#my sister just keeps getting gifts and free stuff everyone always pays for her shit and shes never thankful and she just keeps asking for | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

6knotty6thotty6 · 4 years ago

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So a couple of months ago, I saw a YouTube video that was an audio recording of season 5, episode 6 of Bojack Horseman, “Free Churro.” In the episode, the main character, Bojack Horseman, spends 20 minutes giving a eulogy at his mother’s funeral. There’s one big problem though, his mother was an abusive bitch. His eulogy is him trying to contemplate what she meant by her drying words, “I see you,” and whether or not she loved him. As someone who has a dead parent who was abusive, this is probably my favorite episode of any show ever for how much it helped me understand my feelings. The comments section is filled with people sharing their pain with their abusive families, but one comment stood out to me above all the others by how raw and relatable it was. This comment was by a YouTuber named Moonstruck. At the bottom of this post is a link to her channel. Please support her. After reading this, she deserves a million subscribers. Also please watch Bojack Horseman. (I corrected some of the grammatical errors to make it easier to read)

Disclaimer: Child abuse, bullying, trauma, and mental health:

Moonstruck:

This is a great monologue, but one part of it, in particular, really caught my attention was the 'grand gesture' bit.

When I was a kid, I read this book called "Chicken Soup for the Soul." There's a shitload of them. I don't remember which particular one it was. I hated the whole series because it's just someone profiting off a bunch of other people's stories rather than trying to write their own, in my opinion.

Anyway.

This one story that I remember, the ONLY one I remembered, was sent in by a little girl. She wrote about how her father never told her that he loved her. He never once, in her whole life, said the words "I love you." I don't remember her mom being mentioned, maybe she was dead; it doesn't matter. The point is her dad was basically an emotionless asshole. Well, one day, this girl gets sick. Really sick. Possibly on her deathbed sick. She wrote that one day she woke up to find a necklace sitting on her nightstand that had a pendant that looked like her dog. She said she held it to her heart and cried because that necklace said all the things her father never had.

I thought, "What a load of bullshit."

A cheap trinket doesn't make up for years and years of emotional neglect. Anyone can buy a thing and toss it your way. Hell, he didn't even hand it to her himself, just left it there for her to find if/when she woke up, then left her alone again to possibly die.

A lot of people say that actions speak louder than words, in cases like political protests and shit. While that's true, scenarios that this that girl are different. Gifts can never replace the words, "I love you."

When I was a kid, my father never told me he loved me. My mother didn't either, but she's a whole other kettle of fish. I would say 'my biological mother or father,' but I never got adopted ones, so who gives a shit. Anyway. My father was rarely around, and when he was, he just spent the entire time fighting with my mother and leaving again. He would do and say anything that could get him to spend less time in the house with her. With us. I can't blame him. If I could've left during those times, I would have. I tried more than once. I even earned the nickname 'runaway' from a family friend because of it.

I was told that I was worthless as early as I could understand words. I don't know what it is about me that set my mother off, but she HATED me. I was always told how expensive I was to keep alive and how I wasn't worth it. If I dared ask for anything, she would remind me how much she spent just to keep me from starving to death and that it was too much already. On the rare occasion I was given something, it was so she could use it as a threat. She was like, "Sure, you can have that toy horse since we got your sister a real one, but you better behave or we'll give it to her and let her break it." Or "Oh, fine, we can keep this dog as a FAMILY pet (NOT YOURS), but if you do something we don't like, we'll take it away and kill it."

Oh, yeah. I have a sister. She’s cut from the same cloth as our mother. I don't consider any of them family anymore. She was two years older than me. She was the "we should have stopped while we were ahead" kid. Anything she wanted, she got.

"Mom, can I have an award-winning horse and expensive dressage lessons?"

"Sure!"

"Mom, can I have a car?"

"No problem!"

"Mom, can you pay for my ballet lessons?"

"Absolutely!"

She was the golden child. The one that could do no wrong and wasn't a mistake. Even after she totaled her car, got arrested for an underage DUI, and got pregnant three times in high school, she was still the good one. I never even asked to go to school dances, parties, or go out with the one friend I had. My sister liked to see me in pain. She'd tell our mom that I did things just to get me in trouble. Whether it involved blaming me for things she did or fabricating stuff, she'd say whatever it took to get my mother to beat me while she watched and laughed. Oh, yeah, our mom was BIG on physical punishment. I've been whipped with everything from a riding crop, a wooden paddle, spoons, and especially belts. Anything that was close at hand when my mother got irritated, I've been hit with it.

At one point, my sister had three tall, beautiful show-worthy horses. I was allowed to keep a sickly old pony for all of a week before she was taken away, then I'd get called ungrateful for asking why we had to get rid of HER instead of one of the horses. Even though my mother said it cost too much to keep them all. With horses being obviously too rich for my blood, I asked for something cheaper, and for once, I got it. I was given a baby goat that one of our neighbors' goats had abandoned for being too weak, and they didn't have time to raise. I loved that goat. I bottle raised him, and named him Ben. He was my best friend for a while. When he grew up, he got so big that I was able to stand on his back to grab tree branches and pull them down so he could eat the leaves. I walked him on a leash like a dog every day. I loved him so much. My mother had me enter him in a show, and we won ninth place! I was thrilled to have something to show against my sister's collection of dressage show ribbons. I finally had proof that I could do something right! Sure, the prize money was taken away from me, but I still had Ben.

But Ben didn't come home with me after the show. It turns out he was sold to a slaughterhouse because that show was for meat goats. I didn't know until he was already gone. Of course, my mother punished me for being upset and even forced me to write a thank-you card to the people who bought his meat.

My mother was always like that. Anything I loved was used as a threat. I eventually accepted that loving anything was a waste of time. I learned to detach myself from my feelings, and I got really good at it. I can completely turn off my emotional reaction to anything. One time I had to put down one of the egg-laying hens at work that got too sick to save, and I felt nothing while bringing down the ax. When I lost out on a job that could have changed my life, I told myself how stupid it was to hope for anything good. Any positive emotion I felt got me punished, so I learned to feel nothing at all. To this day, I still have trouble feeling things, even when I want to. I'm taking pills now, and they help, sometimes.

I've had several suicide attempts. I keep a box of razor blades in my desk just to have them close. I got a tattoo of a heart with rainbows on my wrist. Partially for LGBT solidarity, but mostly to remind myself that there is still beauty in the world. I still struggle with wonder if I actually believe it or not.

I've tried so hard to be a good kid. I never partied, never drank, never smoked even when the chances were there, and I would have greatly loved anything to make the pain stop or even just dull it a little bit. I was in the gifted and talented program at school and was able to graduate at fifteen. For a while, I was sent to a children's home where I was passed around to many people I didn't know, including a clown who I may or may not have actually been related to, until I eventually wound up out here where I am now. It's all pretty hazy, and the details get scrambled.

It's been 10 years since I've had contact with my mother and sister. I can't even keep in touch with the one friend I had, even after I lived with her. She's tried to reach out to me, but I just… can't. I try, but I can't. Sometimes, I can almost pretend that my past wasn't real. It's just a hazy fog that isn't really there. I want to believe that if I don't allow something, or someone, who was part of that past, someone tangible and real, into my life again, then the fog will go away. This is why I can't do it. I know I'm a terrible friend. Ariel, if you're reading this, I'm sorry. You're better off without me in your life anyway.

I typed all of this out because sometimes, about fifty dollars or so shows up in my PayPal from my father's email address. I don't know if it's from him or from her using his email, but it doesn't matter either way. The point is I know my mother is the one sending the money.

I know my mother likes to think she's a good person. She went to church every Sunday, and probably still does. She organized a lot of church events and participated in every church function. I had to be an altar server for several years until I aged out of it and was in the choir. She kept going to that church even after the priest got drunk, called me many horrible names in front of everyone, and was revealed to be a pedophile that raped a little boy at gunpoint. She probably still goes to that same church and organizes things. She likes being in charge. She likes having people look at her and say, "That there is a good person."

But are you, though, Mom? Are you really a good person? Were you a good person when you hit me? When you lied to me? When you laughed with my sister about how much I got hurt for things I didn't do? Were you a good person every time you told me you'd kill my cat or leave my dog at the pound? Were you a good person when you sold Ben to be eaten, knowing that I loved him? Were you a good person when you made me read "A child called It" and told me that you'd start doing the things in that book to me if I didn't behave? Were you a good person every time you told my father I was a liar whenever I tried to tell him what you were doing to me? Were you a good person when you told me I wasn't worth the cost of being alive? Were you?

Fuck you, Mom! Keep your fucking money! A necklace on the nightstand isn't enough. A trinket can't heal years and years and years of abuse and hurt. You can't hide these scars under dollar bills. I hope you die alone. I know I probably will, but I don't even care anymore. I lost the ability to care thanks to you. You can't make up for the things you did and the things you didn't say now. Too little, too late!

#child abuse #abuse #domestic abuse #family #survivor #YouTube #bojack horseman #forgive #mom #mother #friend #friends #story #personal #chicken soup for the soul #free churro #monolouge #father #dad

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alarawriting · 4 years ago

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52 Project #37: A Very April Christmas

Part of this originally appeared as Inktober 2019 #17: Ornament.

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“Where is my fucking box of Christmas ornaments?”

April was busily tossing everything Catrina owned down the stairs from the attic garret where she lived. “April! What the fuck! That’s my stuff!” Catrina yelled.

“Yeah, your stuff that you couldn’t bother to keep neatly like I told you to, and this is seriously a health code hazard,” April said. “But more importantly, you’re living in the room I put my Christmas ornaments in, last January, and I need to find them.”

“You keep tossing my stuff around like that and I’ll kill you, mraow!”

“It’s my house, bitch, and you don’t pay anywhere near a fair rate for the rent.” April moved on to the back of the attic, where no one lived. “Ugh, this place is a nightmare.”

Catrina came up into the attic. “Well, whose fault is that, meow? All that’s your mess.”

Behind her, Kelly stuck her oversized head up. “I think Marie Kondo needs to come to this house,” she said in a strong Japanese accent. “April-san, I can’t imagine that any of that stuff back there sparks joy.”

“Hey! What are you doing in my room? Sssss!” Catrina postured at Kerry Kitty with her claws out. “No other cats allowed, this is my territory!”

“Oh, then you don’t want me to bring up the things April dropped,” Kelly said. “Okay.” Her large paws opened and dropped the pile of clothing she’d been carrying.

“Wait, no!”

“Oh, so you do want me to help you bring up the clothes,” Kerry said. “Please make up your mind.” In her accent, “clothes” sounded a bit less like garments and a bit more like taco-craving corvids.

“AHA!” April brandished the box of ornaments. “Found you, you little motherfuckers!”

“April-san, your language. Emily might hear you!”

“Emily is probably eating the Christmas tree,” April shot back. “Make way, coming through, lady with large box here!”

Kelly jumped off the attic stairs with as much grace as a 5-foot tall bipedal cat with a giant head could achieve. Catrina dodged and rolled onto her own bed, or what was left of it after April had dragged it around looking for the ornament box. April, six foot two and model-slim with a frankly impossible body, toted the large box over to the attic stairs, balancing it on her shoulders, and then tossed it down, following that with a graceful jump to the floor herself. “Everybody gather round!” she shouted in her most saccharine voice. “It’s time for Christmas decorating!”

“Doktor Zapp isn’t here,” Lovey said in her sad, slow voice. “Don’t you think we should ask him to come upstairs?”

“Pfft, no. That nerd never wants to come upstairs. Besides, what do you care? He’s scared of dogs.”

“I’m not a big dog,” Lovey said, despite the fact that she was almost as tall as April herself. “Anyway, he’s only scared of bad dogs. I’m a good dog.”

“Goo dug,” Emily Egg agreed, thick baby fingers twined in the puppy’s fur. “Wuvvy goo dug.”

“Yes, I’m sure you said something, but no one cares what,” April said. “Sheonte! Cherry! We’re doing Christmas decorations!”

“We don’t celebrate Christmas in Ponyland, and I really don’t appreciate you trying to push your human customs on me,” Cherry yelled back.

“Fuck, no, you’re a children’s cartoon. What do they do for your holiday specials? I know you’ve got something that looks just like Christmas. Get your horse’s ass out here so I don’t need to keep yelling.”

Sullenly Cherry Blossom plodded out of her room. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“On Best Pony Friends. You’ve got to have some kind of Christmas-like holiday for the holiday specials.”

“We have the Festival of Friendship… I guess it’s kind of like Christmas. We give our friends gifts, and hang up ornaments, and make snowponies, and sing carols—”

“So what you’re saying is, it’s exactly like Christmas.”

