with a hangover after a hard night of partying. He stunk of beer and smoke and his hair was ratted, but glowy as always. Evie groaned when he spotted her and got the key in the door.

   “Hey, Evie.” Was that her name he just used? “Hey, wait up.” Boots clicked to hurry toward her house. A stronger hand yanked the front door closed and Billy held his ground there. "Wait a second, I'm trying to talk to you."

   “Aren’t we both too hungover for this?” Already on the defensive. Makeup smeared around her eyes. She turned, applying some chapstick and sighed out. "What?"

   “Look.” Billy pushed his hands into his back pockets, eyes flicking away and back. “It was a dick move. The whole Heather thing.”

   “Yeah.” She waited for him to go on.

   “And I’m…” Sorry? “It was shitty.” He craned down toward her. "The stuff I said, I was fucking wasted."

   "And you're..." She tried to spell the word out with her eyes. Billy blinked innocently.

   "An asshole."

   Evie flattened.

   "Yes, but not what I was...ah, look, it doesn't matter. I was drunk and I jabbed too. And I am...sorry." A shrug before she tried the door again.

   Billy pulled it shut once more like this was a game, earning a sigh of irritation.

   "I'm still talking at you. I was...I am...a shithead." He couldn't wrap his squid tongue around a fucking apology. Christ.

   Evie looked expectantly, leaning in as if more should come.

   Billy sucked at this so he decided to jump right in.

   “I wanted to make it up to you. There’s this dance up in the city. Real bar. Real drinks. New Years Eve bash. Go with me.” It sounded like an order.

   “Go with you?” She blinked in shock. Grew pointed. “Ah, no, Billy.” Evie got her front door open again and pushed by him. Wondered if he was used to rejection in any form. So, she pushed pride aside. “But, Heather thinks you’re cute okay. Just ask her. It’s fine.”

   She got around the door and hid half behind it. Billy’s hand went flat to stop it from shutting.

   “I don’t want to ask Heather, I’m asking you.” He shrugged with big eyes. Bet ladies fell for it. Evie searched him, beyond confused. She hated confusion. It was too much. “You’re single, it’s this or some lame ass high school party.”

   He noted she opened her mouth and decided not to protest the single part. The hesitation was odd.

   "I...I happen to like lame ass high school parties." She stammered out.

   "Oh, sure." He winked.

   "Y-Yeah, I just love them actually because kids our age are very stupid. It's better than public television."

   "Right. Right." He sounded not convinced.

   "And, you're Billy Hargrove so any girl will jump at the chance, just ask-"

   “I’m asking you, Angel. Deal with it.” He lowered his tone and got closer. Flashed a darling smile then bit his lip. Slid that tongue over it. "Don't make me beg. You know I will."

   “You...I… Look, I’m...flattered but, I can’t. I, uh, have a thing.” Her voice trailed off. “Sorry.” The door shut.

   Billy gave this growl low in his throat. 

   “We have time, Fenny, I’m fine asking again.” His voice picked up. Silence. "All you gotta do is nod that pretty head of yours."

   Billy knew she heard it. He turned and dropped the grin when he spotted Max there on the sidewalk, skateboard in hand. Watching.

   "Are you asking Evie out?" She narrowed on him.

   "Mind your fucking business, shitbird." Billy stepped off the porch. "She's going to a party with me."

   "Sounded like she just said no to you."

   Billy swerved to get angry. Remembered a nail bat crashing between his legs. Shut his mouth.

   "Whatever." A puff.

   "She's nice," Max trailed after him, "you should, you know...ask her to something if you... She's cool. Cooler than you."

   He slowed, eyebrow raising.

   "Doesn't matter."

   "It's Saturday." Max explained, red hair catching the sunlight to flame up.

   "I know what day it is, Max, leave me alone." Billy was going up toward their house.

   "She probably said no because you stink so bad."

   "What the fuck?" He wheeled around again, chest puffing.

   Max smirked at him and Billy found himself matching it. Bold little shit.

   "I know what I said. And it's Saturday, that means she'll probably be helping her mom at that salon later. You should shower and show up. Girls like spontaneous stuff, it's thoughtful and you suck at that."

   Billy scrunched at her.

   "Since when do you care about...?"

   "About what?" She shuffled there on the grass. Peered at Neil's car in the driveway. "We're family now whether we like it or not. Which means I'm stuck looking out for you. Right, Billy?" Max dropped her skateboard, popping it up with one foot. "I like Evie and I don't want my brother being a jerk to her. Or anyone."

   Billy scoffed, near amused.

   "Right." He grumbled. Went up and paused to turn once more. "Max."

   "Yeah?" She readied to ride off.

   "Watch the board around my damn car, will you?" Billy heard her snort. "I got shit to do now, stay out of the way."

   "Take a shower and show up. Try asking instead of telling. See what happens." Max rode off with a clatter of wheels on concrete. He only shook his head again. Smiled to himself without thinking before he went in.

   Billy decided to take the advise on all accounts. She'd go with him.

   Certainty crept the more he looked at himself in the mirror and applied his aftershave. Maybe he forced the feeling so often, it was second nature. Fuck, looking at his reflection was never this difficult. Evie's words rang harder this morning.

   He didn't blame her for once.

   All these false fronts Billy showed the world. Old photographs flashing like a million dead stars. That was all we ever saw of them. Somewhere else, Evie heard those same stars dying too. Decayed and twinkling too pretty even still. It sounded almost like a cruel fate.

   A tongue swept over his lips before he tried something new. Eyes averting to speak quietly like someone might hear. Fingers twisting the silver ring about his middle finger.

   "Sorry."

   He resumed fixing his curls. Polished up that Hargrove charm until it shined bright.

   What Evangeline Fenny didn't know couldn't possibly hurt her, Billy reasoned.

   Right?

~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, chat with me if you have time! Tried to push another chp out quick. Imma pass out now XOXO TAGGED: @80sbxtch​ @nottherightseason​ @orxhidshavana​  

[akechicrimes]

7 or 71 for either shuake or yukamitsu [big eye emojis]

7. “I told you that I’d never leave you; I’m not going anywhere.”

On Goro’s thirty-fourth birthday at ten-thirty in the morning, Akira calls him at work and says, “Happy birthday, dear. I just got hit by a car, and I need to know what color bike you want.”

*

On Goro’s thirty-fourth birthday at ten-thirty in the morning, Akira calls him at work (which Goro dubiously eyeballs for a whole four seconds before picking up) and says, “Happy birthday, dear. I just got hit by a car, and I need to know what color bike you want.”

Well, neither Goro nor Akira own a car for Akira to drive, so that means Akira got hit on foot. Goro is very calm, and has no immediate panic response to that, because he’s a rational and responsible adult. “Are you dead?” Goro asks.

“Probably not.”

“And is there a reason you’re calling me instead of the ambulance?”

“Oh, I’m fine. I think I have a bruise on one of my legs, if that counts. But I was riding your bike when it happened, so the bike got totaled, so, you know. They’ve got the same model you had, but there’s tons of new colors, if you want pictures.”

Goro takes a very long, very deep breath. Goro is very, extremely calm. “Anything is fine,” he says. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, hundred percent. I even landed on my feet; you should’ve seen it.”

“You should go to the ER anyway,” says Goro, in a voice that is truly the epitome of calm.

“I mean, I guess I could, but that seems like a waste of time. And I don’t want to just leave your bike in the middle of the road.”

“Throw it away if it’s wrecked, then.”

“But it deserves a proper send-off.”

“You’re doing this to me on my birthday, Kurusu.”

“I’ll go to the ER if you go with me,” says Akira hopefully, who is a perennially bad influence who is of the opinion that Goro should have just said he’d be ‘working from home’ and spent the day with him.

Goro takes a look at his calendar, tallies up how many meeting he’d have to reschedule, and waits a whole five seconds before he lets himself say, “Fine,” because Akira just said that he’s fine and Goro isn’t upset and everything is so calm that Goro can wait five seconds before agreeing to leave work. “I’ll see you at Leblanc.”

“Wait, wait, which color for the bike? They’ve got green, blue, a red, a kind of fun rose-gold thing, which is a bit excessive considering it’s a bike, and teal, and a kind of blue and orange Naruto-y thing…”

“Anything is fine.” Goro stops. “Except the last one.”

“Red it is! See you in a bit.”

“Don’t ride that bike back to Leblanc,” says Goro, as if lightning might strike twice on the same day on the same man riding the same model bike of the same color, but Akira’s already hung up. Goro speed-drafts a rescheduling email, copy-pastes it to four different people, and then sprints out the office door without even a goodbye to his coworkers.

*

Friday, 11:16 AM

FUTABA: hey

FUTABA: hey goro

FUTABA: hey gorororororororororo

FUTABA: HEY MR AKECHI KURUSU

GORO: If it’s about the traffic accident, I heard about it.

GORO: I’m going back to Leblanc now.

FUTABA: no it’s smthg else

FUTABA: well it is about the accident but i got smthg else for u

FUTABA sent MOV19.mp4

FUTABA: ripped this from the traffic cam

GORO: Is this footage of the accident?

FUTABA: yeehaw

GORO: …Thank you for the offer, but I don’t know if I want to see this.

FUTABA: ok i hear u but i promise it’s hilarious

FUTABA: and also u might feel better if u see it

FUTABA: like idk what he told u on the phone but like

FUTABA: look the car even slowed down at the intersection

FUTABA: the dude was obeying traffic laws and everything he was doing something like ten under the speed limit

FUTABA: the car ENTIRELY missed akira

FUTABA: got the bike full on

FUTABA: and then he just rolls up across the hood and up the windshield like a looney toon

FUTABA: rip ur bike tho it just goes cronch

FUTABA: instant pretzel

FUTABA: ty bichael for ur sacrifice

FUTABA: also idk i figured you

FUTABA: might wanna see for urself that he’s okay

FUTABA: like u can see him stand up at the end and he’s not even confused or anything he’s super duper ok

FUTABA: he’s not bullshitting u over the phone and pretending he’s ok when he’s not ok

FUTABA: u know how he does lmao

GORO: …Huh.

GORO: He really did land on his feet for a whole second there, didn’t he?

FUTABA: yeah like a cat

FUTABA: it’s nuts tbh

FUTABA: and then he remembers he’s a human and falls on his ass LMAO

FUTABA: show it to morgana i want his professional kitty cat opinion on the matter

FUTABA: rate akira’s near death experience

FUTABA: also the driver was v nice and v apologetic and he gave akira his insurance

FUTABA: but i have his home address and work address and phone number and the name of his dog if you want it

GORO: Just the insurance will be fine.

FUTABA: kk

GORO: …And thanks for sending the video.

GORO: Even though I already knew he was fine.

FUTABA: you know those like

FUTABA: itty bitty teeny weeny micro dogs

FUTABA: that are like four and a half pounds

FUTABA: but they think they can take any mfer on the block out of sheer will alone

FUTABA: and theyve always got their eyeballs bulging out and they pick fights with 70 pound dogs

FUTABA: and they have only two emotions which are rage and anxiety and they shake constantly because theyre only four pounds and they have So Much Emotion and nowhere to put it so they vibrate at the speed of sound

GORO: Is this a metaphor about me.

FUTABA: it’s a metaphor about you

FUTABA: because i can hear your shaky angry anxious four pound vibrating all the way from the other side of tokyo

GORO: You are the smallest, angriest, most anxious person I know, who regularly picks fights with international hacking organizations and billion-dollar companies.

GORO: And I, somehow, am the angry shaky dog.

FUTABA: your husband got hit by a car on ur birthday

GORO: I know that.

GORO: I do not need to be reminded.

FUTABA: ah yeah

FUTABA: sorry

GORO: He’s fine.