“Minus the overcommercialization and people trampling each other to get the last copy of a cheap mass-manufactured toy, yeah, I guess.”

Kerry volunteered, “I used to be on the air right before Best Pony Friends. Their Christmas is very nice-looking.”

“It’s the Festival of Friendship! Not Christmas!”

“You just keep telling yourself that,” April said. “SHE-ON-TE! We are all waiting on you!”

“A Diva is never rushed,” Sheonte yelled from her bedroom. “Beauty and style like this takes effort.”

“Come on, bitch, they threw you out of the Divazz because you tried to kill Vivi and your ex.”

“They were fucking! In my bedroom! You’d have tried to kill them too.”

“I don’t think the language in this house is a very good example for Emily,” Lovey complained.

“I wouldn’t have tried to kill them too because that would never happen to me because Chad is a real gentleman who would never cheat on me,” April said.

“Yeah, too bad you such a ho you gotta cheat on him.” Sheonte finally made her appearance, strutting into the room like she owned it. Her Afro was lightly sprinkled with pale glitter on the edges to create an effect much like she’d just been walking in light snow, and she was dressed stylishly with 14-inch stiletto heels, a green velvet miniskirt, a white blouse that did not cover her multiply-pierced belly button, and a shimmering silver jacket. And many belts around her body that didn’t seem to actually do anything. And by “stylishly”, April meant “like a cheap whore.”

“Look, it’s not my fault that Chad is such a gentleman that he’s waiting until we get married. Saving yourself for marriage is a beautiful thing in a man, and I really appreciate his sacrifice! But I gotta get my pussy pounded by someone, and Mr. Vibrator can’t always do the job, you know?”

Lovey was covering Emily’s ears with her paws. “April! You can’t say things like that in front of Emily!”

“Oh, like she understands.” April walked up to Emily, smiling. The baby, who would be only slightly shorter than April if she could actually stand up, beamed up at her from her position on the floor. “Who’s such a stupid baby?” April said in the same cheerful tone that one would say “Who’s such a good dog?” to one’s good dog. “Yes, you are! You are a stupid little baby!” Emily laughed and clapped.

“Can we get this over with?” Catrina asked. “April fucked up my entire room and I’m gonna have to spend the rest of the day fixing it, mraow.”

“Yes, we can get it going now, since I’m here,” Sheonte said. “April, where are the ornaments?”

“Right here,” April said, and opened the box with a flourish…

…to an assortment of brightly colored bits of shattered glass.

“Oh, shit,” April said.

“I think maybe you should not have thrown them down the stairs,” Kelly said.

“Bitch, you tear my room apart for this?” Catrina snarled. “These weren’t shit to begin with, meow, and then you went and shattered them to pieces on top of that?”

“Yeah, these ornaments were shit before you broke them,” Sheonte said. “What’d you do, get a truckload of shiny glass balls at Target?”

Emily began to cry. “Owwmens!” she wailed, which probably meant “ornaments” but sounded entirely too much like “omens”.

“We knew how to do a Christmas with the Weargirls,” Catrina said. “We used to go over Batrice’s mansion and decorate with lights and a ton of different ornaments, meow. Gorgeous stuff.”

“Yeah, well, feel free to go live with Batrice. Door’s that way,” April said.

Catrina made a face. “They’re vampires. They don’t have any windows, sss.”

“This is very sad,” Lovey said, her permanent sad-hound-dog face emphasizing the sadness. “I’m very sad.”

“Owwmens!”

“AwOOOO!”

“Oh, for the love of Christ shut it, both of you. I know what to do.” April closed the box of ornaments. “To the Glitter Van! We’re gonna go to the Christmas store and buy ornaments!”

“Kissmas tor?” Emily asked, cheering up right away.

“Oh! I love Christmas store! Let me get Christmas kimono on before we go!” Kerry said, and ran off before April could stop her.

“I’m not dressed for going out,” Catrina complained. “I need to try to find something I can wear, meow, since you trashed my room!”

“Yeah, this is not a Christmas store look,” Sheonte said. “I’m gonna change into something better for going out.”

“This is California, it’s not like it’s cold,” April said.

“I didn’t say better clothes for cold weather, I said better clothes for going out. This shit’s okay for just hanging with you bitches, but if I’m gonna get Seen, I need to look my best.” She strutted back to her room.

“I don’t wear clothes,” Cherry Blossom said.

“Yeah, good for you.”

“But your mane looks like a stinking pile of dog doo. You need to go get brushed and get dressed yourself before you go out looking like that.”

“I didn’t ask your opinion, you nag.”

“That is a misogynist and ageist slur among my people and I’m going to post about your insensitivity on social media if you don’t apologize right now.”

“Apologize to this,” April said, giving Cherry the middle finger.

She sat down on her couch, defeated, as Cherry trotted away. “This is totally fucked up.”

“Don’t worry,” Lovey said, snuggling against April, trying to cheer her up by being a dog. “I’m sure you’ll be able to fix everything as soon as everyone gets ready and we can go to the ornament store.”

Lovey had been in this house long enough to know that “everyone gets ready” could take upward of 3 hours, and besides, April didn’t like dogs. She pushed Lovey away. “Easy for you to say.”

The door to the basement opened, and Doktor Zapp, dressed in his characteristic lab coat, goggles, and blue shirt that he apparently never took off, stuck his tiny head out. “What’d I miss?”

***

If it had been April’s decision, Lovey and Emily – especially Emily – would not be coming with them, but Emily was the one most enthusiastic about going to “Kissmas tor”, so obviously she couldn’t be prevented from coming along, even though she was a baby nearly April’s size, bigger than Cherry Blossom and Doktor Zapp. Ugh. As long as Kelly or Lovey watched her and April didn’t have to do it. She had her hands full with her sisters. They didn’t live with her, but they leaned on her hard enough it was practically like she was being their mom.

Cherry Blossom had a bag of apples she was snacking on. Loudly. She was sitting in the back of the Glitter Van, because she couldn’t sit in a seat for humanoids, so she, Lovey, and Emily were all in the back – Emily could in theory sit in a seat, but a baby seat large enough for her couldn’t. It was amazing how loud the sound of a pony chewing an apple could get all the way to the driver’s seat.

April honked her horn. “Jesus! Get a move on, people!”

From her vantage point in the front of the Glitter Van, she could see an endless line of tiny cars in front of her. Very tiny cars, about a fifth the size of her van. Traffic was always like this. Sometimes there was one of the buses or cars the BittyFolx drove around in, and sometimes some superhero’s tricked-out car, but generally speaking it was always the little cars causing the traffic jams.

Sheonte, in the front seat next to April, commiserated. “Fuckin’ wonderful, right? No matter what time of day you try going anywhere, there’s all these tiny-ass cars on the road.”

“I should just run them the fuck over,” April said.

“Yeah!” Catrina cheered from the seat directly behind April.

“No!” Kerry, from the seat next to Catrina, and Lovey, in the back, yelled. Well, in Lovey’s case, howled.

“That’s a great idea if you want the cops up your ass,” Sheonte said sarcastically. “Now I know white girls with money get away with a ton of shit, but even your lily white tushie ain’t gonna be able to walk away from running down a dozen little Wheels o’Fire cars.”

“Fuck this,” Cherry announced from the back. “I’m getting out and I’m walking.”

“That’s nice for you, you’re a fucking horse,” April snapped. “Maybe you can kick some of those goddamn Wheels o’Fire cars out of the way so we can get somewhere on this highway?”

“Oh, for God’s sake!” Doktor Zapp, sitting on the back row seat, shouted, with the German accent that came and went in his voice stronger than usual. “I have an invention that can make the car fly, will that do?”

“Well, why the fuck didn’t you say something earlier?”

***

The Christmas store was a roughly semi-hexagonal structure, if the bee creating the hexagon was drunk. Two different storefronts came together as one of the corners – a Playstuf grocery store, from the same line as Doktor Zapp, and a Pam in the Pocket clothing storefront. These were barely taller than April herself. The third side that made up half the hexagon was a large cardboard storefront, taller and deeper than the other two, with a smiley face on the visible outside of it.

The second half of the hexagon, such as it was, consisted of what had once been neatly laid out aisles of baskets containing Christmas decorations, except that the aisles had ended up scattered around by the actions of customers and employees, and probably the will of God. It was now less of a hexagon and more of a shapeless blob.

On the right of the Christmas store, outside the blob of the store’s merchandise layout, there was a Christmas tree. It, like the Playstuf and Pam in the Pocket storefronts, was only a bit taller than April herself. And underneath that Christmas tree, there were shiny boxes wrapped in reflective wrapping paper. These were very large for presents, about half as tall as Doktor Zapp.

A nutcracker soldier stood in front of the store, his jaw moving somewhat unnaturally. “Welcome to the Christmas Store! Welcome one, welcome all!”

Emily, crawling out of the van, saw the fake presents and immediately beelined for them, crawling eagerly. “Pwezens!”

“Oh, shit,” April said, as Emily, who was significantly larger than most of the people here, knocked over several of the baskets of merchandise, and at least one Puppy Pal carrying merchandise in her mouth, who barked at Emily in irritation. “Emily, what the shit? Get back here!”

“Pwezens!”

April sighed deeply, and then began walking away from the scene, toward the middle of the store, pretending she didn’t actually know Emily. Sheonte, Kelly, Catrina and Doktor Zapp were heading toward the ornaments, and Cherry Blossom had stopped to chat up a horse who was standing by the side of the store, waiting for its rider.

Emily grabbed the first of the presents and tore the wrapping paper up. “Emily, you shouldn’t do that!” Lovey said, ineffectually, and then started howling. “APRIL OR SOMEBODY, AWOOO! LOOK AT EMILY, ROOO!”

“Jesus Christ,” April muttered, “I can’t take that kid anywhere.” She stomped over to Emily, whose lip was wobbling in disappointment that the first box she’d ripped open was empty. “Emily Egg, get your baby ass out of those fake presents right now!”

Emily began to wail, sitting in her pile of wrapping paper and torn-up empty box. Lovey, never one to fail to loudly sympathize with a suffering child, started howling in solidarity. “AROOO!”

“For God’s sake,” April said. Now everyone was staring at her. “Emily, get back in the car!”

“No!” Emily yelled. “Want pwezens!”

“These aren’t presents, you idiot, they’re decorations!”

“Ma’am, you need to control your child,” the nutcracker said.

“Ugh. She’s not mine, I’m just her landlady – EMILY STOP EATING THAT!” April had to snatch silver wrapping paper out of Emily’s mouth. “Emily, if you’re not good, they’ll kick us out of the Christmas store! Do you wanna get kicked out of the Christmas store? And you won’t get any ornaments? And Santa will give you coal for Christmas?”

“BWAAAAH!” Emily wailed. “No! No! Want pwezens an owwmens!”

“Well, then you better be good! Those aren’t yours!”

“No pwezens?”

“No presents here. This isn’t even our house! How would Santa know to bring you presents here?”

“Come on, Emily,” Lovey encouraged. “Let’s go look at ornaments!”

“Owwmens!” Emily agreed, no longer crying, and crawled off with Lovey.

“This place really needs wider aisles,” April muttered.

Someone was sarcastically applauding behind her. April turned. “Jayda?”

“If it isn’t April,” Jayda said. “Winning Mother of the Year awards. I never thought I’d see you tied down with a kid.”

“She’s not my kid,” April said through gritted teeth.

Jayda looked very much like April herself, except she was black, with full, thick hair that had first been relaxed and then curled like the hair of a white movie star from the 50’s or something. “Really? There’s such a strong resemblance,” Jayda said dryly.

Sheonte came up behind April. “Jayda! Girlfriend! Ain’t seen you in for-ever! Whatchu been up to?”

“Oh, the usual,” Jayda said. “Photo shoots, modeling gigs… I just did a couple of commercials, and my agent is talking with a movie producer about getting me some acting work.” She smiled, smugly. April assumed the movie producer in question was the one that fired April for demanding top billing over her male co-star, who was in fact not nearly as famous as she was. She forced a smile onto her own face.

“Oh, that’s great!” she said in an incredibly fake voice. “I always knew you’d manage to snag a job that takes talent, somehow, eventually!”

“Anyway, April, since when have you been adopting kids? And how’d you keep the paparazzi from finding out?”

“You serious, girl? You think April would adopt a kid?” Sheonte laughed, loudly. “That ain’t April’s kid. That’s Emily Egg. You don’t recognize her?”

“I’m not really following the world of baby dolls,” Jayda said. “You know, I’m a young adult, and I spend my time dealing with young adults. We don’t really have time for babies.”