GORO: He said he’s fine.

GORO: And from this footage, he’s more than fine.

FUTABA: he is super double extra fine with a side of fine

GORO: Unless this footage was in any way edited.

GORO: And unless he was faking his call, somehow.

GORO: In which case, I’m going to walk into Leblanc and find out that he was just pretending to be okay so he could hear my voice one last time and Leblanc will be swarming with police officers to break the news the newly bereaved.

GORO: But that’s not going to happen.

GORO: Because Akira is fine, and I’m perfectly fine.

FUTABA: im rly glad to hear my man

GORO: This footage isn’t edited, is it.

FUTABA: no

GORO: Are you very sure?

GORO: Videos are easily modified.

GORO: Would you even know if it was edited?

FUTABA: yes im a literal wizard of course i would know

FUTABA: where are u even getting this idea from

GORO: The entire series of events is unrealistic, isn’t it?

GORO: You said yourself that it was almost like something out of a cartoon.

GORO: The likelihood that someone gets hit by a car and comes out of it entirely no worse for wear is practically ridiculous.

FUTABA: i ripped that film straight from the cam it is entirely unedited

GORO: But how can you be sure? Did you see him in live camera?

FUTABA: i mean no but he texted me

GORO: What if that was his dying text.

FUTABA: i rly dont know if his dying text would have been the “i lived bitch” meme with the cat filter

FUTABA: he’s fine dude

FUTABA: that’s why i sent you the video

GORO: I KNOW he’s fine.

GORO: I’m asking if there’s any solid evidence.

FUTABA: THE VIDEO

GORO: I’m going to call him. Brb

FUTABA: so what he can tell you he’s fine AGAIN and you’ll be like

FUTABA: “oh but what if it was secretly a pod person who stole his body after he died tragically after calling me one last time to hear my voice”

FUTABA: he is FINE

FUTABA: like go ahead and call him if u want but

FUTABA: the only person who was gonna edit that footage was me

FUTABA: and if he were dead i would not be functioning enough to be doing any kinda photoshop like that

FUTABA: let alone LIE to you jesus christ!!!!!

FUTABA: god

FUTABA: i pronounce you King Shaky Dog

FUTABA: the tiniest and angriest and shakiest and most anxious four pound goblin

FUTABA: i will reclaim my title tomorrow

FUTABA: for now it’s my birthday gift to you

FUTABA: the title of Shaky Dog allows you to go absolutely apeshit and nobody will judge you

GORO: You know I hate birthday presents.

FUTABA: did you call akira

GORO: I hate birthday presents so much that I will be refusing my title as King Shaky Dog and will henceforth not be going ape shit.

FUTABA: ok so

FUTABA: i didnt mean to

FUTABA: get snippy with you or anything

GORO: It’s fine.

GORO: I wasn’t… exactly polite, myself.

GORO: So.

FUTABA: um

FUTABA: you really can call him if you want

FUTABA: there’s nothing wrong with that

FUTABA: between u and me……………………. i definitely did that more than once for a lot lesser reasons than someone getting hit by a car

GORO: My stop is in less than thirty seconds.

GORO: I will probably live.

FUTABA: lmao ok well

FUTABA: if u change ur mind about losing ur shit then please know i gave u that footage in the first place because i think if something like that happened to MY partner i would mcfreakin lose it

FUTABA: speaking of her

FUTABA: sumi says happy birth btw

FUTABA: but cuter because u know how she is

FUTABA: “happy birthday crow-senpai~~~~~~~~” in her shy voice that makes u wanna die

FUTABA: ofoogofhghhfoghfhhghfh g gh SUMI ur so cute ilysm

GORO: Tell her I said thanks.

GORO: And stop telling me how much you love her and use the ring you made me go ring shopping with you for.

FUTABA: HHHHH

FUTABA: im being cyberbullied for being a cowardly lesbian

GORO: I’m at my stop, by the way, so I’m going offline.

FUTABA: which tbh i probably deserve

FUTABA: oh kk see u

FUTABA: watch the video again mr shaky dog

FUTABA: akira is fine

FUTABA: everyone is alive

FUTABA: you are one year older

FUTABA: happy birthday goro

*

The bike is totaled.

Akira isn’t the sort of person to dump a piece of trash right in front of Leblanc, but it’s hard to miss sticking out of the nearby public trash bin. The back wheel has exploded into serrated wheel-spokes and limb rubber bits that Akira’s shoved into the trash as best as he could. The body of the bike is crushed in on itself, exposing its sharp hollow innards; the handlebars resemble a badly-tied knot. The front wheel is left to stick up and out, creaking gently, spinning overhead from half a hinge like a head not quite fully severed.

The cafe is empty except for its usual barista who, of course, is a very normal and mild-mannered barista, who has nothing to do with the several hundred millions worth of dollars of repatriated art hiding in the attic en route back to South Korea. That would be illegal, of course, and Akira Kurusu-Akechi has never once in his life done anything illegal in the name of what’s morally right. “Welcome back, dear,” says Akira, and hangs up a coffee mug to dry, and it’s so normal that Goro is convinced that either he’s experiencing yesterday, or maybe he’s re-experiencing the year 2016 all over again, or maybe Akira really is dead and this is just his ghost.

Goro sits in his usual spot at the bar. Same chair, sixteen years later. Unbelievable. Maybe Goro’s giving him a little bit of a dumbfounded look, because Akira tilts his head, leans across the bar, and pecks Goro on the cheek.

“Where’s Sakura?” Goro asks.

“Having his midday old man nap. So,” says Akira, looking pleased with himself, “either we can close Leblanc for an hour and raid the kitchen and make lunch, or we can close Leblanc and go out and have a fancy lunch. Your choice because I already made dinner reservations and we’re doing those no matter what.”

Goro really means to give him an answer, because Akira really does love Goro’s birthday every year and never fails to pick someplace nice for the day, but instead what comes out of his mouth is: “Did you ride the new bike back home?”

“Yeah, I did. Figured I might as well take it for a test drive. It’s a good bike.”

“Why didn’t you take the subway?” Goro says sharply.

“Didn’t have my card.”

“You just rode the bike all the way across Tokyo?”

“It wasn’t all the way across Tokyo, just a bit away and back… Goro?”

Ah, Goro’s going to become one of those people who has a meltdown any time their loved one gets on a plane or a train or ksomething else associated with heebie-jeebie nonsense magical thinking. Great. Fantastic. God dammit.

“Do you really want me to go to the ER?” Akira asks eventually.

Goro really wants Akira to have never gotten hit in the first place, but people don’t get what they want and sometimes the universe decides to send one bad fucking driver through a red light and take away Akira’s entire life in a split second—one mistake, a coincidence at the wrong place and time, and the boy who fought God and won is a smear of bones on the pavement.

This would be different if it were sixteen years ago, and Goro had the power to bend people’s minds in half until they broke, or dive into the deepest, bloodiest parts of the collective psyche and pummel the worst of them to a pulp—but what’s he going to do here? Lambast a guy who was going ten miles under the speed limit and just wasn’t looking the right way? Is he going to summon a new Persona from his soul and undo time itself?

Can he do anything if the universe decides, one day, that Akira’s time on this earth is up? He spent all those years desperate for power, and then abusing that power, and then desperately guilty for having abused that power, and then desperately trying to get up that power, and now here he is with the power to do jack shit when his husband almost gets run over and if the Metaverse were still around he swears he would have carved Loki from his own soul out of sheer fury alone—

“No,” says Goro sharply, and stands up. “It’s nothing. I’m not hungry, and I’m going for a walk. Please don’t text me unless it’s an emergency.”

“What—hey! Goro, wait, wait—”

“I’m getting some fresh air!”

Akira’s scrambling to get out from behind the bar. “Didn’t you just get here—?”

Goro spins around and points a finger at Akira like it’s his fault: “You were the one,” he snarls, “who promised, when we got married, that we’d always be together. And now you get hit on a bike, and then stand up like it’s nothing and—and get on another bike and go cycling around the exact same streets where you got hit—? Aren’t you scared? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Akira falls silent. “I didn’t go back to the same intersection,” he says at last.

Goro can’t take this. “I’m taking a walk.”

“Wait wait wait, Goro, just—” Akira grabs Goro’s hand and Goro has the sudden urge to yank his arm away, but Akira’s hand is also incredibly real, just like it felt this morning and yesterday and the day before that and all the days Goro ever took Akira’s living, breathing body for granted. “I didn’t think it was a big deal. He was going, I dunno, twenty miles per hour at most. It was an intersection. He’d slowed down beforehand and everything, and I didn’t even get hurt on the fall.”

Right, because Goro’s the one who’s just freaking out for no reason. Right. Okay. Because that’s how he is, isn’t he, always being dramatic over little things. Right. Of course. This is fine.

When Goro doesn’t turn around, Akira moves around to the front to look him in the eye. “Sorry if I made you worry,” says Akira. “But it was really nothing at all.”

“Maybe it was nothing this time,” says Goro forcefully. “But what about the next time—the next car—the next time you borrow my bike? What about tomorrow? Or the day after that? Literally any one of the hundreds and hundreds of days coming up where you could easily die just as easily as you died today.”

“Then I’ll escape death hundreds and hundreds of times,” says Akira.

Goro scoffs.

“I mean it. I was a Phantom Thief, wasn’t I? I escaped death more than once. Did it again today. I’ll do it as many times as it takes until we’re both old and grey.” Akira takes Goro’s hand, but it’s Goro who laces their fingers together.

“Sometimes it doesn’t work that way,” says Goro, like a bad echo of his ten-year-old self, trying to figure out what kind of world would let his mother die.

“I’m just keeping my promise,” says Akira. “I told you that I’d never leave you. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sometimes that’s not your decision to make.”

“It is and I’ve decided I’m immortal until you die.”

Goro scoffs. “Don’t be arrogant.”

“Is it being arrogant? I didn’t let death steal you away from me. I’m not letting it steal me away from you, either.”

“Sometimes…” Goro begins.

“'Sometimes’ what?”

'Sometimes’ what?

Sometimes things get worse. People die early, and unfulfilled; they streak through the sky in a blaze and then wink out, without even a burst of fire to show for it. Sometimes nobody gets a say in what happens, and plans don’t pan out, and wishes aren’t granted, and everything happens for no good reason and no good end.

Today, Goro Akechi-Kurusu is thirty-four years old, about sixteen years older than he ever figured he was going to be. He has a career in a non-profit for maladjusted youth getting reacclimated to school systems and preparing for college, instead of the career in law he figured he’d have if he actually lived that long. He doesn’t just have one friend, but multiple friends. He has, unbelievably, a husband, which honestly still floors him to this day, considering that he was and maybe still is convinced that marriage is a scam devised by asshole men like his father to manipulate young women into a false sense of security. The other day, Akira mentioned that he wanted to get a cat to keep Morgana company, maybe in a few years when they moved into a pet-friendly apartment, and in Goro’s head, it made sense that they would both be alive and together entire years in the future for them to get a cat.

Today is already an impossible day, isn’t it?

“Sometimes,” says Goro flatly, “you say ridiculous things, and I think that you could actually pull it off.”

Akira grins. Akira leans in for their regular greeting kiss when one of them comes home, but this time, Goro closes his eyes, leans into it, really tries to memorize the feel of Akira’s lips on his. Every line and scar on his hands, the odd ends of his fingernails, that familiar way he waits for four beats, then takes a breath through his nose and kisses Goro again, and never can quite seem to avoid kissing him more on the bottom lip than the top. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep,” he says plainly not three inches from Goro’s face. “It’s bad form to leave a calling card and never show up.”

Goro smiles. “Then I won’t let you break your word.”