“She’s my tenant,” April snapped. “Not my best friend, and not my kid. Apparently she’s a big thing on the baby doll scene, but like I give a shit? I just care that the rent checks come in.”

“Oh, right!” Jayda snapped her fingers. “I remember now! You couldn’t get work, so you had to get roommates so you wouldn’t lose your house!” She made a very fake looking expression of concern. “Are you doing any better on the job market?”

“I’m writing a book,” April said, still unable to un-grit her teeth. “It’s a tell-all memoir about all the talentless bitches I’ve had to work with in my career. You ought to pick it up when it comes out! It’s got a whole chapter about you.”

Jayda rolled her eyes. “You’re so immature,” she said. “Better get back to your baby before she wrecks something else.”

Emily was knocking over baskets of ornaments. Lovey was moaning for her to stop and be good, but since she was a large dog without opposable thumbs, there wasn’t much she could do to stop the baby or clean anything up. “Jesus fucking Christ. Yeah, thanks for the heads up, but she’s not my kid.” She stomped off to try to deal with Emily.

“So how’s it goin’, girlfriend?” Sheonte asked Jayda.

“We’re not friends,” Jayda said. “We may have done a few shoots together, but I don’t even know you.”

Sheonte rolled her eyes. “It’s a figure of speech, girl. You gonna give me a lecture about family trees if I call you a sister?”

“Wasn’t it your sister you tried to kill?”

“No, bitch, it was my best friend Vivi, because she was fucking my husband. My sister is in high school, and she’s crushing it. Gonna be valedictorian at this rate. What’s your problem with me?”

“Seriously?” Jayda asked in disbelief. “Don’t you remember when April and Friends was competing with the Divazz, and you were a total jerk about it?”

“That was years ago.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not gonna be friends with you just because you’re part of April’s entourage now.”

“I am renting a room in her mansion. I ain’t gonna be best pals with her either. But you don’t wanna be friendly, that’s fine. That’s fine. No one needs a stuck-up snotty bitch like you for a friend, anyway.”

“Ugh.” Jayda looked at the ceiling, and then walked off. Sheonte shook her head.

“That bitch is the whitest black girl I ever met,” she opined, and went back to where Catrina was picking out ornaments.

***

Outside, Cherry Blossom was trying to talk to the horse. “So, you come here often?”

The horse nickered.

Cherry Blossom spoke words, not nickers, and had no idea what the horse had just said, but the apples she’d been eating ever since they got in the car were fermented, so she didn’t care. As much as she hated being stuck in this world where almost everyone was human and she was a universe away from her friends, there were compensations… like the fact that humans never questioned whether her apples were exactly fresh or not. Apparently humans only imbibed alcohol in liquid form, explaining why their word for intoxication was “drunk.”

“You know, if you wanted to go off on the side with me and, you know, put on a pony show?” She wiggled her rump and lifted her tail, batting her eyelashes. “That’d be nice.”

The horse nickered.

Cherry Blossom rubbed her face up against the horse’s side, trying to reach the horse’s face with her face. The horse turned its head so she couldn’t reach. “Oh, don’t be like that,” she said.

***

In the Christmas store, Kerry was chatting up Pippi Pig, a Swedish animal star almost as well known in the US as Kelly herself. “I didn’t know you were in the US!”

“I’m doing a holiday special,” Pippi said. “Pippi Pig’s Christmas! It’s my first big Christmas special!”

Kelly, who had done dozens of holiday specials, for Christmas, Obon, New Year’s, Doll’s Festival, Halloween, and many others, in America and in Japan, clapped her paws together. “That sounds so great!” she said. “You must be so excited!”

“Oh, yes, I’m very excited!” Pippi agreed. “Kelly, can I ask you something?”

“Of course!”

“I don’t mean to be offensive, but… is your name actually Kelly or Kerry?”

“Yes,” Kerry said.

“No… I mean, which one is it?”

“It’s Kelly or Kerry,” Kelly said, exaggerating the l and the r sounds so she could make it clear they were different. Normally, when she said one of those letters, they weren’t.

“But which one do you prefer?”

Kerry laughed. “Kerry was first,” she said. “Then I came to America and they called me Kelly. Then back in Japan they wanted to be like Americans so they called me Kelly. It sounds the same but when they printed it on the merchandise, it was Kelly. And then they changed their minds and decided I should be Kerry again. So either one is okay.”

“Wow,” Pippi said. “I guess I should be glad that Americans and Swedes can both pronounce Pippi more or less the same way, right?”

“Oh, I like it,” Kelly said. “I like to feel like I can be a whole new kitty every time I cross a border. Or anytime I want to, really.” There was a loud sound of breaking glass behind them, a wail from a large baby, and a howl from a dog. “Oh dear. Excuse me, I might have to do something.”

***

“That one, meow! I want that!”

Catrina had filled her basket with glittering things that moved. So far she had a pinwheel, a top (this wasn’t much good as a Christmas ornament, because it was half as tall as Doktor Zapp), a disco ball, a Santa Claus with a glittering beard that said “Ho ho ho” when you squeezed him, several strands of tinsel, a singing bird made of mirrors, and a butterfly covered with sequins. Also, a lot of Nativity-related stuff. The thing she was pointing at now was a bird made of sequins, hanging from a tree.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do about it,” Doktor Zapp complained.

“I want you to get it for me, meow.”

“I’m shorter than you! How am I supposed—”

“Yo, Catrina,” Sheonte said. “What is with all the cheap-ass shit in your cart?”

“Cheap-ass shit?” Catrina said indignantly. “These are gorgeous, mrow!”

“They’re tacky as all fuck. What’s with all this Baby Jesus shit? Basic as f, girl.”

“Yeah, well, what kind of ornaments were you gonna get?” Catrina snarled.

“Nice stuff. Like this.” She picked up a frosted glass ball. “Understated. Not in your face being all shiny. Maybe one of these.” This one was a very delicate white snowflake made of something fragile and light. “Not all shit that makes you look like some kind of magpie.”

“I’m a cat! I like shiny things that move!” Catrina snapped. “And calling my taste tacky is rich, coming from you!” She waved at Sheonte, encompassing her outfit, which consisted of a white fur coat, tall leather boots in gold, and a black miniskirt. Under the white coat, which was half open, she was wearing a black velvet tube top over a golden silk top. She also had half a dozen bracelets on one arm.

“Hey, bitch, my taste in fashion is cutting edge. You look like you’re wearing one of April’s rejects.” Catrina was wearing skinny-jean shorts, a chunky belt, and a light blue blouse with short sleeves. Her feet were bare.

“Hsss! You take that back, mrow!” Catrina backed up and flashed her claws at Sheonte. “I have my own fashion sense, not a ripoff of April’s!”

“Couldn’t tell by me,” Sheonte said lazily.

Doktor Zapp took the opportunity where neither of the girls were looking at him to head out of the main shopping area, trying to make his way over to Cherry Blossom, and accidentally bumped into an old man from the Galactic Rebellion franchise. “Watch it!” the old guy said, reaching reflexively to his side, where he did not, at the moment, have a gun.

Neither did Doktor Zapp – he’d left his ray guns in the lab. “Sorry!”

“You better be sorry,” the old guy said crabbily. “You see these joints of mine? I got carbonite all up in them. Got stuck in carbonite once and I’ve never been able to get it all out. I’ve been practically crippled ever since.” The substance in question appeared to be brown clay, and it was in fact in all of his joints.

Doktor Zapp commiserated, showing off his cyborg leg. “A dog got my leg here. I know how it is.”

“I got a friend who got his hand chopped off, got a cyborg replacement,” the old guy said. “Wasn’t any different from a real hand.”

“Yes, well. Mine is very obviously a cyborg leg.”

“Just don’t get carbonite in that cyborg leg. It’ll fuck you up for life.”

“I’ll watch out for that,” Doktor Zapp said, making his exit. As he headed toward Cherry Blossom, he muttered to himself, “If I got something in the cyborg leg, I would just build a new cyborg leg. Idiot.”

***

Emily was wailing. She had managed to knock over and shatter an entire basket of cheap glass balls. An employee of the store, who looked like Mrs. Claus, was chastising her and Lovey, who was whimpering.

“Listen, Mrs. I set feminism back a hundred years every time a little girl looks at me, you can shut up now. It was obviously an accident.”

“Obviously! But whose idea was it to bring a giant baby and a large dog to the Christmas store?”

“I’m a good dog,” Lovey whined.

“Look. The baby is my tenant. She pays her rent money, she says she wants to go to the Christmas store, she gets to pile into my Glitter Van and come here. And the dog is also my tenant, and was watching the baby, and I don’t appreciate your tone toward either of them.”

“Well, then maybe you’d have a better appreciation for this,” Mrs. Claus said snarkily, and handed April an invoice for all the ornaments Emily broke.

April turned to Emily. “Emily! Emily, the nice lady wants you to pay for the ornaments you broke. Can you pay for the ornaments you broke like a good girl?”

Emily nodded eagerly. “I pay for owwmens!”

“Great. I’ll pay the bill here and pass it on to your accountants, with a ten percent fee tacked on for having to deal with this bullshit, how’s that?”

Lovey gasped. “April! Don’t say that in front of Emily!”

“Whatever,” April said, rolling her eyes. “Emily, do we have a deal?”

Emily nodded again. “Uh huh, uh huh! I pay owwmens!”

“Great.” April handed Mrs. Claus her credit card and the invoice. “Run my card and shut the fuck up.”

Mrs. Claus’ eyes narrowed. “How does a baby have this much money?”

“She’s Emily Egg. She’s a star. Not my problem if you never heard of her.”

“But where is her mother?”

“Her mother is God. Now run along like a good little serf and take my money.”

Kerry reached the group. “Oh, April-san! That was very nice of you, to pay for Emily’s broken ornaments.”

“What’re you talking about? I’m sending the bill to her accountants. The kid is loaded.”

“Maybe I should get her out of the Christmas store,” Kelly said. “So there aren’t any more accidents.”

“No! Want Kissmas tor!” Emily yelled.

“More than you want ice cream store?” Kerry said enticingly, with a purr.

“Eye skeem store?”

“Yes, the ice cream store! Would you like to go there?”

“Uh huh!” Emily said. “Eye skeem!”

Lovey looked sad. Lovey usually looked sad, but now she looked especially sad. “They won’t let me in the ice cream store because I’m a dog,” she said, head hung low. “So I guess I’ll just have to stay here.”

“That is, how you say more politely than April-san says it, baloney? I’m a cat and they let me in. What if I tell them, they have to let my friend Lovey-chan in?”

“But they won’t,” Lovey said sadly.

“But they might. I am star too. Not so big as April-san but maybe big enough. Why don’t you come with us and I’ll wave money at them? It works when April-san tries it.”

“Maybe April shouldn’t be your role model, Kerry?” Lovey said uncertainly.

“Why not? I’m an awesome role model. Little girls all over America look up to me and wanna be me,” April said. “You guys go, get out of here. Kelly, good plan, you do that. Channel me.”

“I’ll be politer than you,” Kelly said. “But don’t worry, it’s not hard.”

As the dog, the cat with the giant head, and the huge baby made their way down the street to the ice cream store, which was also a Playstuf storefront, April turned around, sighing with relief that the giant baby wasn’t her problem anymore. It was in that moment that she ran straight into her sister.

Both of them fell on their butts, a perpetual hazard of walking everywhere in high heels. “April?” her sister said, sounding shocked.

“Madison?” April asked, equally shocked.

April had three sisters – Betty, Courtney and Madison—who were all perpetually teenagers. While they all looked to be approximately the same age, Madison was the youngest. They didn’t live with April, but they came around to visit and hit her up for money so often she felt they might as well.

“What’re you doing here?” Madison asked. “I thought you hated Christmas.”

“No, I just said that after the last Christmas special we did.” April had done considerable quantities of coke to get through that miserable shoot, and had been actively tweaking by the time the shoot was done. “What are you doing here?”

“Trying to buy a Christmas tree!” Madison chirped. “Have you met my new boyfriend yet?”

Madison’s new boyfriend turned out to be from the Galactic Rebellion franchise. He was dressed in a suit of futuristic armor. There was nothing organic visible on him whatsoever. “This is your boyfriend?” April said skeptically, looking down at him – he was only slightly taller than Doktor Zapp, and shorter than Emily would be if Emily could stand up.

“Yes!” Madison said. “Honey, did you find the Christmas tree section?”

“Yes,” the man in the armor said.

“Find anything good?”

“They looked dead. I told the salesperson, they’re no use to me dead.”

“Technically they are dead though…”

“Why don’t you get an artificial tree?” April asked.

“Ugh,” Madison said. “That is so unnatural!”

“Uh, yes. Yes, that is the point of having an artificial tree.”

“An artificial tree would be better,” Madison’s boyfriend said.

“They’ve got them in the back, in that area they’re refrigerating so it ‘feels’ like Christmas. Which is a terrible idea, by the way,” Madison said. “They’ve got fake snow all over the place, but it doesn’t melt, so it’s not fooling anybody, and no one’s dressed for cold weather…”

Madison’s boyfriend shrugged. “I can get the tree warm, or I can get the tree cold. Either way.”

“So can we come over for Christmas?” Madison asked.

“I’ll think about it,” April said, meaning no. “Look, Madison, I came here to buy ornaments and you’re in my way.”

“I want to come see you for Christmas,” Madison said. “Come on, April, we’re sisters. Stop being such a bitch.”

“All right, dammit, stop being such a pest! I have things to do!” April pushed past Madison, scowling.

“I love you too, big sis!” Madison yelled.

***

“Mrrow! Where are all the damn flowers?”

“What you need flowers so bad for, girl?” Sheonte asked. “We got plenty of ornaments.” They had both filled their carts at this point – Sheonte with gold ribbons, soft silk balls in white and gold, tiny beautiful angels in colors like silver, white, and gold, and fragile glass things; Catrina with nativity figures, brightly colored balls, shiny things, shiny things that move, and things that move that weren’t very shiny. Both of them had agreed that Santas and candy canes and ornament-sized stockings were tacky.

Catrina glared at Sheonte. “Back home in Mexico, we had poinsettias and lilies for Christmas. Where are the poinsettias, meow? What kind of a Christmas store is this?”

“You’re from Mexico?”

“What, you didn’t know?” Catrina looked at Sheonte like it was the most unbelievable thing possible that Sheonte didn’t know her ethnicity.

“Near as I could tell, you’re a cat.”

“Yeah, but I’m a Mexican cat, meow. All the Weargirls came from different places. Batrice was from England. Lulu’s American but she’s Cajun, from Louisiana.”

“I never hear you say anything in Spanish.”

“Eso es porque soy completamente bilingüe, puta.” At Sheonte’s look, Catrina snapped, “I’m bilingual. Been speaking English since I was a little kid. I don’t need to throw Spanish words into everything I say to remind people I’m Mexican like that puta gata, who’s gotta be all like April-san and san this and san that to remind everyone she’s Japanese.” Mrs. Claus walked past them right then. “Hey, you! Mrs. Claus! Where are all the poinsettias in this place?”

“We sold out of those last weekend.”

Catrina rolled her eyes. “Figures.”

“Guess you shouldn’t have waited for April to throw together a fake friendship trip to the Christmas store. Don’t you have wheels of your own?”

“I have a fucking motorcycle. All the Weargirls have motorcycles.”

“Yeah, well, if the Weargirls are so great why aren’t you living with them?”

“It’s not because I tried to kill any of them, I can tell you that.”

“Excuse me? Miss Sheonte?”

The newcomer was very, very short – shorter than Doktor Zapp, shorter even than April’s or Catrina’s arm. She was a Forrest-Pierce BittyFolx from the old school, but unusual looking—barely any hair, just a few red curls on the top of her head, and while most BittyFolx girls wore dresses that curved out from their bodies, her dress was completely straight.

Sheonte was plainly surprised. “Yes, that’s me. Who are you?”

“I’m your biggest fan!” the extremely tiny girl said, bouncing. “My name’s Biz. You are, like, my icon.”

“Why, thank you.”

“I love your sense of style!” Biz gushed. “I always wished I could dress like you, but…” She gestured at her perfectly straight cylindrical body. “I’m stuck with this stupid red dress. I haven’t even got anywhere I can put accessories.” Since BittyFolx had no arms or legs, and seemed to do all their moving via close-range telekinesis or something, this was absolutely true.

“Oh, girlfriend, anyone can have style.” Sheonte turned slightly to grab a piece of tinsel garland out of a nearby bin of wares. She placed it around Biz’s neck, where it looked like a boa. “There you go. You might need to tie it to make it stay on, but see? You can accessorize too! You just have to be flexible.”

“Oh, wow!” Biz lifted her boa without hands, since she didn’t have any, and gazed at it in wonder. “This is beautiful! You’re amazing, Miss Sheonte!”

“Of course I am,” Sheonte said, grinning. “But you’re amazing too. And now you can show the world.”

Catrina muttered to herself, “Back in my show, we didn’t have to teach kids to self-actualize through fashion, mrow. We just fought evil zombies.”

***

Cherry Blossom was attempting to drape herself over the horse, having consumed almost the entire bag of fermented apples. “Come oooonnn,” she slurred. “I’m loooonely. Can’t we goooo somewhere?”

“Cherry Blossom!” Doktor Zapp panted as he reached her. “You’re drunk? How are you drunk?”

Cherry Blossom smiled a huge horsey grin at him. “Apples!” she said drunkenly. “You humans never check the apples!” She then turned to the horse she was hitting on. “I got some for yoooouuu… you want one?” Using her hoof, which for some mysterious reason was able to lift apples as if it had opposable thumbs, she pulled an apple out of her bag and offered it to the horse, who nickered and tried to move away, except that Cherry Blossom was not letting that happen.

“Oh mein gott. I can’t believe this. We’re in public! Show some decorum!”

“I had me some decorum,” Cherry said. “I had frieeends. We had decorum. We saved the goddamn world, we had so much decorum! And have they come to get me? Noooo. So what good is fucking decorum?” She planted a sloppy kiss on the side of the horse’s head. “Come ooooon. I’m horny! I haven’t been with another pony since I got here!”

“The horse obviously is not interested in you,” Doktor Zapp said. “He keeps trying to get away.” The horse was tied to a post by the Christmas store. Doktor Zapp tried to grab Cherry Blossom’s mane and pull her away. “Let’s go home. You’re drunk.”

“No!” Cherry Blossom bucked, her hooves narrowly missing Doktor Zapp, who dodged. “I wanna stay right here with my boyfriend!”

“You don’t even know his name,” Doktor Zapp pointed out. “And also, he can’t talk!”

“I don’t need him to talk,” Cherry Blossom said, suggestively wiggling her rump.

A tall, thin cowboy, about April’s height, came out of the Christmas store, carrying a bag of ornaments. “Hey there, pardner,” he said. “What’s your horse trying to do to my horse?”

“She is not my horse—”

“I’m a pony! And I belong to myself!”

“She is my housemate, and she’s drunk on fermented apples—”

“And I haven’t gotten laid since I left Ponyland! I just wanna get railed, is that so wrong?”

The cowboy shook his head, not like he was saying “no” but like he was saying “I am just not even gonna deal with this.” “Well, pardner, I can see you got a feisty one there,” he said. “You’ve got my sympathies. I’ve had to drag my buddy home from a bender more’n a few times. He’s an astronaut, see, and he likes to get himself liquored up on space hooch.”

Doktor Zapp didn’t know how space hooch would differ from the regular Earth stuff, but he didn’t care enough to ask. “Thank you,” he said sincerely. “It means a great deal to me that you care. It has been a very long time since anyone cared.”

“That’s right sad there, fella. You should fix that. Make some better friends.” The cowboy sat down on the horse. The horse was Cherry Blossom’s size, and the cowboy was April’s size, and Cherry Blossom was less than half of April’s height. The cowboy’s nether end barely fit on the horse, and he had to stick his legs straight out to either side or they’d drag on the ground. “Me and Sierra need to be moseying along now. You folks take care.”

“NOOO!” Cherry Blossom cried out as the cowboy and the horse started to ride away. “He’s the love of my life! Don’t take him away from me!”

The cowboy’s eyebrows went up. “Uh, ma’am, Sierra here is a mare. Surprised you couldn’t tell.”

“Oh,” Cherry Blossom said, and then wailed, “She’s the love of my life! Don’t take her away from me!”

The horse snorted, and rode off with the cowboy more than twice her size on her back, as Doktor Zapp held Cherry Blossom back by her mane.

“Let’s get you to the van,” he said, pulling at her.

Cherry Blossom burst into tears. “No one wants to fuck me!”

“There, there.” Doktor Zapp was aromantic and asexual, and couldn’t relate to Cherry Blossom’s issue, but long experience had taught him how to pretend. “I know it’s hard. Why don’t you come on back to the van and lay down? You’ll feel better.”

“I feel sick,” Cherry Blossom moaned.

“Well, then why don’t we get you to the van for a nice cup of water.”

“Uggh.” Cherry Blossom proceeded to vomit all over Doktor Zapp’s shoes, making him jump away.

“How!” he shouted. “Horses can’t vomit!”

“I’m a pony! Ugggh…” Cherry Blossom followed her retort with more puking. Doktor Zapp had to remind himself that Ponyland was in another dimension, which made Cherry Blossom more of an alien than an equine.

***

Finally, April had a chance to shop for Christmas ornaments. She favored the kitschy Christmasy Americana of Santas and reindeers and gingerbread men, as well as a lot of colorful glass balls to replace the ones that broke earlier today.

Since they were shopping to replace her ornaments, she was expected to pay for them, so she met up with Sheonte and Catrina as she was getting ready to check out. Sheonte stared in disbelief. “Girl, you really going with that Santa and candy cane kind of crap?”

“What the fuck is wrong with that?” April glared at Sheonte’s cart. “Your shit looks like some kind of ballroom decoration, not Christmas.”

“Yeah, but my stuff is Christmasy without being ugly, meow,” Catrina retorted. “Sheonte’s ornaments may look boring and corporate but yours are just stupid as fuck.”

“Excuse the fuck out of me for wanting a Christmas feel for my Christmas decorations! All you got might as well be an entire strip club’s worth of glitter!”

“You take that back, mraow!”

“My decorations are tasteful, but I can see you bitches don’t know the meaning of the word,” Sheonte snapped. “Corporate? April’s ornaments are fucking corporate. ‘Let’s put up ugly ornaments with candy canes on them to appeal to the soccer mom demographic!’”

“I can see you’ve never been in a corporate boardroom,” April snarked.

“I’ve never been in a boring-ass one full of old white guys, if that’s what you mean,” Sheonte said. “We Divazz had a boardroom. It was cool. It had soda, and wine coolers.”

“Well, it doesn’t fucking matter because it’s my house and my tree, and I say your ornaments are shitty and I’m not buying them.”

“The fuck you’re not,” Catrina said. “You said we could get whatever we wanted, mraow!”

“Yeah, well, maybe I didn’t mean it when I said it.”

“Whatever, bitch. I’m rich enough to buy my own goddamn ornaments,” Sheonte said.

“I’m not putting them on my tree.”

“Yes, you are,” Sheonte said. “Or Catrina and I are moving out. Right, Catrina?”

“Uh…”

“Because you can’t make the mortgage on the Dream House if two of us aren’t renting anymore, right?”

“I can find another couple of renters like that,” April said, snapping her fingers.

“Yeah, no, you can’t. Have you seen your ratings on Yelp?”

“Go Google yourself, meow,” Catrina said. “If the first hit isn’t ‘April is a bitch,’ I’ll eat this ornament.” She held up one of the sparkly balls in her cart. “Anyway, if you don’t wanna put them on your tree, mrew, I’ll get my own damn tree.”

“Ooh. Yeah. I could have an amazing tree for myself and you could just put your tacky junk all over your tree and it could look like shit,” Sheonte said.

Behind them all, they heard Lovey say, “But wouldn’t it be kind of weird if everyone in the house had their own tree?”

April turned. Lovey was there, and behind her, making her way over to the group, was Kerry Kitty, with Emily Egg sitting by herself outside the general area of the Christmas store. Lovey continued. “I think that would be weird, don’t you think? Shouldn’t we all be able to enjoy the big Christmas tree in the middle of the living room?”

“It’s my goddamn tree,” April snapped.

“But we’re all sharing the living room as part of our common space, right? Don’t you think it would be weird if we all had to have different trees?”

“No, nobody but you thinks so, and no one cares what you think.”

“I don’t care if it’s weird,” Sheonte said. “As long as April’s gonna be a bitch about her tree—”

“We need to go home,” Kelly interrupted. “Emily needs her nap.”

“Who cares?” April threw her hands up in the air.

“You will, when the giant baby throws a tantrum and everyone looks at you thinking you’re her mother,” Kerry snapped.

“I can’t leave until I’ve gotten myself a tree, mraow,” Catrina said.

“Yeah, maybe you can take Emily home but as long as April’s being a bitch, I gotta get myself a tree,” Sheonte said.