When Akira pulls away, he kisses the back of Goro’s hand, like a proper gentleman thief of old. “Happy birthday, dear,” he says, and surprisingly, despite the way this awful day started off, Goro thinks that Akira might be able to pull that promise off, too.

[vagrantblvrd]

For the werewolf post: Geoff's gonna have grey hair when those two keep going like that, but he can't deny that petting them after a mission is like therapy. No, just because he thinks their fur is soft does not mean, that he won't make a carpet out of em if he has to

Haha, yesss.

You know there’s a picture of him hanging in the agency somewhere - director and all - and when they’ve pulled another are they or aren’t they really dead this time on him he drags them over to see it for a Lecture.

“Are you two idiots listening? Because that -” Geoff says, pointing at his portrait with all the drama of a Very Done Geoff, “That was me three years ago. THREE YEARS. Look at me now!”

And it’s like those before and after pictures you see of presidents/world leaders and how the weight of the job has Aged them in a few years, but like, times a billion or so.

But also, also.

If anyone is so inclined for this to sidle on over into Ryan/Gavin/Geoff territory that one mission that goes so completely badly they do the stranded in a snowstorm in a cabin way in the middle of nowhere complete with huddling for warmth to get the whole mutual!pining dealt with?

Only like.

Geoff with a pair of werewolves curled around him keeping their idiot, stupid fragile human alive, and like.

Geoff waking up and being like, “...assholes,” because there’s wolfy(werewolfy?) snoring going on, and one of Gavin’s paws is kicking slightly in his sleep, either smacking Ryan in the face or ribs.

Ryan not fully waking up because it’s been a long, exhausting day - dip in a nearly frozen river with a strong current that nearly managed to do with the world’s (second best) spies/hitmen failed at and killed the three of them, and just.

Ryan snorting in his sleep and moving his head away from Gavin’s paw and making these uniquely disgruntled!Ryan noises and Geoff’s heart does the twisty hurty thing I love with the mutual pining and suchlike because he’s an old grumpy bastard and these two are better off without him even if they would be interested in him (haha, as if???) and so on and just.

Yeah.

But then, you know, then he drifts off because he’s warm and they’re safe for the the moment and it’s been a hell of a day.

When he wakes up later it’s to Gavin and Ryan having a hushed and yet very much heated conversation/debate over his head about...coins?

Like.

It’s the angriest Geoff’s ever heard Ryan without something dying and Gavin’s somewhere between outraged and laughing his ass off. Somewhere in there Geoff must give himself away as being awake because the conversation/debate breaks off and Geoff opens his eyes to see them sharing a Concerned look before looking down at him and then there’s an awkward moment before Geoff is like oh, right, and they get back on course with the figuring out where they go from there, mission-wise.

And then shenanigans and Goff realizing that wait, what? because Gavin and Ryan have been waiting and waiting and fucking waiting on him to get his head out of his ass about the three of them, and really, Geoff, really.

And then smooches and Geoff finding werewolf hair every-fucking-where for the rest of forever and Gavin and Ryan being insufferable bastards and so on?

BUT.

If you are not so inclined the whole mission gone bad with puppy pile bit concerning huddling for warmth but without mutual pining and smooches because found family and also the others working for the agency and being like “You sons of bitches!” when they catch up to them after a summer blockbuster’s worth of property damage and dead henchpersons and acceptable flesh wounds.

[bubblyani]

Envy Makes Two pt.2

(Lucifer Morningstar x Reader)

Part 2 of the Lucifer Morningstar Two Shot

Rating: Mature (18+)

Author’s Note: Shit just got real in this. Got into so many feels while writing this, I may have fallen for Lucifer all over again. Hope you all can relate once you read this. Enjoy!

Part 1 HERE

If you could have described yourself in one word tonight, ‘drained’ would definitely be it. And even a nice hot shower did not seem to help, though it helped to cleanse your exterior. It was one of those days, where the work pilled up in an instant, deadlines were tight, and the hours went by so fast you didn’t even remember which day it was.

Your tongue swept over your front teeth as you stared at the mirror over at the sink. You smiled, at least you tried smiling. You grinned, several times.  Suddenly you were fully aware of the wrinkles that formed around your smile. And you couldn’t help but wonder if your smile was ever even beautiful. And out of the blue, you wondered if it was as beautiful as Decker’s. You imagined her smiling, you imagined him being affected by that smile. His face affected with a look that could be close to affection or complete adoration.

Whoa, you thought. Why did I even go there?

Shaking your head, you tried to forget of the mere thought of it. You covered your face with your hands, sighing into them. Involuntarily your fingers went over your forehead, stopping by a scar. Gently caressing it, you scoffed slightly, smiling as the memory of the day you were gifted with it flashed before you.

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

(6 months ago)

Heavy breathing, clear heavy breathing. That was all that you could hear, surprisingly managing to drown out all the intensity of the EDM as you stumbled across LUX.

Your body felt sticky. The need to jump in a shower was strong. Randomly you began to list down things to do once you got back home. Maybe a relaxing bath, and even maybe a glass of wine to forget all that happened. But first, you had more important things to tend to: your bleeding forehead for example.

Eyes squinted, you silently expressed your dislike over the flashing lights which made you dizzy. Though you made sure to throw in the polite “Excuse me”’s  and “Please make way”s, the crowds moved away before you could even finish, wearing looks of fear or disgust as you passed them by. You didn’t blame them, for you couldn’t. You didn’t want to ruin their night, you just needed one thing. And you were relieved the moment your eyes caught the glimpse of something that appeared to look like a bar. Your body suddenly had purpose to walk further, the hand on your gaping cut pressed tighter, and finally you stopped by the sound of extremely feminine giggles and by the sight of three beautiful women gathered around a man. Exclaims arose as the women saw you, thus forcing the man to turn around to look at you.

“Well...” holding a glass of whiskey, the man scanned you up and down, “looks like someone’s definitely not getting a Bloody Mary tonight!”

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

Sliding out of his bar stool, Lucifer Morningstar did not expect his Friday night to progress this way. Not especially when a woman turned up in front of him, with a bleeding head and shattered glass in her hair. Definitely not his type of surprise.

“Are you alright darling?” He asked, his tone laced with concern.

“Well, it doesn’t look like it” you tried to sound sincere, but the irony took over. Taking a step closer, he stared at you with parted lips, unbelievably quiet for a few seconds. Blood may have blocked your vision but it didn’t stop you from realizing how handsome this man was. And how his intense stare made you blush to an equal degree. But thankfully no one could notice. You were practically red in the face to begin with.

“Lucifer, aren’t you gonna join us?”

The pretty blonde from the posse could not hide her impatience as she posed the question.

“No...” he answered without hesitation, his eyes still on you, “Sorry love,  but no can do” he added. The posse expressed their disapproval with widened eyes and gasps that were tad overly dramatic. And some in the crowd did not hesitate to join in.

“Seriously mister, I’m not here to make trouble...” you said in pain, “…just point me to the nearest bartender with access to some ice ,  and I’ll be well on my way”

“Yeah man ...What the hell?...” a young man with a horrible tan stepped in from the crowd, “You’re ditching a foursome to bang a bleeding bitch?”

Raising one eyebrow, you exhaustingly shook your head with a sigh. Bleeding Bitch? Well that’s all women at some point , bruh! you thought.

Seemingly with more courage from his shot of vodka, the tanned fool jumped right between the both of you.

“Yeah that’s right. Beat it bitc- Aargh!”

An agonizing scream flew out of his lips the moment his hand was twisted sideways by Lucifer’s sudden grip.

“Ah ah ah…You better think twice before insulting a lady at my establishment, young man ” He said, through gritted teeth “now… imagine if it was not your hand, but something much more valuable to your manhood instead …” he continued, voice growing louder over the screams, “Would be terribly shameful and useless, especially when you stood up for those lovely ladies eh?”

“Alright man …” the man whimpered, face contorted with agony before looking over to you “I’m sorry” he said, voice shaking with sincerity.

Nodding, you were engulfed in your own suffering to be offended, but not engulfed enough to not appreciate the words this club owner spoke on behalf of you.

“And full disclosure, there will be no ‘banging’ where this woman is concerned” he cried out to everyone, as he walked over to you, “...at least not in this state, poor girl” you heard him mutter under his breath. You smiled softly in appreciation as he guided you upstairs.

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

You finally felt relief the moment a pack of ice touched your forehead, and a sip whiskey touched your tongue. Sitting comfortably on his leather couch, you watched Lucifer stand opposite you with much curiosity.

“So...Y/N Y/L/N...” he enunciated your name with exaggeration, “Who did you make the angriest man in LA on a Friday Night?”

You chuckled, “A restaurateur...”

“I beg your pardon?”

Sniggering, you replied, “ I’m a Food Critic...” you continued, “I gave a bad review for this one restaurant which was ugh! horrible…” you shook your head slowly, reliving the horrid memories, “I beg of you, don’t you ever go there!”

“Really?…” Lucifer asked with fascination, “Was it Sarano’s?”

Your eyes widened, “YES ! It was …” you said loudly, surprised by his guess, “You think it’s horrible too??”

“Of course…” he replied, “That man definitely has punishment cut out for him in hell...but I’m just pleased you gave him a taste of it beforehand, I applaud you” he said, giving a short bow. You smiled, quite taken by his sense of humor.

“Yeah well, look what it got me...” You sighed. “Oh dear so this...?” “Yup, was walking after a party to get some late night groceries, and the bastard had the nerve to stalk me…” you said, leaning forward to cross your legs, “…only to scream filth at me, and hit me with a bottle of beer…” you added, “Ice cold brew by the way, what a shame” For a second you thought you saw a muscle twitch in his face, “Really?” he asked, as he sat down.

“I managed to punch my way out though...” You said proudly with a chuckle.

“Ah ...” And suddenly that tense expression vanished, replaced with a smile on his face, “Well I applaud you once again, my little Trooper”

Your eyes widened, “Trooper…as in fighter?” You asked, curious to core. Taking a sip, he nodded.

“Yes, but also meaning ‘An Uplifter of spirits’. Hehe…Why not both?” He chuckled in return, raising a glass to you. You felt your heart grin widely.

The next day, you received news that the owner of Sarano’s would be compensating for your injuries and damages to your reputation as an apology. No wonder you thought of Lucifer as a “Good Omen”. 

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

(Present)

The reminiscence not only made you smile, but also made you hungry.

Risotto, your stomach whispered. Or at least the growling sounded like it.

Tossing your now braided hair to the side, you waltzed over to the kitchen in your silk chemise and night robe. But something felt missing. Cue the music.

The moment the stereo began to sing, your body began to move instantly. Movements divided equally into cooking and dancing, harmonizing effortlessly. You didn’t hesitate to do a light spin, playing with danger with the knife in your hand before resuming to chop the shallots. No one was present to judge, so you didn’t feel guilty to take a mini break to finish the whole song, dancing which was swift and sensual. It made you feel invincible. You were so proud of yourself.

Suddenly a sour thought crept inside. Sourness which urged you to wonder if she were able to do the same. Of course she could. Going down the path further, you wondered if she did it better than you. Why not? She’s incredible. You imagined him watching her, impressed and possibly even aroused, making his way over to claim what was his. 

Wait…not again!

Clenching your jaw with frustration, you stopped. You proceeded to cook by turning on the stove.

The smell of garlic filled the room as it cooked in the olive oil. But before you could savor the fragrance a little longer, the doorbell rang which was followed by incessant knocking. Quickly adding the shallots, you turned down the heat before approaching the door. Thanks to the peephole, you opened the door with confidence.

“Lucifer...” you breathed, “Hey!” The voice grew louder in greeting.