Kelly took a deep breath. “All of you are idiots,” she said. “No one can get Emily home without April’s van, she is very tired and on the verge of having a meltdown if she doesn’t get a nap, and you three stupid bitches are arguing about ornaments.” Her huge kitty face got into each of the taller dolls’ faces in turn. “You are going to buy all the ornaments you want. You are not going to get extra trees. I will make your ornaments work together without clashing. You are going to shut the fuck up and buy the ornaments in your cart and then April-san will drive all of us home, do you understand?”

Everyone stared at the normally perpetually cheerful and polite Japanese idol as if her face had just sprouted tentacles like a Cthulhoid monster. Catrina and Sheonte took delicate, discreet steps backward.

April did not. “Yeah, what if I—”

Kerry was about Emily Egg’s height, but considerably wider than any of the fashion dolls. She set her feet like a sumo wrestler and shoved April up against a rack of ornaments, her giant head looming imposingly against April’s neck. “Do you understand?” she repeated.

April paled. “Okay, fine! Whatever the fuck!”

Kelly stepped back and beamed. “Very good, April-san. Let’s go home!”

***

Since Cherry Blossom was sleeping it off in the back of the van, and Doktor Zapp was watching her to make sure she didn’t vomit again, April was able to drive off as soon as she and the others were all in the van.

Back at April’s place, there were mugs of hot chocolate for everyone except Lovey, since dogs couldn’t have chocolate; she had a festively striped bone that resembled a candy cane instead. When April pointed out that cats also could not have chocolate, Kerry had smiled a very broad smile and said, “Bite me, April-san.” And then downed half her mug at once. There was no explanation where the mugs of hot chocolate came from; this was just the sort of thing that happened when you were a doll superstar.

Kelly organized the tree ruthlessly, calling on Lovey and Emily to place the “owwmens” in the places she specified. Doktor Zapp was forcibly recruited to assist; he was smaller than Kerry, Lovey or Emily, but he had a levitation belt and fully dexterous hands. Kelly might have opposable thumbs, but her paws themselves were a bit large for interacting with the more delicate ornaments. Emily babbled happily and Lovey barked and frolicked with excitement, like Christmas tree decorating under Kerry’s command was the best thing ever.

April didn’t know whether she was more irritated that she was being left out of the whole tree-decoration process when it was her damn tree, or that Kelly was actually making the wildly clashing types of ornaments work together. She retreated to the roof with a bottle of wine. Catrina and Sheonte joined her.

“All this Christmas bullshit,” Sheonte said.

“Yeah.” April took a swig directly from the bottle, and then handed it to Sheonte, her eyes a challenge. Was Sheonte going to be all prissy and refuse to take a drink because April’s lips had touched the bottle?

The answer was no. Sheonte slugged down what was probably more than one swig. “Catrina?”

“Why the hell not,” Catrina said, and took the bottle. “Mrow.”

As she put it down, she said, “Last Christmas I was at Batrice’s mansion with Lulu and Foxy and Raven. We put purple and blue lights all over the outside of the house, mreow. Then we had steak, nice and bloody, and we decorated the tree. We had poinsettias, and lilies, and colored balls, and Foxy and I chased them around before we put them on the tree.”

“Sounds fantastic,” April said sarcastically.

“It was. It was great. I had real friends.”

“Real friends,” Cherry Blossom said, pushing open the door to the roof. “I had real friends too.”

“Thought you were sleeping off your drunk,” April said.

“I did that. Now I have the biggest headache. Pass the bottle?”

“Thought you only ate apples,” Sheonte said.

“Naah, I can get drunk the human way too.” Cherry Blossom was plainly still somewhat drunk, but four legs, even unsteady ones, were better at staying upright than two legs. She made her way over to the other three and sat down next to Catrina, who passed her the bottle.

“If you had such good friends, why aren’t you with them now?” April asked Catrina. “You try to kill one of them?”

“That would never happen,” Catrina said. “Even if one of them did sleep with my boyfriend – which none of them did, mraow – I would never turn against them.”

“Oh, la-di-da, you’re so much better than us dumb fucks,” Sheonte said. “You so ride or die, why ain’t you hanging with them now?”

“Because I can’t.” Catrina took the bottle back from Cherry Blossom. “We’re monsters. Shapeshifters. Were-girls, right? I’m a cat, Lulu’s a wolf, Raven’s kinda obvious…”

“So?” April reached for the bottle, bypassing Sheonte’s turn.

“So, villagers with pitchforks. Basically. Meow. We had to split up, the cops kept hassling us and there were lawsuits, and we decided it was best to leave Batrice’s mansion, except for Batrice of course. We’re trying to find a place all of us can live, but rents are so high around here, mraow.”

“That’s so sad,” Cherry Blossom said. “No one should be getting in the way of true friendship.” She reached for the bottle, but Sheonte, who’d finally gotten it, didn’t pass it back.

“This shit’s weaksauce, April. You got anything better?”

April opened her large handbag and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. “I got this.”

“Shiiiit. Yeah, gimme some’a that.”

Sheonte passed the bottle of wine to Cherry Blossom to finish as she opened the whiskey. Cherry Blossom said, “I miss my friends. I miss Ponyland. You people aren’t even my species, and I have to perform in your movies, and do pony rides, and you know what? At home I wasn’t even an actress! I wasn’t even a performer! I ran a grocery store! I sold fruit!”

“Didn’t you say you used to save the world?”

“Yeah, me and my friends used to use the magic of friendship to defeat monsters and evil sorcerors and stuff.”

“How’s a grocery store manager get a position like that?”

Cherry shrugged. “A new mare comes to your hometown with a prophecy, you know how it is.” She threw the now-empty wine bottle off the roof. “Why haven’t they come for me? I thought we were best friends. I thought we’d do anything for each other. Why haven’t they found me yet?”

Sheonte passed the whiskey to April. “Last Christmas we all got together at Yana’s house and we stood around the tree and we strung tinsel garlands all around it. Handing off to each other. The guys were helping with the stuff at the top, it was a tall tree. We had white and gold ribbons tied in bows, and pretty white doves and shit. Had Coke and rum, and Shannon made a cake…”

“Oh, wow, you people used to have such awesome Christmases.”

Sheonte glared at April. “We did. Because we had friends. I thought I had friends, anyway. I didn’t know Viv was gonna end up fucking my boyfriend and then all of them were gonna take her side.”

“I thought I had friends, too,” Cherry Blossom said, taking her turn with the whiskey. “Last Festival of Friendship, we decorated the whole town. Featherfall was getting all the birds to help out with putting snow garlands on everything… Spark had magicked the snow so it would stick together in a garland…” She began to sob. “I’ll never see them again, will I? Maybe they can’t get here! Maybe they can’t find me, and I’ll have to live here forever and ever…”

Catrina sniffled. “Meow. I wanna get back with my friends so bad. I can’t believe I gotta spend Christmas with you bitches instead of my real friends, mraow.”

“I wanna forgive them,” Sheonte said, beginning to cry. “I wanna forgive them so bad, I want everything to be like it was before, but how can I? How can it? I want to go back to the Divazz… I want Jax…”

April, dry-and-stony-eyed, stared off into the distance as around her, her tenants all broke down crying over the Christmases they couldn’t have with friends that weren’t here. All the friends she’d ever had who’d left her had done it because she was a bitch to them, and she knew it. Sheonte could fantasize about going back to the Divazz and Catrina to the Weargirls and Cherry Blossom to Ponyland, but April had never had a group of friends like they had had. Just two boyfriends, and family, and a bunch of bitches who’d used her to get ahead just like she’d been using them.

“I fucking hate Christmas,” she said.

#52 Project #april's dream house #december 2020

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revisionaryhistory · 4 years ago

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Three Days ~ 71

~*~Emma~*~

For the rest of the trip, we relaxed listening to music. Before Sebastian had asked, I’d not thought too much about what I was going to do. Further limiting my time was a given, but I hadn’t thought about what that would look like. Talking about not waking up at “home” with my mom, dad, twin sister, and niece should have bothered me more than it did. That it didn’t, tells me it’s the right decision. One of the side effects of putting up with shit too long is once you decide to stop it’s not that big of a deal. Something inside has been moving in that direction for some time. What Sebastian had said about not sacrificing myself was on target. That I would do what it takes to take care of my sister isn’t in question. It’s been proven.

I texted Angie from the Uber to Sebastian's apartment. We were going to start up at Chelsea and Union Square with Aritzia, Anthropologie, and Free People. Those were sure thing stores, but not always original. We'd weave our way through Chelsea and into Soho. That shop Seb and I found would be last. We'd stop for lunch when we got hungry.

Angie hopped on the subway and headed to Union Square. It would take her thirty minutes and me fifteen from Sebastian’s place. Plenty of time to relax and watch Sebastian gather what he needed to work on. I saw a script, notebook, and a couple of real books. I think I'd find it fascinating to watch his process, but more importantly this time I wanted him to know I had friends and could amuse myself. I didn't care that he needed work time and I wasn’t going to need something from him for ignoring me. Doing things independent of your partner was important.

I grabbed a bottle of water for my journey and made my way to where Sebastian sat. He moved the items in his lap, making room for me to sit down. He supported my back and rubbed along my leg. "What are you shopping for?"

"Whatever I find." I smiled sneakily, "Especially if find something for Paris, our first date, and our live music fun tonight."

Sebastian’s hand made it to my ass, "When I think of live music I picture short, revealing, sexy."

"I love how you think." I ran my fingers through his hair. "Can I bother you for five minutes?"

"Sure" His eyes held questions.

I pulled his head closer, pressing my lips to his until he caught on and joined in the fun.

Our little mini make out session was going to make me late. Assuming Angie left as soon as we texted, walked straight onto a train, and there were no delays. None of these were likely. She'd forgive my lateness anyway. I looped my crossbody bag over my head, "I'll text if it's anything other than seven."

"Ok." He ran toward the kitchen. "Hang on." I heard a drawer slam before he reversed direction and came back. Sebastian held up a key, the slightest smile appearing on his face, "In case I'm in the shower or something when you come back. You remember the code?"

"Yes." I'd punched it in when we got here less than half an hour ago. He was nervous. I admit I had to focus to keep my hand steady as I took his offering. "I love you."

Sebastian opened the door and gave me a quick kiss as I walked out. "Love you, too."

I was a couple of steps away when I heard my name.

"Emma, put it on your key ring so you don't lose it."

The door closed before I could reply. I guess that eliminates any question if the key was a temporary just in case he was in the shower today sort of thing. What made me smile the most was the lack of conversation. If he'd overthought the decision, he didn't feel the need to talk it through. No discussion about what it meant or didn't mean. He may have been nervous, but he wasn't uncomfortable. I seriously doubt he's in the habit of giving out keys to his place, so nervous but not uncomfortable was good.

Angie was leaning against the building when I walked up. We hugged like we hadn't seen each other in months. "Sorry, I’m late."

"Were you having sex? I'll forgive you if you were having sex."

I grimaced with a shake of my head, "Making out."

My best friend huffed out a breath, "Close enough." She held the door open for me, "I got here like two minutes ago."

Aritzia, Anthropologie, and Free People were right in a line. We'd hit them in my favorite order. Aritizia was more comfort clothes for me. Their clothes were more staples than fun. But today I found a gorgeous Sicily sweater and cardigan in a soft heathered cashmere. A pair of tie front pants in purple plaid would look awesome for wandering museums. Anthropologie gifted me with a sequined tunic dress for a night out. A simple black midi dress, a grey-blue fringed and a textured cardi, and a long black wrap jacket. Free People had a colorful mini dress, a definite statement Hyacinth dress, and a fun floral dress. Assorted other things went into my bags too. I went a little crazy, but in my defense, I hadn’t been shopping in a long time and my best friend was egging me on. Plus, there was someone to appreciate what I wore. I had all sorts of cute clothes, but dressing for a boyfriend was different. Especially one who liked to look. I knew what he liked and indulged.

Conversation while we shopped was mostly about the shopping. It's good to have a friend who'll not only tell you something makes your ass look fat but also say, "You look amazing but where the fuck are you gonna wear that more than once?" Part of the fun was trying on horrifying things. Those things you don't understand how they were ever made. We'd mix those in with good stuff and laugh until we cried. We had a long-standing tradition that whoever found the most "exquisite" outfit was treated to lunch. We were pretty even and had pictures for documentation. Today I would be buying lunch.

"We’ve got a table at two. Alissa's going to meet us."

"That'll be fun. Are she and Will coming tonight?"

"I don't think so. They've got a family thing."

I nodded and we headed toward Chelsea, stopping at the Guitar Store for strings and a capo. We had plenty of time so we stopped anywhere else that caught our eyes. Walking was more private and so was our conversation.

"Anything I should know about before I see you tonight with your boyfriend?"

I sighed in relief. Finally. I bumped her hip with mine, "I love him."

Angie put her arm around me, "This is not news, Emma."

We shared a laugh. "I wasn't sure until I was in the cab leaving his place. Georgia solidified it. Sebastian was so good talking me through all their shit. He and Eli have more in common now. They both hate my parents."

"Eli doesn't hate your parents."

I pulled away, looking at her with raised eyebrows and clear disbelief written on my face. "Try again."

Angie spoke through our laughter, "Eli tries not to, but they make it truly hard. I think he'd be more forgiving if you didn't have us and your Seattle family. Eli loves you like a little sister, best friend, and some weird second wife he's never fucked. He’s protective. He and Sebastian are going to have to figure out how to share."

"They'll arm wrestle or something. Then maybe you'll become Sebastian’s little sister, friend, and second girlfriend. Ooo, we could use you to confuse the fans. If we're out and get seen we can trade off and kiss each other’s dates. Set up a different narrative."

"Good idea.

“It'll be more fun for you. I have kissed Eli, but you don't know about Seb."

"I doubt anything will become so severe that making out with Sebastian is the answer." She smiled, "Not that I would mind."

"You would not mind. He's one hell of a good kisser."

She backtracked, "Who said it first? How did it happen."

"He surprised me showing up early from Canada, watched me cleaning up my classroom for a minute, then told me the song I was dancing along to was about sex. I turned around and he had on those ears. He looked so adorable. He looked at me with his mouth and eyes open wide and said, “Fuck, I love you."

Angie slapped her hand on her chest, "He didn't know until right them." She gasped, "He came in wearing those ears to be cute and winds up telling you he loves you. He is adorable.” She glared at me, "And you said it back."

I nodded, “In Romania."

"What's up with learning Romanian?"

I trusted her with everything. "It's his name. He prefers it in Romanian. I've been learning just enough to add it to his name. It has a very nice effect on him.” I remembered the wall and shook myself out of the memory. “Plus it makes him happy.”

"And you’re happy?"

I nodded, "Incredibly. All the reasons we talked about are still going on. He adores me and it's clear by how he treats me. And I love taking care of him." I knew she’d understand what I meant.

"There is nothing better in the world. I'm so happy you have someone. It had been so long I thought you were intentionally keeping everyone away."

“Just waiting for the right one." I pulled out my key chain. "I do have a new key."

Angie snatched it, "He keyed you!"

"Looks like it."

"Do you worry this is going fast? I mean it is going fast."

"Yes. It is going fast. There is a risk that maybe this time next year we could be married, have three kids, and signing our divorce papers." I barely made it through without laughing.

Angie snorted, "Sign a prenup so you don’t have to pay alimony when his mid-life crisis tanks his career."

"I talked to Trevor about Sebastian. He knows about my parents, Amy, rehab, and how shitty they can be to me, but he doesn't how about what happened." I stopped walking and looked at her. "I'm starting to feel ashamed for not telling him. That's never happened before." Relationship or friendship. It had never happened. I looked at the most recent member of my secret club. "I don't want to."

She understood, "Why?"

"I don't want him to change the way he looks at me."

Angie smiled, "He won't. You don’t know that yet. It's only been a month. When you know, you'll tell him, and he will look at you just the same or better than he does now. It'll be fine."

"How do you know?" It wasn’t a smart assed clap back. I sincerely wanted to know her reasoning.

"Because he feels different to you and about you. You’re both sharing things neither of you share. That’s the glue for your relationship. You’re adding a little more glue, letting it set up, then adding more. It's getting stronger and eventually, you'll both tell the big secrets and it will be like a layer of epoxy around you that will make you near impossible to break.”

"I like that."

"I speak the truth."

We beat Alissa to the restaurant and ordered a pitcher of margaritas. I was still rearranging and shoving bags into bags under the table when she got there. Angie jumped up and they hugged. I took a step closer, but instead of hugging me, Alissa looked at me warily. “Is it ok for me to be here? Angie said it would be.”

I looked at Angie then back to Alissa, “Why wouldn’t it be?” Oh, what the fuck was going on? I just wanted a nice drunken late lunch with friends after a successful shopping expedition then go home and make out some more with my hot boyfriend.

Alissa grimaced, “I’m sorry for saying all that about Sebastian.”

“Oh!” I laughed and put my hand on my chest. Relieved. I pulled her into a hug, “I’m not upset. Between you and Kirk and the shit Eli told him, we had a somewhat uncomfortable, but really good conversation.”

“Good.” We sat down and Alissa kept talking. “I didn’t mean to be negative. It was just strange. How he was acting and the things you were saying. In a good way. It didn’t come out that way.”

Why is she still . . . oh. “Sebastian said something.”

She cringed, “More of a small group WhatsApp with me and Kirk.”

I laughed again. “Sounds fun.” I sort of wish he hadn’t done that, but I understand why he did. In the end, it was a good thing, but they couldn’t know if I would be scared off by their words.

Angie jumped in, “There’s no way Emma didn’t talk that through.”

Alissa didn’t know me well enough yet to know I wouldn’t let the conversation fester. “Especially with us being a thousand miles apart for the next two weeks. Why is that distance makes time seem longer?”

“I don’t know, but it does. Seb was right to be angry. We could have screwed things up. Neither of us realized how important you were to him. He was worried. That’s more like Seb. Kinda. He’s confusing.”

I think I know what she’s going for. It’s very like him to be worried, but not so much calling out a friend about a girlfriend. From what we’ve talked about and what I learned on that post he’s not had a history of defending girlfriends. I could be wrong, but I don’t think so. I wasn’t willing to go into that here. I changed the subject. “And then he goes and tells Will to post a picture of us.”

Alissa nodded, “How’d he react to the comment saying he was going to propose?”

Angie started laughing, “She’d say no.”

“I told him not to. He’d need a good reason. Like he’s actually not a citizen and needs a marriage green card. Or maybe health insurance. I have good health insurance.”

That was the end of that and we went on to other topics. Alissa and Will were having dinner with family but would come by Bowery Ballroom if they were done early. Keaton and Eli’s bands were friends and often teamed up to fill a bigger hall and split the money. They usually made more that way than in one of the smaller halls. Both did a full set and even though Keaton was the bigger name they would trade off who opened. Tonight was Eli’s turn.

We split up outside the restaurant. Alissa going back home and Angie and I heading to the boutique by Sebastian’s. It wasn’t a horrible walk, but we had a lot of bags. In the cab, Angie gave me a look. One I could read perfectly. She wanted to know what I’d avoided at lunch. I like Alissa and I’d say we’re friends. She’s also married to one of Sebastian’s best friends. I didn’t know what the line was. Not for Sebastian. He’d tell me to do what I wanted. The line was mine. Will and Alissa were still enough strangers to me that I wasn’t comfortable with too much information flow between all of us. I wouldn’t think anything of it with Angie and Eli and I was confident that given some more time it would be the same with Will and Alissa. Also, I didn’t know how intimate of conversations Sebastian had with his friends. I’d need to be around more to know.

I’d told Angie about our conversation after the party. In general. With what Alissa had said I went into a little more detail, filled in holes, and answered questions. I watched her thinking. I knew what was coming and was glad for it. “Are you worried? I’d be worried. Maybe not worried. Concerned. It’s like being a rebound. You’re the first after something else, only the something else is personal growth. You don’t know if he’s going to go back. You know what I mean?”

I did. “If he wasn’t so forthcoming with talking about it, I would be concerned. He’s laid it all out there. What he’s done, not done, feels bad about. He doesn’t act like that with me. If he starts too, I’ll know what's going on.” I told her about the conversation on the deck where he did want to shut down and how we got through it. “Struggling with change doesn’t bother me. All the girlfriend stuff.” I shook my head and shrugged. “We’re going to have to figure out what both of us are good with. I think I’m going to be able to not get sucked into comments or let them get to me, but I don’t know for sure. I know private is ok, but I’m not ok with being denied. I’d feel like a dirty little secret. I could change my mind. Could be next week. No idea.”

Angie took my hand, “I still get hate from Eli’s fans. We had to figure out how to deal. You guys will too. The rest, I think you’re right. If he’d gotten pissy and refused to talk about what Alissa and Kirk had said it would be a problem. Everybody gets a chance to do things differently. I don’t for one second think you’re going in blind or overlooking things because you want a boyfriend. You’d walk away if he wasn’t treating you right.” She got the look she gets when she’s about to tell me something I don’t like. I know that look, because I have the same one. “I’m one hundred percent not saying now. Way too soon. You’re already started to feel ashamed and that’s not going to get better. Might not get worse, but it’s not going to get better. You are the bravest person I know. Don’t let being afraid of your past ruin your future.”

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #fanfiction #sebastian stan X ofc #marvel actor fanfiction

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spidercakes · 5 years ago

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Have some mob boss!Tony and kept!Peter!

Warnings: mentions of abuse.

Peter shivers, upset and hurt but Tony has a hand on his shoulder like he’s trying to steady him. “Are you okay?” Tony asks and Peter knows this won’t come without a price but he’s ready to pay it, even when he knows he’ll regret it. He shakes his head slowly and Tony sighs softly, “oh course you aren’t. Come on, lets sit you down,” he says like he isn’t working through a list of his own plans with Peter but it has to be better than what he left. Maybe. Probably not, but Peter needs a plan and if Bucky has taught him anything its that abusers don’t abuse right away. Tony will play nice for awhile, he can plan then.

So he follows Tony, allows him to put him into a car while he takes deep breaths. “What do you want for this?” he asks after a few long minutes.

Tony is sitting beside him, watching him pensively. He stays like that for a moment after Peter speaks, considering. He reaches out and tilts Peter’s chin up a bit, “nothing much baby, just loyalty. Think you can do that?” he asks.

Peter nods like he has a choice, arms curling around himself tightly. “I didn’t think you’d do that out of the goodness of your heart,” he murmurs.

“Well, you’re not wrong in assuming I’m a bad man. But I do draw the line at domestic violence,” Tony tells him.

Yeah, like Peter is stupid enough to believe that. “But murder isn’t something you have qualms with?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Tony shrugs, “nature of my business.”

He waits for the other shoe to drop, Peter knows its going to happen because Tony is nice, too nice. He somehow found all of Peter’s stuff and brought it to him, the room he’s staying in is huge, and Tony never pushes anything. He barely even talks to Peter most days, invites him to dinner others and expects nothing. He doesn’t bar Peter from leaving but he’s not fucking stupid, the cops think he killed Bucky and they aren’t totally wrong about that either. Its because of him, he’s sure, that Tony decided to get involved and now Bucky’s dead not that Peter can bring himself to feel bad about it.

Still, its not smart to leave the house right now so he doesn’t. Tony doesn’t contradict that unless there’s an off chance that he wants to take Peter out himself, then he’ll go. The price was loyalty and Peter can do that for now, when Tony doesn’t expect much so he does what little Tony asks and that’s when the gifts start.

He’s not stupid, Bucky was nice at first too, showered him with love and attention, told him all about his life. Tried to endear himself to Peter too quickly, he knows, and played too hard at being perfect to actually be perfect. Hindsight taught him a lot but at the time he’d been young, hadn’t really dated much. He didn’t know what he was getting into and that was probably a draw too. Easier to manipulate younger people than older- the younger ones haven’t been through it enough to know the red flags. Peter was easy prey but he’s not so stupid now, he knows Tony is playing some type of game he just needs to figure it out.

The shoes are nice though, red and gold heels that he actually really likes and if it weren’t for the situation he’d be grateful. But for now he’s sure its some type of trap.

Peter was a fucking tough one to crack, took months to get him to let his guard down enough to get him to laugh but Tony thinks its worth it, so worth it. By then he’d started to wear the things Tony gifted him, maybe out of necessity seems how a lot of his clothes were a little worse for wear. Still, it’d been a small victory to see Peter laugh for just a moment before he seemed to realize what he’d done and then the laughter falls away.

It takes longer for Peter to come to him about anything but when he does its to ask permission to spend some time with a friend. Tony doesn’t much care, he already knows Peter will come back, its not like he has anywhere else to go and Tony paid for the lawyer that got him out of the hot water Tony accidentally stuck him in. Peter had asked what he wanted for that but it was Tony’s fault Peter was a suspect in his ex’s murder anyway so its not like he expected anything out of that. It’d been the least that he could do, clean up his own mess for Peter’s sake. But Peter goes to the movie, comes back and seems a little lighter. He asks for permission to hang out with the same friend the next day too and Tony tells him to stop asking for permission, he’s not a damn prisoner he can do whatever he wants.