“Ah...seems like you can open doors, but can NOT answer the phone!” He snapped. Looking slightly more disheveled than usual, he had a concerned look in his face that you hadn’t seen before. It worried you.

“Wha? What do you-” you paused, “Ahh…” you said, coming to realization, “I must have left it on silent...Oops...” You laughed nervously, allowing him to come in.

“Well you should be more attentive, what if something happened to you?” His worried tone remained unchanged, his hands dug deeply in his pockets as you closed the door behind you.

“Well I’m fine aren’t I?” You chuckled, turning towards him, “Don’t worry...”you said comfortingly, holding him by the arm, “ Look look...I’m making risotto” excitement filled your phrase, attempting to infect him with the same as you dragged him into the kitchen.

Taking a deep breath, Lucifer exhaled it with a sense of pleasure. And it was evident in his eyes, “Oh father, it smells divine” he said. You smirked. You really loved cooking, but you loved it even more when you could cook for Lucifer.

“So, how goes the case?” You asked, giving the shallots a stir.  Lucifer sighed, standing on the other side of the kitchen island, facing you, “Well…turns out it was the girlfriend of Gomez who was the real culprit. An up and coming chef known for adultery didn’t exactly make Gomez the boyfriend of the year so, it all ended up being a petty revenge, although it was well orchestrated...” he said, in a surprisingly uninterested manner.

The image of him and Decker making the arrest suddenly appeared in your head. Nodding slightly, you looked at him, “You don’t exactly seem pleased to have solved it” you said, putting away the cutting board and knife into the sink.His eyebrows were raised with contradiction.

“Well, you don’t exactly seem pleased to hear about it either...” he said, glancing at your noticeably blank expression. Pressing your lips, you felt seen. Seen through the utter bullshit.

“I...uh...” you struggled, “I had...have some things in mind” you said. It was indeed the truth.

“Really?” Eyebrows furrowed, his response was inquisitive yet soft.

“Uh huh…” you looked down shyly. Awkwardness was all you could breath in, and it was uncomfortable. This was definitely a first for the both of you. Unable to take it, your eyes looked around for excuses under his inquisitive gaze. Until finally, you spotted your cellphone in your hand bag. “Aha!…you’re right…” you said, quickly grabbing it, still avoiding his gaze, which turned intense “I really didn’t see your calls nor your messages...” laughing nervously, your fingers swiped off all the notifications. “What’s so funny about that?” “Huh?” Looking up, you finally had to look back at him, for he did not sound pleased.

“Y/N...” he began, walking over to you “I was worried...” he said, grabbing the phone before tossing it back into the bag with emotion, “It was certainly unlike you to not answer or not return a call…” his voice grew louder, “…not to mention texts. You’re the one who even got me into the bloody thing!” “I-I” you were speechless, guilt washing over you. “I even got locked in the Detective’s car because apparently, I was whining about your absence like a child” “She did?” You asked, as you were tempted to smile with surprise. This was certainly news to you. Maybe it was the kitchen lights, but suddenly Lucifer Morningstar appeared to be more handsome, and you had quite the difficult time handling it. “What?” He asked, startling you. “Nothing...” you lied, while you added the the arborio into the pan. Longing for distraction, you stirred the ingredients with enough focus to engage in meditation. All felt strange suddenly. Why couldn’t you just feel normal again?

“I’m sorry Lucifer...” you muttered, giving him an apologetic look, “Make up for it with some Risotto?” Your puppy eyes did their very best. And it seemed you’ve succeeded when his eyes softened in response.

“Only with extra Parmesan” he said warmly with a smile.

“Heheheh...got it!” You said, snapping your fingers before pouring in some white wine. You thought that all was well once again. But little did you know while you stirred, Lucifer stealthily rummaged through your bag.

“So…” you heard him begin, “…the reason of you being so busy…” he continued, “… anything to do with the Chivalrous Coffee Cop Officer Reed?”

“Eh?” You looked up with confusion, to find him holding out the slip of paper with Reed’s number written on it.

How did he-? 

“Okay first of all...” you said, “Coffee Cop? I was thinking the same…wow what a coincidence” you said with excitement, inciting a surprised laugh from him. “And Second of all…” you added, slowly changing tone, “No he was not the reason” He doesn’t deserve to be a reason, to be honest. You thought,

“So he didn’t tickle your fancy then?” He asked, trying to sound unaffected yet you could still sense the concern linger. You shook your head. “Not one bit” you replied.

Suddenly you were haunted once again. You imagined her smiling. She smiled with happiness as she listened to him. She laughed at his jokes. They laughed together. Mutual laughter turned into mutual gazes of realization. The candle light made it even more romantic as Chloe’s piercing blue eyes melted by the sight of Lucifer’s own. Gazes locked into tighter as lips grew close enough to-

“But why do YOU care?”

You snapped out of the blue, angered by the image that’s slowly turning into a personal nightmare, “What if he did tickle my fancy?” You asked. It felt like torture for you to say it, “ You and I , we hang out, so won’t be the same when I hang out with him?”

“No, it is NOT!” This time he snapped back, while you poured in some broth into the pan, “He’s courting you…” he said, causing your eyebrows to raise, “Well maybe not, but it is still a date!”

“So? Why do you care?” You asked,  turning your back to the island as he stood in front of you, finally brave enough to say it, “Why do you care so much about that, Lucifer?”

“Because then he may get to kiss you!” He blurted, “And have sex with you, which will be wonderful, again and again cause he would be crazy to not stick around because he will fall MADLY in love with you” all that escaped his lips in such speed, “…and the mere thought of it simply drives me to the point of madness, that is why!!!”

You froze. For a second you were out of breath. And you swore you felt yourself clutching your chest.

“Lucifer…” you said, “a-are you…jealous?” You asked meekly.   Panting, he hesitated. You were patient, watching him with intent as he finally looked straight at you. “Yes…” Suddenly your two visits at the precinct flashed before you, finally points of confusion turned into points of clarity. It all made sense.

“I would’ve gotten you coffee if you wanted, you know…” “What are you still doing here? Don’t you have the lunch meeting?” “As much as your assistance was much appreciated Ms.Y/L/N, unfortunately we must ask you to leave”

“Wait…” raising your index finger, “…was that the reason why you were acting all strange that time at the precinct?” You asked. Sighing, he nodded with acknowledgement, “Yes…Yes you’ve caught me at foul play” he replied in embarrassment.

You scoffed, “…and here I was, thinking you were embarrassed by me, and just wanted me to leave…” you muttered softly, looking down. “What?” Suddenly he looked confused. Looking up, it was your turn to sigh. “I was kinda thinking that maybe you and…Chloe probably were…” you paused, pressing your lips, “…having something…” using absurd gestures by hand, your attempts of filling the blanks proved to be moot.

“Me? And the Detective?” Lucifer scoffed, “You really thought that?”

Arms folded, you nodded quickly. “That …probably might be…” sighing, you covered your face, “Who am I kidding?…that was the reason I’ve been kinda MIA these few days. I was…trying to…get rid of this feeling. Ugh! I hate being jealous. And her! Out of the all the women I’ve seen you with. I shouldn’t…she seems like such a great person” you spoke with such sincerity, “ and I can see you guys work so well together, you got each other’s back and…you can’t blame me for doubting”

“Oh dear…” he breathed, watching you pour in more broth after stirring, “Well…I suppose…Envy makes Two, doesn’t it?” He said, as you turned back to him. “Ugh! Tell me about it…” you said, making you both chuckle at the situation which seemed to be empathetic.

“But Wait! Hold up…” you said, turning the heat to low, “You wanted to have sex with me??” “Yes…” Lucifer replied, in a tone which sounded quite casual, stating the obvious. Jaw dropped, the notion of it seemed so unbelievable, it was only natural for you to burst out into laughter. “You…” unable to catch your breath, you struggled in mid laughter, “You serious ???” “Yes of course!” He said, “Since the very beginning” This was all too illogical, it certainly didn’t make sense. So it was no surprise why you couldn’t control your laughter. And certainly no surprise when you could not notice his shocked expression. Sighing, Lucifer shook his head, “And apparently you find this oh so amusing…” “No! It’s just that…” exhaling slowly, you looked at him, “All this time..I never knew you found me attractive.” “Y/N…the day I first saw you…” he said, holding you by the shoulders gently,  “With all that blood and mess…” his voice grew softer, “…you were still so beautiful” Compliments he showered you with were countless, but to be seen in his eyes this way was anything but imaginable to you. “I cannot believe I was thirsting for you …all by myself” you chuckled. Lucifer looked pleasantly surprised. “Darling…” he began, and suddenly that word sounded a thousand times more heavenly to your ears, “ why couldn’t you just tell me?” “Cause of my stupid pride” you sighed, placing your hand on his own, “I never bothered telling you cause… I thought maybe you would have approached me if you wanted to. I mean, I see you with all those women, and I didn’t want to be forward. The pride thing was strong, you know?” “I understand…” he murmured. You exhaled deeply as you suddenly realized his touch sent sudden tremors through your body. “ But the struggle…” your voice grew intimate, “ it was stronger, Lucifer. Oh…I tell you. Every…single…day. The want…the need…the desire” you breathed, reminding oneself of the million times you longed to break free from your constraints only to melt in his arms. Only to realize, his arms never really left your shoulders. “So was mine darling” he purred, fully wrapping his arms around you, bringing you closer. And you felt butterflies in your stomach after what felt like ages. “So, if it was so frustrating, you could have just stopped hanging out with me. Why didn’t you!?” You asked. His smile grew warmer. “ I liked your company. We could talk for hours and hours. It was not often that I’d meet a lovely person such as yourself, who chooses to stay by my side despite everything. I didn’t want to compromise that” his voice filled with affection, you were nothing but moved. “I get it” you agreed, “I was willing give up my feelings… just so I could still be your friend” “Who said we should give up forever?”  He said, his eyes focused on your lips. He said “We”. Your heart sang. He said “We”

Nerves finally caught up with you, as you felt that joyful heart beat faster. Especially when his lips grew closer to yours. “Shit…” you whispered, “I’m so nervous” “I hate to admit it but…so am I” he whispered back. The oddly adorable side to him was finally revealed, and you couldn’t believe you were a witness. “What?” You laughed with surprise. Eyes widened, he cleared his throat. “That…does not leave this room, promise?” Chuckling, you were all smiles, “Awww…I promise. Oh you are so cute “ you cooed, involuntarily holding his face in comfort. Affected by your sudden touch, he found himself shudder. Both voices grew softer with each synchronized breath. “Lucifer…” “Y/N…” Time certainly seemed to have slowed down for you the moment you felt your lips finally embrace his, turning to a fully fledged kiss.

Literal shocks ran through your body, suddenly opening gates that invited warm waters to flow through your soul. Real warmth made itself home inside you, urging your legs to feel light as a cloud. It felt so intoxicating. Why the hell did you not kiss him sooner?

Your fingers grazed over his stubble as your hands moved down. Lifting the collars of his jacket, you casually held on to it tightly as you pulled him closer. His lips so irresistible, seemed equally infatuated with your own, savoring the softness that was offered oh so willingly. Taking a hold of your braid, Lucifer began to loosen it slowly, forcing you to pull away in surprise.

“Do you know how many times…” he began, in a deep tone, “ I watched you dance, trying so hard to keep my desires at bay?” He breathed into your lips, which were swollen but still hungry.