Peter takes him up on it too, and he wonders if maybe Peter will go if he knows he has the option to. Tony wouldn’t chase after him anyway, Bucky isn’t the first person he’s killed and they both know he did Peter a favor. Peter didn’t mourn for his death even if he was clearly distraught about it happening in front of him. He doubts Peter will tell anyone about that all things considered.

He always comes back though, and every time he leaves he comes back a little more confident, a little more himself as Tony has come to know him. Slowly he starts to let himself relax and that includes around Tony.

“Why are you so nice to me?” Peter asks Tony. They’re at a party neither of them want to be at, which is kind of part of the fun, but the question is strategic. Tony won't do much in public, they never do. Won’t stop anything from happening at home but it does mean Peter is free to ask what he wants right now with minimal repercussions in the moment.

Tony frowns at him, “because you’re a person?” he asks more than states, like Peter’s question confuses him.

He shakes his head though. “You’re not nice to most people,” Peter says. Exceptions are his sister but then anyone would be nice to her with the vibe she gives off. If Peter thought Tony was the dangerous one of the family it’d been because he hadn’t met Natasha yet. He doesn’t know what she’s gotten into but he knows that she’s a hell of a lot worse than Tony ever could be. Other than that he’s nice to his driver, Pepper, and Rhodey. He’s polite to most other people, if barely, but anyone else? He goes from irritated to out and out cruel in seconds and he has no guilt about it either. “So why are you nice to me?” Peter asks him again.

Tony sighs, “because you’ve been through enough,” he says evasively like he actually thinks that matters. Everyone Tony talks to has a history, someone they’ve lost along the way because that’s what happens when you tangle with mafias for too long. He’d think there’s a target on his back but he’s learned that people don’t like to mess with Tony too much. Out of all the other mafias hanging around it seems Tony sits at the top of the heap at least in this part of the world. Peter has had a handful of incidences and every one of those people have turned up dead and in some rather unpleasant ways. People tend to avoid him now, or treat him with a level of respect he doesn’t understand. Sometimes its from people he doesn’t even know.

“That’s not the real reason,” Peter says, pressing his luck he knows but he wants to know why Tony is nice to him. No, needs to know.

For a few long, uncomfortable seconds he thinks Tony will avoid the question again or worse but he doesn’t. “Because you’re beautiful, Peter, and smart, and sweet, and a half a dozen other things that I love about you. And because you deserve better than what you’ve been handed.” Tony walks away after that, leaving Peter to sit with the weird confession. He makes his way to the bar and sits because his feet are sore anyway. He loves those red and gold heels but they’re a pain in the ass to stand in for an extended period of time.

He feels like he’s learned nothing from Tony’s answer and a lot all at once but he choses to leave it alone for awhile. He knows he’s not going to leave Tony’s place, he’s grown used to the meals and the space and he likes it there. Ned is worried about him, so are MJ and Liz, but its been more than long enough for Tony to have gotten comfortable with his presence there. He has yet to try anything and Peter has learned his distaste for domestic violence extends far beyond Peter. He has no patience for it, sometimes even kills them about it but he never takes in anyone like he had Peter.

On the way home Peter sits beside Tony and settles a hand on his thigh. Tony carefully wraps his arm around Peter’ gives him time to pull away but he doesn’t. They stay like that all the way home and its nice, comforting. Peter wants to let himself get used to this but he doesn’t know if he should. Tony isn’t a good man and Peter isn’t sure he’ll always be good to him, good for him.

“You don’t owe me anything,” Tony murmurs as they arrive on the estate. Peter looks up at him and Tony looks dead serious. “You can go, do whatever you want, never speak to me again if that’s what you want. You don’t need to do this.”

Peter knows he’s telling the truth, he can feel it. “I know,” Peter tells him. “I’m here because I want to be.” He doesn’t know its true until he says it but he can feel how much he means it.

Tony doesn’t know how the fuck he got so lucky but he’ll take it. He sure shit doesn’t deserve Peter but he can’t bring himself to tell Peter that he deserves better than him, not when he’s curled up in that pretty red dress Tony got him, red and gold heels still on his feet because he’d been too tired to take them off when he came to bed. He’s selfish for keeping Peter to himself but he loves him, has almost since they met. It’d been a feeling then, the kind that he gets every once and awhile that lets him know that he should pursue something.

Now he sees what he’d felt then because Peter is perfect for him. He’s smart, and caring, and he doesn’t shy away from Tony’s dark side maybe because he’d encountered worse. And he’s beautiful with his brown curls, pretty brown eyes and bright smile. Tony never gets sick of seeing him smile or laugh, those reactions were hard fucking won and he’ll be damned if he ever breaks that trust. He doesn’t ever want Peter to suffer the way he had ever again and he will ensure he doesn’t. People learned very fast that Peter isn’t to be trifled with. Usually its Natasha people fear more than him, rightfully so given that she’s fucking nuts and in a cold, calculated way that makes her dangerous rather than unhinged, but mess with Peter and she becomes the preferable option.

Even she’d been surprised by that given that she’s always thought his distaste for murder was irritating at best, cowardly at worst. But Tony doesn’t like the cleanup, takes too much work so if he can avoid it he does. Not with Peter on the line though, he’ll do whatever it is he needs to for Peter to be safe, happy, and healthy. And so far its working well enough that people actively avoid targeting Peter and they’d do well to keep that up.

When Peter stirs Tony feels his stomach flutter. He’ll never get used to being with someone as amazing as Peter but he’ll at least do his best to deserve being with him even if he’s bound to fail. Peter blinks himself awake, looking up at Tony and smiling. “Hey, baby,” he murmurs, stretching out and wrinkling his nose when he realizes he’s still in his heels. He makes a disgruntled noise so Tony shifts his position, moving down the bed and carefully grabbing hold of Peter’s ankle so he can take off his shoes.

“Happy anniversary,” Tony says, smiling a little as he pulls off Peter’s heels.

Peter grins, smile bright. “You remembered!” he says, excited. As if Tony would ever forget something so important.

“Of course I did. Come here,” he says, pulling himself out of bed before he leans over and scoops Peter up in his arms, carrying him to the bathroom.

“You put rose petals in the bath tub!” Peter says, grinning down at the full bath. He’d just been waiting for Peter to get up so he could take Peter to it.

“You said you always wanted to take a bath with rose petals,” Tony says. The way Peter beams is so worth the trouble of plucking the petals off of all those roses. Took forever because he didn’t want to ruin any of the petals, it needed to be perfect for Peter.

“I love you,” Peter tells him, radiating happiness and this is just the beginning. Tony has a whole day planned for them comprised entirely of things Peter has said he’s always wanted to do.

“I love you too, baby,” Tony tells him, setting him down by the tub. “Now, not that I didn’t get you anything for our anniversary, but if you could have anything at all, what would you want?” he asks.

Peter smiles, “I have everything I want and then some, thanks to you.”

“Baby,” Tony says, raising an eyebrow.

Peter huffs. “Fine, I’ve always wanted to go to Greece,” he says and done.

“I’ll book us a ticket,” Tony tells him. “Now, get in the tub. We’ve got plans today.”

#tony stark x peter parker #starker #alternate universe #fanfiction

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bngtanah · 4 years ago

Text

The Difference Between Boys & Girls | o8

summary: Sam & Erin are university students who share a cheap one bedroom apartment above a shitty takeaway restaurant. Due to the limited space, they’ve grown accustomed to sharing just about everything, including the occasional kiss.

pairing: Jung Hoseok (Samuel Park) feat. Park Jimin (Brian Yi) x Named OC characters: meet the cast.

genre: angst, smut, fluff word count: 8k chapters: o1| o2| o3| o4| o5| o6| o7| o8| o9| 10| 11| 12| 13| 14 warning: boyfriend!hoseok, jealous!hoseok, painter!jimin, friends to lovers trope, college au, angst, sexual themes, slow burn, arguing, pining, kissing, light groping.

a/n: i am once again asking for your opinions lmao. just so i know if i should continue to put effort into uploading these chapters...

Nearly a week had passed since the blow-up and Brian and Erin still hadn't hadn't spoken face to face. That wasn't due to a lack of trying, however, especially on Brian's part; he called incessantly, texted her whenever his phone was in his hands and even found the time to email a five-page apology explaining his actions. Everything short of showing up at her apartment which he would have done in a heartbeat if he wasn't so unsure about Erin wanting to see him since she barely picked up his calls or replied to his messages. Her excuse was that she was busy with things and not deliberately ignoring him since she was hardly as angry as she was last week but Brian could tell that she was only telling him a small part of the reason why she was making herself so scarce.

He had reason to be skeptical but Erin truly had been busy these past few days, her classes may have been on hold for the winter but she still had a job to hold down and extra hours to pick up since she wanted to earn as much as she could during her last winter break from school. Most of her time, though, had been being put into avoiding Sammy who up until last month she would have dropped any and everything to spend time with. Erin assumed life would continue on as normal after their discussion about her fight with Brian and Sammy confirming that she was nothing but a sister to him and basically crushing any and all hopes she had of him taking her against one of the walls of their apartment to small, tiny pieces. Her assumptions couldn't have been any further from the truth, life between Sammy and Erin somehow managed to become awkward and tense in the wake of their non-confession.

Mornings that often consisted of them sharing the duties of making breakfast and light-hearted conversations became nearly silent and filled with boring small talk to fill the dead air until someone could think of an excuse to leave the apartment. In the afternoons when they shared the TV in the living room they took up opposite ends of the couch instead of snuggling closely together and the one time they both accidentally reached for the remote at the same time Sammy flinched back so hard Erin thought he would flip out of his seat. Everything was becoming so confusing to her and the entire situation reeked of deja-vu because Erin was certain they'd gone through and gotten over this exact phase of awkwardness in their teen years. The tension and awkward energy that Erin hated all those years ago settled between them again, and this time, it returned with a vengeance that threatened to only get worse f they continued to ignore the elephant in the room like they were currently doing.

Erin's dazed expression softened when the soft chirp of her cell phone made her pay attention to the world around her again instead of falling further into her own thoughts. She smiled brightly when she read that the message she'd received was from Kasey and not Brian, she really did want to talk to him but there was only so much poetic text messages and elaborately worded apologies she could handle before it started to get annoying. That and she wasn't exactly sure what she wanted to say to him yet. Erin's fingers were working over her digital keyboard so diligently she hardly noticed when Sammy silently sauntered into the kitchen until he opened the fridge and her head snapped up.

"Oh! You startled me."

"Sorry, E" Samuel turned around to respond before immediately putting his head back into the refrigerator when Erin smiled and shook her head.

"That's alright....." She said timidly, "You must have been cold last night, the heater broke down at like one in the morning." Sammy grunted to show that he agreed as he began gathering eggs and other various ingredients.

"I expected to wake up with you next to me this morning," Erin commented with a stilted chuckle.

She actually waited up for him to join her when she felt the shift in temperature but to her surprise the door never so much as cracked open.

"Oh...well I just used the electronic blanket. It kept me warm enough."

"Cool...cool." Erin nodded slowly, "We could have shared if you want, I know I give you shit about it sometimes but I really don't mind sharing the bed with you."

There was a noticeable pause in both Samuel's response and his movements before he turned around and faced the area where Erin was seated, he was looking down instead of directly at her but it was a start at least.

"I...don't think we should be doing stuff like that anymore. I mean I know there's nothing behind it but you've got a boyfriend now and he's already getting the wrong idea about our relationship. It would probably be easier if we just didn't do that kind of stuff."

He didn't wait for Erin to agree or disagree with him before turning back to continue making breakfast for himself as if he hadn't just made a decision that involved both of them without even bothering to ask Erin's opinion. If he had he would have known that Erin had no intentions of changing the dynamics of their relationship just because it may have made her boyfriend uncomfortable. He would have known that her friendship with Sammy was currently more important to her than Brian's feelings, it sounded harsh but it was a fact that Erin had no probably admitting. He would have also known that Erin was never going to stop treating Samuel with the same amount of kindness and affection she'd been showing him since they became friends, and what exactly did he mean by 'stuff like that'? Bed-sharing? Casually snuggling up on the couch together? Touching in general? Showing each other any form of genuine affection? Because these were all things that seemed to stop abruptly from Sammy's end since last week and there was no way Sammy could have thought he was making anything "easier".

"Right...well. I should get going I'm filling in for another assistant today and they'll kill me if I'm late again."