“I forgot how observant you were” you said, your grip on his collar still tight as before, as if you didn’t want this to end. He chuckled low, “I bet you were dancing just before” he said, “Oh…the sweet torture”

“Oh Lucifer…” you whispered, “I think you just reinvented dirty talk” you said, inciting a chuckle filled with pride. Finally with your hair falling loosely on the sides of your face, you felt a sudden change in the temperature. And you wondered if his lustful gaze was to blame? “Shit…” you said, breathlessly, “Is it getting hot in here?” You asked as you felt his fingers run through your hair. “Well…I am here” “HA!” You laughed out loud, “ Aaaand he’s back ag-Mmmm”

Shushing you with his lips, Lucifer kissed you fiercely while his fingers held on to your locks with passion. Those lips were filled with greed, moving past your jawline as they attacked your neck. Throwing your head back, you did not expect to be drowning in intense sensitivity.

“Oh my G-” stopping yourself out of courtesy, you chose to moan instead.

“Now that’s more like it” you heard him chuckle next to your ear. While his lips left no inch unattended, you looked down to find him skillfully undo the knot of your night robe, taking it off within seconds. Breaking away, he stared at you, standing before him in just your chemise. You body noticeably awakened. “Oh all the things I wanted to do to you” he purred low, causing you nothing but pure excitement, “Oh yeah? Like what?” You asked, biting your lower lip. “Actually there is a list, but for starters, a bit of well deserved appreciation for this…” he said, eyes scanning your frame “… is definitely a priority”. Blushing deeply, you inhaled sharply as his hands resting your upper back, began to travel down. It was painfully slow, your body felt noticed, it felt appreciated. Ending at the curves of your buttocks, you gasped as his hands grabbed them gently, proceeding to pull them up with greed, cleverly inciting more moans out of you, leading to more kisses. Growing even more impatient, you pushed yourself up, allowing you to sit on the kitchen island with ease as Lucifer stood between your legs. All the while your kisses remained strongly intact. You pushed his jacket back, which he permitted. But the moment your hands rested on those buttons on his white shirt, he broke away. 
“Never rush the art, my little trooper”

His voice was literal heaven for your ears at this point, as you watched him unbutton the shirt with hungry eyes.

“Ah…I know that look…” Lucifer said, in a pleased tone, “ Always wanted to see yours for ages”. Amused, you chuckled softly, “Well Congratulations Mr. Morningstar”

As those buttons opened, the sight of his bare flesh unveiled your dark fantasies. Those nights when you always wondered how it must be like. Those nights that were unspoken nor unmentioned even to yourself. Slowly, you felt the ends of your chemise caress the exposed upper thighs as it was brought up. The region between your thighs began to make itself known, as you felt itself moisten, desperately craving for attention. Thus, by force of habit, your hand rested there. Aware of the situation, Lucifer managed to divert your attention by peeling off his shirt in lightening speed.

“Madam, How dare you insult the artist?” He teased, holding your hand with an iron grip. “Insult?” You said, “I thought I was applauding” you breathed with desperation, while he moved toward your ear.

“Know that when I’m around, you needn’t to do that…ever… again..”

Arousing you even further, he savored your jawline with more kisses. Greed developed in heaps and bounds, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close enough to pepper your hungry kisses onto his collarbones, all the way down to his chest. All the while your hands were occupied unbuckling his trousers. Lucifer suddenly broke away to watch you engage it with focus. Looking up, you found his thoughtful expression in such close proximity.

“What?” You asked. “Never imagined this would actually happen”. Breaking into a huge smile, you were nothing but touched, “Me too”. He saw it in your eyes, it was clear as day.

Although clouds of lust misted your gaze the moment his trousers dropped down, forcing your jaw to drop in shock by the sight. 

“Wow! That’s one hell of a package” you giggled, looking up while biting your lower lip, “ I really must have done something good today, for I just got my treat-” And once again, he kissed you with fervor, and you certainly welcomed it.

When he pulled your straps down, the curvaceous lines of your heaving breasts made themselves known. Their existence needed validation.

“I guess the big book was right…” Lucifer said, his eyes feasting you without hesitation, “Patience is a virtue”. Your nods were barely noticed when he quickly held you by the hair, pulling it down to expose the neck. Teasing you to the point of submission, he kissed you slow, starting from your neck all the way down to your cleavage.

“Let me…” you whispered, before pulling your chemise up, taking it off in an instant. The way your body stretched as your back straightened made him stare at you with marvel while you threw the item of clothing away, ending up to be equally naked as he was.

Holding you by the waist, his lips continued their pilgrimage through your topography, greedy kisses landing on every inch of your breasts, some even trapping the erect nipples between his eager lips, only to be suckled hard in kind. Moaning louder, you reclined on the kitchen island, feeling the cool marble soothe your back as you tightly held on to his hair. Heat forming in between your thighs, you inhaled deeply, attempting to keep your composure before you would spontaneously combust. 


As you inhaled, something deliciously fragrant caught your attention. Smells like Risotto…Wait. Suddenly, your eyes widened with realization.

The Risotto!

“WAIT!”

Startling Lucifer, you sat up in a flash. Leaning to your side, you opened the lid in a hurry, letting a sigh of relief. The rice has dried up more than it should, but thankfully it was not burnt. Turning off the stove, you looked back at him with an embarrassed look, “Sorry about that…” you said. 
“Oh, on the contrary…” he said, with messy hair and a proud smile “ A post-coital meal is always a life saver” he added. You smiled back, “Yeah, and You’re gonna thank me for that later” you said, gasping with surprise as he pressed his forehead against yours. “Oh, I assure you… I’ll be thanking you… a lot tonight” he purred, his nose brushing against yours. “Uh huh…” you murmured, “…kiss me-” you demanded. “Gladly” he replied, lips hungrily latching on to yours. Breaking away, you groaned in frustration, “…fuck me” you said, eyes burning with lust. “Don’t mind if I do…” he replied in an instant, with your legs wrapped around him and his eager hand cupping your breast.

Holding his face, you felt your deepest desire bubble up inside. The desire that you never thought would see the light of day. “Love me…” Your eyes reflected your words in equal measure as they locked in with his, pleading him with sincerity. Breaking off, he looked surprised. Concern crept back in to your heart, for you did not know what to expect.

But before your concern grew stronger, you felt his thumb graze over your lips, you saw his eyes soften, as he replied firmly:

“With all my heart…”

___________________________________________

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed this! <3

TAGGED: @yolobloggers @deadly-algebra @duhitztrinidy @ladyate @xxbeckybeexx-blog @kind-wolf @nightshade7117 @anita-e-taylor

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[galaxae]

3, 7 and 18 for as many as you can answer; btw do you still have an ocs page? like with introductions and all that

wow this took forever oops!

tysm for the ask!! i’ve been meaning to make a carrd or something with oc intros, but i have so goddamn many ocs and so little time now that i’m in college and all that. and i have the code saved from my old pages before i remade, but those are kind of outdated and incomplete

that being said i’m probably gonna end up making that carrd regardless of how busy i am cause special interest indulgence and all that, so i’ll post about it when i do

anyway! i’m putting the actual oc answers under a readmore because i’m gonna try to do all the ocs i listed and it’ll be kinda long lol

3. What does your oc’s voice sound like? (Or, if you have one, what’s their voiceclaim?) Can they sing, whistle, or roll their rs? Do they have any speech impediments or notable dialects/accents?

how does one even describe voices... ok here goes

avani: she’s my character for a ttrpg campaign, so her voice sounds basically like mine (which might not help much cause you don’t know how i talk lol), but when i’m talking as her i pitch my voice up a bit and make it a bit more nasally. she’s not much of a singer, nor can she whistle, but she can roll her r’s pretty well. also, since she’s autistic and hard of hearing, her tone of voice often comes off the "wrong” way

farhan: he’s another ttrpg character i play lol, or at least he will be next semester, so his voice is again kind of like mine. but when i talk as him i pitch my voice down and it’s a bit hoarse. ig his voice would also be more “masculine” than mine but whatever. he can sing and whistle but has a pretty small vocal range (since he’s, like, 13 right now and will be 16 when i rp him next semester)

carter: i imagine his voice as low and on the quiet and raspy end, with a tiny bit of a lisp. he’s way too insecure to try to sing or even whistle or anything like that, though if he practiced at it he’d probably get pretty good

calira: she’s mute so n/a i guess. but she talks pretty formally in her dialect of elvish sign language, which is definitely unusual

sam: they have kind of a low voice that’s also raspy, but with quite a bit of pep and variation in their tone. they can even sing pretty well and they like to whistle constantly while working. that creates some kind of whiplash cause sam comes off as a typical edgy teen a lot of the time

jizoriel: high-pitched with lots of voice cracks, peak pretentious preteen/early teen jerkass. he can’t really sing or do anything similar, nor does he want to very much

victoria: so quiet and raspy that you can barely make out that it’s low and has a soothing and pleasant tone to it. she can sing well, or at least she could once upon a time

rowan: just! the happiest and most cheerful voice you can imagine! so much love behind how she talks! her voice fills up her whole head and the whole room!! and she whistles sometimes while she walks

ace: defies any masculine or feminine labels, smooth and cool in theory but they stutter quite a bit

charity: gruff but with a hint of cheer and clarity behind it that comes out when she’s startled. she loves to sing but can’t whistle and can’t roll her r’s either

jamal: i actually have a voiceclaim for him! it’s this (the voice that sings from 1:51 to 1:58)

kimberly: her voice is a bit high and a bit... idk how to say it exactly... i guess shrill would be the word?

fabián: his voice seems higher-pitched than it actually is cause he talks higher when he’s anxious, and he’s always anxious. it’s a bit hard to describe his voice otherwise tbh. i can hear it in my head but i can’t quite put it to paper oops. oh yeah also he has a great singing voice but never uses it sooo

7. What song reminds you of this oc? Does this match up with the type of music your oc likes to listen to?

this question opens up a wormhole cause i have playlists for many of these guys but instead i’ll just provide one (1) song for each and vaguely describe their music taste, how does that sound

avani: honestly “mr. capgras encounters a secondhand vanity” by will wood is a “her” song to me. her music taste leans a lot more toward older music though (like some classics from the 70s and 80s and such)

farhan: he’s still very new so i haven’t really found a song for him yet. but i know he absolutely loves peppy and energetic pop music and also sappy gay love songs

carter: (slaps my hand away when i try to type another will wood song) “fantasy island” by the shins always launches me into daydreams about him. which kinda roughly aligns with his music taste, he listens to a lot of those “mainstream indie” artists. he’d also listen to will wood because he’s gay and mentally ill <3

calira: one of my favorite songs on her playlist is “maximillian von spee” by dirt poor robins. but the music she listens to is basically all invigorating church-loving stuff with medieval-era instruments lmao

sam: “sometimes” by nick lutsko is an absolute bop and very much a sam song. sam actually doesn’t go out of their way to listen to music though, but when they do they listen to either the most soothing and relaxing stuff or to the angriest metal emo music. no in between

jizoriel: i’ll go the less emo angle here and say a song that reminds me of him is “upside down” by jack johnson. jizoriel’s music taste is like. old choir music and shit plus incomprehensible magical music that doesn’t even sound like music. if he was from earth he’d like my chemical romance

victoria and rowan: i’m grouping these two together here because a song that reminds me very strongly of both of them/their relationship is “human” by dodie. which actually fits very well into both of their music tastes!

ace: again, going the less edgy angle here, “auntie earth” by walter mitty and his makeshift orchestra. but ace mostly listens to uh, classical flute music and flute covers

charity: absolutely “dance and cry” by mother mother, that’s pretty much her theme song. it’s among her favorite songs in canon too

jamal: “tire swing” by los elk, since his arc is about letting go of childhood and all that jazz. he’s more inclined to listen to fun. and other pop artists and rappers and such. he likes janelle monae

kimberly: “best tears” by the happy fits for sure. in terms of her music taste though, her taste is pretty similar to jamal’s. they bond over being janelle monae fans

fabián: by god does “heal” by so much light fit him. his taste is that he rotates through three (3) specific obscure indie artists lmao, so theoretically i guess that specific song is included in there

18. How does your oc see themself? How does this compare to the way other ocs see them?

i am gonna do my best to keep these short cause this is a loaded question for all of them hoo boy

avani: how she sees herself: honestly the worst person alive. unless she spends every moment of her time trying to make up for what she’s done, she’s worthless, and she doesn’t deserve to love herself in any capacity how others see her: her brother (farhan) really looks up to her! most of the time. the superhero team she’s on (other people’s ocs) all think she’s generally smart and capable enough, and her boyfriend in particular thinks she’s incredible

farhan: how he sees himself: as of right now? a misunderstood emo middle schooler who’s still kind of cool i guess how others see him: his sister (avani) thinks he’s quite an impressive and charismatic young man

carter:  how he sees himself: 1/10 awkward and annoying how others see him: carter reminds calira too much of her old self, so she love-hates him. sam thinks he’s weak and cowardly but admires his kindness. and jizoriel clings to him as a caring father figure and loves carter’s passion for natural studies

calira: how she sees herself: it goes back and forth between “i’m the greatest chosen one ever im such a strong warrior” and “wow i’m literal trash why did the gods pick me for this” how others see her: carter is a bit intimidated by her but appreciates her attempts to vibe with him, sam thinks she’s an annoying pretentious self-important bitch (but their opinion softens over time), and jizoriel sees right through her facade and feels comfortable around her because of it

sam:  how they see themself: evil and in need of redemption, kind of similar to avani ig but with 10x more confidence in their skills and also much more violent how others see them: carter knows theyre doing their best even if theyre kind of an asshole, calira is a fan of their strength and determination, and jizoriel Hates Their Guts (at first) because they baby him too much

jizoriel: how he sees himself: a fucking fraud of a prince. all he has going for him is his abilities as a mage, but even then those are shaky how others see him: carter knows he’s very insecure and wants to comfort him, calira admires his magical prowess and noble air, and sam thinks he’s a snarky little pretentious douchebag but also he reminds them of their late brother and they want to protect him at all costs

victoria: how she sees herself: basically dead. only good for interacting with ghosts. not worthy of the human world or of friendship how others see her: she reminds rowan of her old self. rowan sees a glimmer of love and hope in her and wants to bring it out

rowan: how she sees herself: a fucking mess but she’s trying her best and that’s what counts! how others see her: victoria very much appreciates her cheerful air even if she doesn’t act like it

ace: how they see themself: way too weird to be human, way too weak not to be. their self-image changes constantly. theyre very confused about everything please help how others see them: charity is literally dating them lol she thinks theyre the cutest person alive, jamal appreciates how hard they try as a friend, kimberly thinks theyre an alien invader whom she can study and use to get further in life, and fabián knows more about ace than anyone else and loves them for it

charity: how she sees herself: a Teenager who’s struggling. she desperately wants to be young without the burden of her trauma but whether she thinks of herself as emo and sad and angry or not depends a lot on her mood how others see her: ace adores everything about her, jamal loves how cool and fun and sociable she can be, kimberly is annoyed with her rebelliousness, and fabián worries very much for her well-being and can’t shake the image of her as helpless (oops that’s gonna cause some drama)

jamal: how he sees himself: just a chill guy trying to get by. unremarkable. how others see him: ace is grateful for how forgiving he can be but is still terrified of him being angry over [spoilers], charity loves how sociable and fun he is and how protective he can be of his friends, kimberly secretly envies his carefree nature, and fabián sees him as a solid acquaintance to whom he did not give a good first impression

kimberly: how she sees herself: not good! if she can’t grow up fast and do science well then she’s useless how others see her: ace wants to be friends with her but doesn’t know how to do that, charity is annoyed by her rule-bound-ness, jamal thinks she’s cool but should unwind a little, and fabián resents her at first but would still like to play chess with her sometime

fabián: how he sees himself: he has a moral responsibility to help people Or Else. way too anxious and stuck up but he doesn’t know how to change that how others see him: ace fuckin Loves this guy, charity loves him too but she gets pissed when he tries to help her with anything, jamal genuinely thinks he’s a great guy and wants to get to know him better, and kimberly is actually impressed by him and envies his apparent confidence and charisma

ok ok that’s it i promise. sorry this is so long and tysm for reading if you made it this far!! feel free to ask more oc questions literally whenever, that goes for anyone reading this <3

[parkeraul]

pull me in — 1

a/n: i wanted to insist on grease!shawn and if you like it, i’ll publish the other parts. not sure it’s gonna be longer than 5 chapters, but hands up: badboy!shawn ahead.  warnings: cursing, mentions of hook ups.  words: 3,7k

She doesn’t know how many hours she spent awake instead of going immediately to bed after a long day. That was typical of her to avoid resting in order to sit down in front of her mirror and brush her hair, strand by strand, to let the thick light-brown locks be correctly fixed even though no one’s going to see her in her sleep. Also, she always had this compulsive manner of rolling her bangs into that big & pink hair curler her grandmother gave to her a few years ago for her birthday — because OH-MY-GOD a lady should always be prepared to every situation, no matter the time; you HAVE to look good. Who knows if the love of your life isn’t coming for you at anytime? It’s hard to deny that her grandma does have a point and, to be honest, there’s nothing else in the world that she loves more than spending time alone to take care of herself. People at school call her preppy and it would be a lie if she said she doesn’t agree [or isn’t kinda proud of].

At the moment she feels her eyes heaving and her body giving into the softness of the blankets and mattress, the glass of her window pulls her out of her serenity with a loud bang. She huffs and turns around, thinking it’s just the rain getting thicker and shooting ice stones all over the neighbourhood.

Another loud bang.

Snapping her eyes open, she breathes deeply to keep her patience centered. Since she was a little kid, patience was never her strong characteristic and everyone who knows her barely well can confirm this. There was never a possible second option, there was never a plan B — if she wants something, she’s gonna get it and good luck to the one who dares stepping into her way, because it’s certain that it’ll be the beginning of World War III.

Just when she thinks about grabbing another pillow to cover her ear, comes one more crash with more rocks at the same time.

The sound of the thin rain outside can’t ease her nerves like it always does; the cozy bedroom and the warm temperature of her covers can’t stop her from growling furiously like an angry little puppy while she sits down on her bed to remove the hair curler and toss it away, her grandmother’s voice annoying the inside of her mind with those classic words “You never show up to a guy without at least a decent hair” and God she never knew she’d hate the sweet but shaky tone of that voice so much. Getting up on her feet after pulling away the white fluffy covers, she grabs her curtains with all the rage she’s feeling to drag it across the window. Her face is scrunched in all possible ways, the cheeks turning into a dark shade of pink while the short hairs of her bangs are trying to come down back to her forehead. Holding onto the wooden base of her window, she moves it up and finds the reason to all the crashes against the glass. “What the fuck you think you doing?” She tries to scream and be low at the same time, spitting her words through gritted teeth at Shawn down in the middle of the street, holding two rocks in each one of his hands as the raindrops slips along his leather jacket. "Open up, Lyssa,” He yells back, dropping the stones to bring his palms to the sides of his mouth like she can’t listen to him being loud enough already to wake up her family. “You know you want to!” “First of all, asshole,” Inching her body closer to the lower edge of her window, she sets her head a little bit to the outside so she won’t need to yell. “From now on, for you only, it’s Alyssa Stempford,” Shawn rolls his eyes so intensely that Alyssa can get the sight of them going to the back of his head from where she’s standing on the second roof of her house. He crosses his arms, holding back that stupid smirk she doesn’t know if she loves or hates so much. “You done?” Shawn asks sarcastically, earning a roll of eyes from her too. “Second of all,” She prompts right after, tugging a strand of her hair behind her ear. “If it depends on me, you’ll putrefy outside while the rain makes the job of melting your body little by little.” Her frantic words are making her head tilt quickly as she speaks, those charming bangs that Shawn loves so much shaking lightly as she pulls back to pin her window down again. “Alyssa—“ “Good. Night.” The window slams shut after she pronounces her words in a paused rhythm, leaving the curly-haired boy still left in the wet asphalt with his white tank top getting soaked and he’s sure he’s gonna get a cold but whatever, something about Alyssa makes him crave her even in her angriest form — it’s sure a challenge for him and the tougher it is, the more he wants.

She’s back in bed, giving no fucks about curling her bangs again while the two heavy blankets cover her body again. Would she start crying? Never in Shawn’s wildest dreams. No ma’am. He can go on and call her heartless like he did once or twice, she’ll proudly wear it out and even wait for a trophy if you may, with golden-bright letters across it saying “Alyssa Stempford, the coldest bitch in Canada. Pickering, 1958.”

She has no time to facepalm and rub her face to vanish the stress away, the knocks are back along with his smooth voice she never admitted she loves hearing.

“Lyssa!” The sound of his tone is muffled by the closed window, as the rocks keep on hitting the glass repeatedly and he starts to reach notes like he’s performing a romantic serenade for everyone to listen how fucked he is for Alyssa. “Oh, Lyssa, don’t you go breaking my poor little heart…” Seriously? She growls again, leaving her bed one more time to open her wardrobe feverishly in search of any extra pillows to cover her ear because the truth is that she doesn’t wanna fall for him and his stupid ways to compel her. She’s tired of letting him think he’s in control when he’s actually just being the fuckboy everyone told her he is. There is a sudden silence that drags her to the moments when she first saw him jumping off his huge motorcycle, catching everyone’s eyes as he released those smooth curls from the helmet and got up, fixing his outfit and running a hand through the messy locks. She’s sure her jaw was threatening to fall down like it did when he started chatting with the people surrounding him, acting like a fairytale prince towards all the girls and making the boys jealous of his intimidating posture. Alyssa was fresh new in Canada, coming from one of the various countries she’d lived in due to her father’s job but finally landing somewhere she wouldn’t struggle so much with the language or ambient. And it would be so much easier with that broad boy, handsome as ever, sun cascading over his defined features and reddening his cheeks—

“Oooooh, Lyssa! You’re tearing me apart, baby, yeah…”

She’s so nervous that she wants to laugh desperately. Her fingers are curling to the inside of her hand, red nails punishing the skin like they’re about to rip it open and she stands on her feet for the millionth time that day — dramatic addition just like classic Alyssa does — and she doesn’t care to close the wardrobe door, going straight to the front of her window to open it, hopefully, for the last time that night.

“Shut the fuck up?!”

He grins quietly, staring up at the most beautiful girl in his humble opinion.

“I just wanna be with you, ooh with you,”

“I swear to Lucifer!”

“Stop screaming, darlin’, and kiss me instead…”

“I’ll fuck the shit out of you.”

“I’ll let you do anything, babygirl…” He clears his throat, smirking devilishly and thinking about the best rhyme he can do to get her weakening. “If you let me splay you… All over my bed—“

“Shhhhh!” Alyssa hisses urgently. If her father ever listens to this, it’s a fact that both Shawn and her are going to drop dead the next morning.  “What do you want after all?” His boyish smile seems to grow more and more, remembering about those days where they were making out so passionately in his bedroom. And in the back of the school’s building. And inside the diner’s restroom. And Brian’s house at the living room. Oh, and inside his dad’s car. There was also that time after French class after everyone was gone and the teacher left to look for the keys to the classroom’s door. The couch of his basement. The library. The parking lot after Elvis Presley’s concert. The backyard under the sunlight; the field next to the lake when they went out for a picnic; the movies; the garage of her house in the middle of the night; the locker room of the hockey team—.

“You didn’t give me a chance to talk to you today,” He says, theatrically pouting and feeling his poor little heart ache. There’s not a single second away from her that doesn’t punch him in the chest. “Mm? What do you say?” “You really think I’m talking to you after what I saw on tuesday?” “I was looking forward to this,” What a cocky piece of shit. “See? You read my mind, Lyssa,” Shawn bites on his lip to hold back a laugh and spread his hand open in front of him, like he’s coming out defeated by a bigger force. “Sorry, Alyssa Stempford.”

He’s ridiculous. That’s what she thinks. How can a boy be so beautifully annoying?

“Where do you think you’re going?” Alyssa interrupts his steps towards the front door, his frame nearly disappearing under her roof. “Gonna see if you finally remembered about using your keys this time.” Shawn managed to break into her house silently sometimes, unable to stay away from her cuddles and being surprisingly successful on not getting caught by her parents, tiptoeing upstairs in a way Alyssa would never understand — considering that he loves being pretty loud when he’s next to her, just to catch her attention and make her laugh so his chest and stomach would get all of those butterflies filling him up with love. “Uh-uh,” She clicks her tongue in denial after humming. “You stay right there, you’re not coming inside.” “But Lyssa, it’s raining in here!” Shawn whines, making puppy eyes to melt her heart as the water straightens his curls, hair clinging to his forehead and face getting all wet while the rain intensifies. “Go home then,” She says as if it’s simple for him. “There’s nothing stopping you.” “But you’re my home—“ “Oh, no! Ew!” He bursts into laughs, not surprised to have this reaction from her because she does that everytime he gets way too passionate for her taste. He can’t say he doesn’t love this, because it always leads him to the perfect opportunities to tease her until she gives into his kiss and stops being such a cold-hearted girl. His cold-hearted girl. Or at least it’s what he dreams of. “Let me in or I’ll start singing again.” “Why don’t you sing to your motorcycle? Oh, better: Why don’t you give your ex-girlfriend a ride to school while you make up those silly lyrics like you did two days ago?” He can tell she’s furious by the way she avoids looking at him, sticking a finger after the other to elect the phases of that horrible episode she had to see on tuesday. “I—“ Shawn exhales, puffing the air off his lungs to his cheeks and then out of them. He’s having a hard time staring at her, the waterdrops insisting on get into his eyes as he squints his eyelids to cover his irises partly. “I can explain that!” “Good!” She widens her eyebrows, faking an excitement. “Save your words to put them into a song. The paper is sure way more interested than I am.”

And just like that, stubborn as always, she storms away to the corridor and leaves Shawn talking to the sky above his damp body.

They’re both working quickly.

She’s fast to go downstairs and find the keys to set inside the lock, twisting the cold metal until she hears the soft click while the tree next to her window is dancing from side to side slightly, Shawn’s silhouette swinging with it as he does his best climbing all the way up to jolt his middle forwards and reach the window that she’d left open with the arm that’s not holding the wood for dear life. And of course it’s not his first time doing this. If there’s something Shawn can add to his resume is the gift of being a very talented and skilled tree-climber. God knows how many times he ran away from his own house and some other houses using trees and tricks he’d been learning for good years.

On top of the tree and holding onto the wooden piece that draws the base of her window, he brings his other arm and, when he finds the perfect balance, he releases his legs from the tree to push the material down — body rising as a consequence — until he’s able to set his leg inside her bedroom and feel the floor underneath his foot, promptly bringing the rest of his limbs with him.

He’s preparing to jump out of this window as quick as he got inside through it, because he’s soaking the carpet of her bedroom but just to make sure she won’t throw him, he closes it once more and fixes his hair, hand eventually coming down to wipe the droplets from his rosy face. Hearing soft footsteps trailing the way from the beginning of the corridor to Alyssa’s room, Shawn closes the curtains and freezes in place, not sure where to hide but hoping that the darkness wouldn’t let someone recognize his figure. As if.

But he immediately identifies the pattern of her breathing.

Yes.

The fuckin’ pattern of her breathing.

He had her sighs memorized from the many times he kissed her wonderful lips until she went breathless and from the moments watched her sleep in peace curled against his body at the times he broke into her house by the window or when she lied to her parents that she’d spend the night with her best friends to be on Shawn’s bed, rolling across it with his body hovering over hers and vice-versa until the sunrise.

She’s careful to close her door discreetly, the silk-blue nightdress swinging lightly when she spins in place to face the doorknob she’s holding, pushing it slowly until it’s closed. Too concentrated, she hadn’t noticed a taller frame coming behind her back with arms open and ready to embrace her.

“Lyssa, listen,” He whispers.

And there’s the perfect recipe for disaster.

“LORD JESUS C—“ She turns around, trembling.

“No, no, no,” Shawn instantly covers her mouth, holding her waist with his other arm still whispering as lowly as possible. “Shhh, it’s me, baby, it’s just me.”

Her eyes are wide open, mouth still parted against his palm and it’s almost like he can hear her heartbeat increasing insanely. Yeah, good luck for him to get out of this alive.

“Gotta keep quiet, love—“

“Don’t call me love!” She murmurs after pushing his arm away, hating him even more for smiling and graze her with both arms like she’s not even 1% mad at him. “Get out!”

“Not before you listen to me.”

“You’re ruining my carpet, you dumbass—“

“I’ll lick it clean if you close that pretty little mouth and let me explain why I took Bea to school that day.”

“Bea?”

“Beatrice Fitzpatrick, Alyssa Stempford. Better?”

“It’s the bare minimum.”

“C’mere,” He travels his big hands to cup her pretty face, watching her frowned eyebrows and the honey bangs being moved by his breath coming out of his nose, fanning the little locks. “I want a kiss first, eh?” He licks his lips before pressing them against hers and fuck it’s so delicious to have his mouth, all wet and smooth pecking hers slowly and repetitively. They’re both humming, this simple action sending a wave of desire to both their most sensible parts already and it would be even better if Alyssa hadn’t stopped when she felt his tongue poking out to slip past her lips. “Babe, stop! You’re being unreasonable.”

“I’m being what?”

“You know that there’s no reason to be jealous of her! We broke up ages ago,” They’re both sounding squeaky through their breaths, trying not to disturb anyone else. “Come on, Aly.”

“Okay,” She mumbles, walking to sit at the end of her bed and she’s a sight for him right now. Silky legs crossed, her arms stretched at her sides and giving him a slight view of the swell of her breasts and her tempting face tilts to the side, lightening a fire under his dirtiest thoughts. “You have 5 minutes.”

“Ha! Very funny—“

“Four and fifty-nine…”

“Really, Alyssa?” He puts his hands on his waist.

“Four and fifty-eight…” She lifts an eyebrow, internally warning ‘you better start before I change my mind’ towards his confused expression. She’s unbelievable; she’s impossible.

“Stop!” Shawn whines again, laughing and crushed. Alyssa’s stubbornness is tough to deal with and after months, he still doesn’t know how to act with it. After all, she always gets him on his knees for her, his heart says he’s gotta have her. “You’re being such a brat, Ly.”

“Four and…” Each of her fingers is coming forward to touch her thumb, her mind pretending to be working on simple math. “Fifty-six?! Time’s running, Peter Raul.”

“Alright, look,” And so he knees in front of her, facing her sweet legs and moving his wet curls away from his hazel eyes. “Mrs. Fitzpatrick called me, ‘kay? Saying that her car ran out of gas and she couldn’t reach her husband at that moment to bring someone to fix that. The car wouldn’t move, you know, Lys?”

Alyssa’s face is softening, although she’s still serious and not blinking, too distracted by his loving raspy-low tone and the little scar on his rosy cheek. She keeps quiet, waiting for him to go somewhere coherent with this.

“I can’t help it, the moms love me,” Shawn shrugs, grinning like an idiot. “Anyways, she asked me to pick Bea—, Beatrice up and give her a ride otherwise she would be late for class, which she can’t be because she’s been missing lots of classes.”

“Oh, how do you know that?”

“Mrs.Fitzpatricktoldme.” Hurrying his words to make it clear he isn’t making shit up, he says as his fingers come up to touch her shins and his mouth goes forward to place a sweet kiss on her knee. “You know me! I’m such a family boy, I wouldn’t say no to a favor.”

“Mm,” She resists, ignoring the knot on her lower stomach showing up as he drags his red lips up to the beginning of her thigh. “That’s all?”

“All, Lyssa,” He shuts his eyes close, feeling the warm flesh under his mouth as he plants open mouthed smooches on her leg. “Promise ya nothing else happened, that’s just it. Don’t be mad at me, babe.”

“Great,” Alyssa says, regretting treating him so bad but still not ready to say she’s sorry. “Now pull away, you’re soaking me.”

“That’s the intention, dumbass,” He inches closer, making a trail of wet pecks up her thigh as the skin shows goosebumps and chills take over her neck. “Let me stay the night?”

“Shawn—“

“Come on! I’m being good, I told you everything.”

“It’s too risky, we—“

“I’ll be quiet! No one’s going to know I’m here.”

“Who’s being stubborn now?”

“At least I’m being rational.”

“Do you wanna stay or?”

“I do! Please, please, please, please…”

He grabs handfuls of her legs and goes over her, kissing her exposed chest all the way to her neck — sucking softly at the sensitive sides — and stops at her mouth, brushing their noses and lips together while whispering his please over and over again. She lets her middle drop down on her mattress, looking up at the ceiling while she considers all the pros and cons of letting him stay. What if her dad sees them? What if he can’t sneak out by the morning? What if her brother invades her room like he does sometimes without further warnings? What if Karen finds out he wasn’t at Brian’s and comes to reveal her parents all the things about their relationship?

“Lyssa?”

Her mind is still somewhere else, thinking about a safe way to let this happen.

“Lys?”

She could make him hide inside her wardrobe on that big space she used to keep her blankets before moving them to the basement.

“Lyssie?”

Or she could lock her door and just tell her parents she’s having one of those terrible period cramps she gets sometimes.

“Alyyyyssaaaa…”

Better! When everyone’s ready to go to the Montgomery’s annual party, she can say that she’s too busy with Biology homework.

“Ly. Ly, Ly, Ly, Ly, Lyssa, Lyly, Aly, Aly-ly-ly,”

“What?” She nearly yells.

“Watcha thinkin’? He asks in a childish tone, chin placed perfectly between her round breasts covered with light freckles from last summer days. His fingers are drawing twisted lines along her sides, threatening to come up and cup her nipples pearling through the thin fabric. Shawn never gets tired of glancing at every detail on her body, smiling like the fucked boy he is for her only.

“Promise you’re gonna be quiet?”

“A hundred percent.”

“Not gonna break into the kitchen in the middle of the night?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Won’t snore?”

“I don’t snore!” Shawn comes out high-pitched, totally offended. How would a handsome guy like Shawn snore? No way.

“That’s the spirit!” Alyssa says ironically, raising her middle a little and Shawn doesn’t inch a millimeter, face still glued to her chest. She tugs at his wet locks, bringing him closer. “Gonna take those clothes off for me?”

“Would rather having you undressing me, pretty girl.” He whispers against her lips, biting at the lower one and pulling it to himself before letting the swollen flesh spring back to its place.

“Whatever keeps you away from wetting my entire bed.”

[the-prince-and-the-thief]

🔥 for the hot take you mentioned

//Were my takes not fiery enough for you? Because I do have more. 

Unless you meant about Akechi. Because uh... yeah. I can talk about that ALL DAY. But I don’t wanna torture you people. 

I guess my angriest hot take is this: “Naoto is trans” and “Kanji is gay” are shallow interpretations of what actually happens in the games. 

I’ll concede Naoto definitely is not gender-conforming entirely, and I’m pretty sure Kanji is bisexual. 

However the actual POINT of these shadows is I thinks something that got lost in translation. Rise gets it the worst but people don’t really try and give hot takes on Rise thankfully. 

Naoto- In Japan, there are “male” professions. There is still a lot of sexism in the workforce. It’s improving, but women have trouble getting into careers either because it’s a boys club or because they’re expected to get married and have children, thus must be housewives by default. I’m very pleased to say that this is changing a lot even now-- my host mother was working part-time while raising two kids, while her husband worked full time running a store. They’re both allowed to have careers, though obviously she’s taking charge with the kids. It’s becoming less of the norm. That’s not the case with detectives though. Naoto basically grew up being told that her interests were too masculine, that she was too young and female to be anything in the field she was passionate about, and that essentially, she couldn’t be a girl if she wanted to be successful. She wanted to be a boy because she wanted to be accepted for who she was. Which leads to Kanji!

Kanji- The reason he’s a walking gay stereotype (aside from rule of funny I mean) is mostly that that’s what he fears others see him as. He’s overcompensating on his masculinity because he was interested in girly things growing up and was basically told “you’re a freak, are you gay??? you’re gay right??? because you like girl things??? go away gay boy”. Boys thought he was weird and girls thought he was weird. They ignored him. He felt like nobody would accept him for just... liking fabric. It’s a crazy thing by western standards, but Japan isn’t exactly known for Johnny Versace, now are they? Japan has higher gender expectations than the west and he felt constrained by them. Also, he was having a gay panic, because he met a hot detective prince and didn’t know they were a girl. (Hence why I concede Kanji is bisexual, totally-- he liked Naoto regardless of what gender they appeared to be.) 

The point of their character arcs was “Gender conformity destroys people and makes them repress who they really are” 

not 

“LOOK GUYS WE HAVE A GAY GUY AND A TRANS GIRL WE SO PROGRESSIVE” 

I get how from a western lens it looks like these things??? and I don’t have a problem with people writing gay kanji or trans naoto! I like both of these things! I’m just tired of people taking a 5 second look at the shadows and going “yes, this is their entire issue. Let’s just ignore all the subtext and cultural critique and reduce them to look it’s a gay, be happy, there is a gay.” I want people to push for real representation in Atlus works. They’ve done it in the past. Jun Kashihara is a thing. WE HAD A PROTAGONIST THAT WAS A LOSER BISEXUAL BIKER. But people are looking for representation where it isn’t, and then other people who don’t know better are making these out to be bad representations of the LGBT community when that wasn’t the point these characters were made to express. 

(Also, do y’all REALLY want the gay bathhouse dungeon as a symbol of LGBT in video games???? I’d much rather have Yosuke coming to terms with his complicated sexuality and feelings towards Yuu Narukami any day.) 

I’m probably gonna sound like an asshole saying all this but I just wanna clarify?

I’m not saying you can’t think Naoto is trans. I’m not saying you can’t think Kanji is gay. I’m just saying there’s more to them than that, and I wish people would actually try to learn about the culture that creates these games and ideas so they could really understand the depth that’s in these games. I see a lot of people judging art entirely on how THEY view it rather than understanding the author’s intentions, the message presented, and then adding their interpretation onto that. 

Media analysis is something that I’m super passionate about. I’ve been that way since I grew up being told that my hobbies would make me a killer. (Decades later I’m still a pacifist, Fox News. Just saying.) So it’s... frustrating to me. I wish more people were taught to be media literate. There’s so much value in the persona series, in art, in learning about other cultures, and in trying to understand a culture through their media. I wish more people could get that out of the media they watch. 

I’m gonna stop bitching now lol. 

[defleurtradingco]

Epoch- Disarm

(Previous: Dare, Next: Dreams)

“-now that jump was somethin’ else- I din’ think ya had it in ya ya look so- kinda like- no offense like low ta the ground there-” “And here I thought’cher long’n’lankiness was gonna do ya in since it’d take longer fer ya ta slip outta th’ way!-”

Solaina could hardly pay attention to Monte and Verdei’s banter going on beside her as Adrian directed the Area 51 troops to their designated areas.

Most of the Weres had been taken into custody, provided they didn’t flee beforehand, the angriest one of the bunch being the alligator with a metal clamp of some sort tied around their jaws.

Anja, for what it was worth, had not succumbed to Adrian’s bullet, and had been wheeled out on a gurney and into an ambulance car, giving Solaina one final glare before the doors shut. She would live, Solaina heard. But whatever happened after that was out of her hands, as it was in Adrian’s jurisdiction now.

As she looked away from the flashing lights and cars, she spotted two others coming from the facility building. Before anyone could intercept them, Solaina went to greet them quickly, waving off anyone who had come to interrogate them.

“There you are- I was worried about you.” She almost sighed with relief.

Gray kept his eyes on the floor, while Leddy bounded happily beside him. “We’re here! Outside! Got a little stuck, but I crawled out. I found him too!”

“Did you? I am sorry I did not come back to find you, I had gotten into trouble too.” Solaina apologized, trying to smile. She could not.

“Nah,” Gray shook his head. “...Figured that psycho went after ya...Kinda heard it a bit. Well, th’ yelling.”

“I see… Did you...” She paused, unsure if she should continue. “...Did you get your answers?” The cat-man shook his head again, “No. But,” He let his shoulders drop. “That’s just how it goes sometimes huh,”

“Hey!!” It didn’t take long for Verdei and Monte to come jogging up from behind her. “There ya are- where th’ hell YOU been th’ whole time?? Here?? Cuz if ya think I’m fergivin’ ya fer that whole run-around-” Verdei began, only to be interrupted.

“Yeah yeah I know- sorry. Things just kind of happened and got crazy.” Gray muttered.

“Damn right they did! Ya realize I had a twenty ton alligator-dude chasin’ me n’ th’ boney dead guy all around th’ place like a dog chasin’ a prime rib tied ta a string?!”

“I mean I was just a bone, this guy’s the prime rib,” Monte thumbed towards Verdei.

Their banter began again. Gray gave Solaina an apologetic look, as did she, before they and Leddy moved away from the two.

“...Ain’t anythin’ left for me here. Figured it’s time I move on.” “WHAT ABOUT ME?!?!” Leddy whined.

“You too.”

“You should sign on with our Were program- they will be able to get you the help you need-”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Solaina frowned, “But, you would be safer that way-”

“If anything it’s just gonna complicate things more’n they already are. I caused you enough trouble already, and almost got you knifed by a crazy bitch when I led you right to her. I think I’ve done enough here for one day.” He let his head hang. “I’m sorry.”

“Nevermind it. Please, reconsider, at least.” “I’ll think about it. ...C’mon kid, let’s go.”

“GO GO GO GO GO- where?” Leddy raced ahead and stopped briefly to look back.

“Not sure yet. Vegas is gettin’ old. Maybe somewhere different.” “Oooh! How fun! Ok, LET’S GO!!!”

Gray gave Solaina a final nod before turning and walking away with his hands in his pockets, with Leddy following closely after him.

She watched until they were gone.

“I find it strange they are walking out into the desert, and not to the road just south of here.” Adrian came up from behind her then, with his hands held behind his back. “Will they be all right? I could call in transportation for them.” Solaina exhaled softly through her nose. “...They will be fine...”

“Hm,” Adrian dipped his hand into his pocket, pulling out a packet of cigarettes and his lighter. He offered one to her, but she refused. “I did get all of your messages.”

Solaina stared out into the desert. She couldn’t see anyone out there. “Did you,” She asked blankly.

“From there I had managed to connect this facility to a name, and that name, back to us. Unfortunately, by the time I discovered enough to act upon it, you had already gone ahead. I could not get into contact with you.”

She didn’t answer. If anything, she was more disarmed by the fact Adrian had bothered to look into the matter at all.

“I stumbled into your policeman friend, then. By chance. Or rather, he did to my car. He told me about the rest on the way here.” A cloud of smoke blew out of Adrian’s mouth on the exhale.

“...You were right, you know.” He added suddenly.

Solaina’s brows furrowed in confusion as she looked up to him.

“The fact that this facility had been running for this long without us truly being aware of it. We had record of its existence, but not of its operations. I always believed keeping eyes too close to places like these was too, intrusive. There is a fine balance.

One I have trouble finding, most times.” He pulled his spent cigarette from his lips and flicked it into the dirt, stepping on it. “Had you not gone in on your own, who knows what else could...or would have happened.”

“..I do not know.” Solaina answered, still dismayed by the whole thing. “… Some of the things she had said to me were… not incorrect.”

Adrian raised a brow.

“How we are in control of almost everything, and how we keep everything segregated for their own good, for their safety. Is it really the right thing to do? We are not the police, and I do not think we should be, but...”

“Imagine what it would be like if we were not there.” Adrian continued.

Solaina felt herself swallow the lump in her throat.

“It would be worse. You know this. Grandfather knew this. That was why he started this, remember?”

“...I know...”

Adrian sighed, shifting his weight as his hands came back into his pockets. He stared off into the desert alongside her then. “...I do not claim to know everything. I doubt I ever will. But, we are here to continue the legacy. Because it is better for everyone in the long term. Maybe one day we can find a way to bring everyone together.

But not today. Not yet.”

It wasn’t what she wanted to hear. She wasn’t sure WHAT she would have preferred.

She folded her arms without realizing it was cold.

“Nevertheless,” Adrian unbuttoned his coat and pulled it off, dropping it around her shoulders. “I will clean up here. A car is ready to take you back to the base when you are. Do not worry about here.

And please, don’t run into a place you do not know that hates you without a gun. If you would.”

Solaina sniffed and looked over her shoulder towards him. “I will try not to, next time.”

As soon as Adrian had returned to the scene, the other two came again.

“Solaina I swear ya gotta stop leavin’ us behind here,” Monte complained. “That’s how we ended up almost bein’ eaten n’ turned into who knows what. Ain’t keen on doin’ THAT again!” “Me neither. Where’d Gray head off ta? Do I gotta hunt him down again??” Verdei asked, looking around. There were no signs of him or the weird scorpion thing. “Shit-” “He decided to leave on his own. I would not worry so much if I were you.”

“Now I know yer just sayin’ that.” Verdei scoffed. “...But I’ll deal with that later… guess if it weren’t for you, this whole thing wouldn’a been busted. I just dunno what I’m gonna tell my superiors now is all,” “Ya could lie an’ say ya weren’t here.” “Yeah, I ain’ doin’ that.” Solaina cleared her throat. “We will be filing a report with the police and following up with them, do not worry. We will try to make it as simple as possible, for everyone.”

“If that’s even manageable, then I suppose it’ll hafta do. I should get back home. M’ damn exhausted...” With that, Verdei came forward a step, holding out his hand and smiling. “Nice workin’ with ya DeFleur. Don’t think I’ll do it again soon but, if I had ta,”

“IF ya had ta.” Monte rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms.

Solaina smirked weakly. “If you had to. It would not be so bad.” She shook his hand.

“Nah. Don’t do anythin’ I wouldn’t.” He gave a final wave and a wink at the both of them before leaving them alone.

Monte sighed loudly. “Well… I dunno about you but I’M ready ta go home. Betcha are too huh?” “Yes, more than ever.”

As they both walked towards the car that would take them back to the base, Monte paused before getting in to look at Adrian from afar. “Looks weird when he’s actually doin’ his job. Don’t think I ever seen that before.” Solaina grunted as soon as she took the weight off her feet, letting her head rest against the car seat as she closed her eyes. “It is strange, isn’t it.” “Looks too much like his gran-dad. Gives me th’ creeps.”

“Grandfather is not that tall.” “Yer right. My mistake.”