Erin showered, got dressed and left for work without saying another word towards her roommate, apart from a barely audible 'See you' as she slipped out the front door and left him vegetating on the couch. Samuel's little proposition was still irritating her but she didn't have the luxury of allowing him to be her sole focus for the rest of the day since covering for a secretary who worked on a different floor involved completing tasks on a schedule that Erin wasn't used to and dealing with people she never had to speak to before. They weren't used to her and she wasn't used to them so it made an already stressful and annoying day even more stressful and annoying. Erin's one moment of reprieve came in the form of a fruit and cookie basket delivered to her office building from someone who only wanted to be identified as 'a fool who is still sorry'.

She sighed and smiled to herself as she signed for the gift and tried to avoid curious stares of the office ahjummas while she brought it back to her temporary desk. Her lunch break was delayed a few minutes by a copier emergency but once Erin was finally free of her responsibilities she gathered up her gift basket and headed for break room to thank the 'fool' that sent it.

There were a few seconds of static and shuffling before she could hear his voice clearly as if he'd dropped the phone while trying to answer it "Erin is that you?"

She nodded even though he couldn't see her and grinned at the noticeable inflection in his voice when he said her name. "Yeah, it's me."

"It's good to hear your voice. Did you get the gift basket?"

"I did, I'm eating right now so I wanted to call and say thanks. I also wanted to know if you'd be free tonight? Maybe we could meet after I get off from work?"

"My schedule will always free for you, Erin," Brian said and Erin could tell he was smiling despite not being ale to see him. "Should I come by your apartment?"

"No! Your place isn't that far from where I work so I'll just meet you there, is that okay?"

"Of course, it is. Are you eating now?"

"Mhm"

"Okay...uh." Brian stumbled through his sentence and cleared his throat to shake the nerves from his shoulders before he tried to speak up again. "I'm, um, I'm down the street from your building and...."

"And...?"

"...Can I see you?"

There was a slight rasp of desperation in his voice and Erin found herself unable to shut down his request outright. Even though her mind had been preoccupied with the whole Sammy situation Erin had to admit that other parts of her had missed seeing Brian in the week that she had been avoiding him.

"I would really like to see you Brian, but I only have a few minutes left for lunch and I'm really hungry."

Brian's short laugh was dulcet and surrounded Erin in a warm embrace as she sank back into the chair she was seated in and debated whether or not sneaking downstairs for a few moments would be worth the reprimand.

"Okay, if I can't see you then can we talk for the rest of your break?"

Erin hummed a 'yes' with her mouth full grapes.

"How has your day been going so far?"

"Ugh, aggravating. I'm covering for someone works on a different floor and I guess my Korean is getting worse because everyone keeps trying to speak to me in English."

Brian chuckled again, "Your Korean is perfect, maybe they just want to practice English?"

"Well they should pay for a tutor, I don't work for free."

They both shared a laugh and for a short moment the uncertainty between them was forgotten, there was still so much that needed to be said from both of them but for the remainder of their conversation, until Erin was reminded for the second time that she wasn't being paid to sit around, things were comfortable and easy. No dead air that neither party knew how to fill or awkward pauses where Erin had to think about what to say next. It was simple and pleasant and exactly what Erin needed.

Erin managed to hang up and get back to her desk before her temporary supervisor had the chance to sneak up on her again. Her little chat with Brian perked up her attitude and even though her coworkers were still being annoying and halfway mixing English into their requests for no reason, Erin was floating on cloud nine as the hours winded down. The minute the clock passed 6 O'clock she was up and out exiting the building before anyone had the chance to ask her to stay any later. Usually, she would have stopped off at home to change her outfit and see Sammy before heading anywhere else after work but Erin didn't know if she had the stamina to weather another dry conversation with him and she was inexplicably excited to see her boyfriend. Well, boyfriend may have been too heavy of a term for their current status but the ambiguity of their relationship didn't hamper Erin's excitement as she pulled up in the front of Brian's building.

Her excitement was overcome with nervousness when she noticed him pacing back and forth a few feet away from his door. She chuckled and shook her head from side to side, honestly Erin didn't know why she hadn't expected him to be waiting for her on the street. His hair was disheveled and the orange locks that grazed over his forehead were beginning to fade into a deep auburn that seemed to compliment his skin in a much softer way than the sharp orange. Erin thanked the driver and adjusted her skirt and blazer as she exited the taxi, as she looked down at her outfit she slightly wished she had gone home to change into something cuter but it was much too late for that.

Brian's expression lit up when his head swiveled in Erin's direction, much like a lost puppy being reunited with it's family after a long absence. He remained silent, they both did, not saying anything as they both slowly moved toward each other until they were toe to toe and face to face with apprehensive smiles spread across both of their lips.

"Hey you," Erin was the first to speak and twiddle her thumbs together.

"Hi," Brian answered and shoved his hands into his pockets, exhaling a breath he had been holding in since he first saw her step out of the cab.

Erin nodded a few times and pressed her lips together tightly, she had role-played exactly how she wanted this conversation to go on the ride over but being here in the moment made everything she had in mind to say seem totally wrong.

"So, uh. I know I've been kind of distant lately" Erin started off "And I really didn't mean to be, I've just been thinking about a lot of things lately and I needed some time to mull over things by myself."

Brian ducked his head and caught Erin's gaze, making her look up at him while she continued speaking.

"I was really upset by what you said at that moment- and I know that you're sorry about it, you don't have to say it anymore," She interjected when Brian opened his mouth undoubtedly to apologise again. "But once I had some time to think about it I realised that I may have overreacted a little bit. Sammy and I are very close and we have been for so long I guess I'm just so accustomed to our friendship that I don't understand how it could be perceived in the wrong way. So I'm sorry for not seeing things from your perspective, that wasn't fair of me."

Brian smiled, warmly and broadly as he pulled his hands out of his pockets and gingerly stroked Erin's arms, drawing her closer to his body slowly until she was completely pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around her lithe frame tightly.

"Thank you," He muttered into Erin's hair and giggled softly when a few curly locks tickled his nose as he inhaled her perfume.

Her arms encircled his waist and Erin snuggled her face deeply into his upper body as he laughed, the vibrations that rumbled beneath his chest and trembled her cheek made her chuckle and look up.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Your hair, it tickles me," Brian answered and pushed a few curls away from her forehead then grazed his palm against her cheek and cradled her jaw in one of his hands. The laughter in his tone tapered off as his thumb lightly brushed over Erin's bottom lip and the heat beneath her skin flared up. "Erin?"

"Yeah?" She breathed.

"Can I kiss you?"

Erin nodded quickly and the grip on he had on her jaw tensed as Brian brought her face forward until their lips connected and Erin found herself physically restraining from moaning right there on the public sidewalk. Her fingertips pressed deeply into his hips as their heads tilted to opposite sides to allow them to deepen the kiss and when the tip of his tongue tentatively swiped over her bottom lip Erin definitely lost the battle of remaining silent so not to draw any more attention to them from anyone passing by. A soft and sultry moan purred at the back of Erin's throat when she felt his teeth playfully tug against her lip, Brian mirrored her enthusiasm and gently massaged his tongue against her own. When she felt his hands move downward from her jaw and completely bypass the rest of her body to place a firm grip on her hips Erin instantly pressed her hands against his chest to put the breaks on their make-out session and bring them both back to reality. Brian looked confused at first but it only took a few seconds for him to remember where they were which made him blush and bury his face into Erin's neck.

"Sorry," He chuckled but still playfully nibbled on Erin's skin before picking up his head to catch her eyes "I just missed you."

"I missed you too," Erin answered, and she honestly had missed him; especially kissing him. "But that reminds me I wanted to talk to you about something else."

"O-okay, well let's go inside."

"I don't think that's such a good idea," She chuckled and grabbed his hand, "Why don't we take a walk?"

Brian nodded, intertwined their fingers and began leading them in the opposite direction of his studio. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Us," Erin stated simply then pressed her head against his shoulder, "I think we should start taking things between us a little slower. I don't regret sleeping with you but during my reflection I kind of realised that we don't really know that much about each other and I would like to see where things go with you so we should put more effort into getting to know each other better instead of kissing. Even though you're really good at it."

Brian laughed and nodded when she was finished speaking "I understand that," he replied once he stopped chuckling, "I think that's a good idea but um, does that mean no more kissing?"

"No, we can still kiss. But no more sex, for now."

"Aw," Brian pouted and Erin swatted his shoulder. "I can agree to that. We can start now, I've been wondering what you plan on doing when you graduate."

"We haven't talked about that?" Erin asked and Brian shook his head "Oh, I want to be an English professor. I know it's kinda cliché being a foreigner and everything but I really enjoy teaching."

"Have you taught before?"

"Not by myself but my mom used to teach English for a few years when I was in high school and I would help her out with her classes sometimes, like a teacher's assistant. There's something so unfathomably satisfying about watching someone learn something, I love that feeling. It's actually kind of funny because I used to hate going to work with my mom, her kids were so...curious."

Brian grinned and glanced over at Erin, he enjoyed the way her eyes appeared to light up whenever she mentioned teaching, "Curious or nosy?"

"Both? They were more curious than nosy in the beginning. I remember the very first day I came to help grade papers a little girl who probably couldn't have been more than 6 or 7 asked me why I was so dark if my mom was white and I honestly did not know what to tell her. You've never seen my mom but she has really fair skin for a black person and she keeps her hair straight so all of her kids thought that she was white and that I was adopted or lying about being her daughter." Erin laughed "And annoying as that was I think that made me realise that I wanted to teach for the rest of my life. Some of the kids that my mom taught had never seen someone that looked like me before or read any of the books that we went over, but for the short time that they were with me their horizons were broadened and they realized that there's a big world out there that extends beyond their town or city. I don't know, I just like the thought of that.

"That's so compassionate, you're going to make a great teacher. You're graduating in few months right?"

Erin nodded.

"Do you know where you're going to be working?"

"No" She sighed dramatically and hunched her shoulders downward "Well that's not true, there's an international school in Busan that offered me a position but I want to stay in the city, I've gotten accustomed to being so close to Seoul I don't want to give it up. I have been looking, though, so hopefully someone in the city will be willing to take a chance on me. I feel like I've been talking about myself for hours tell me something about you; why did you become an artist?"

"Oh my story isn't really interesting" Brian deflected with small grin "My grandmother was a painter and she took care of me a lot since my parents worked a lot, some of my best memories are of me sitting on her lap watching her put strokes on a canvas that eventually turned into beautiful works of art. I've always been a creative person but if it wasn't for my grandmother and her encouragement I probably would have just ended up working for my father's company."

"That's sweet, she must be so proud of you now."

"She was....she was my biggest fan until she died a few years ago."

Erin frowned and rested her free hand against his arm, "I am so sorry."

"It's okay, I've come to terms with it now. She's been the inspiration for a lot of my pieces so I feel like that's her way of watching over me."

Erin nodded and squeezed his hand between her palm for reassurance. They continued their leisurely stroll with light conversation since the mood had become decidedly more solemn after Brian spoke about his grandmother. Erin informed him about what she'd been up to in the week she was avoiding him, which hadn't been much more than working and stressing about her exam results. Brian apparently had a gallery showing coming up at the end of the year that was taking up quite a lot of his time and he inadvertently mentioned that he had skipped a meeting with the art director tonight so that he could be with Erin. Which, of course, made Erin stop in her tracks and convince him to leave and reschedule his meeting while he still had the chance to.

"Brian, I'm serious you should go. I can get home by myself."

"But I-"

Erin grabbed his cheeks and pulled his face close to her own "Don't worry about me, or us I'm not mad at you anymore but I will be if you lose this opportunity just to hold hands with me," She pecked him on the lips then backed away. "Go."

Brian obviously had more he wanted to say but it was clear that Erin wasn't backing down since she was already calling a taxi, so he exhaled and admitted defeat. "Call you tomorrow?" He asked with a quick kiss on her cheek.

"I'll try to pick up" She joked and waved goodbye once he was darting back in the direction of his studio with his cell-phone already pressed to his ear.

There was an unusual amount of traffic in Brian's part of town so it took nearly an hour for Erin to get home but was she was her shoes came flying off and her jacket and blazer were both peeled off her shoulders and pooled on the floor near the front entrance. She could hear the sounds of the television before she even saw Sammy sitting on the couch being mesmerized by the box, he was still dressed in the sweats and t-shirt she'd left him in this morning which seemed unusual.

"You didn't go to work today? I thought you were on the schedule," Erin asked as she flopped down on the couch.

"I wasn't," He responded, offering Erin a small lazy smile as she sank down into the cushions a few seats away from him.

Then it was silent again, background noise from the TV made it only slightly less awkward but Erin still felt like peeling her own skin off just to give them something to talk about.

"I think I'm going to bed" She yawned after a few more seconds of unbearable stillness "Have a good night Sam."

Samuel grunted as she got up, still staring at the TV. His hand reached to the side to grab her wrist once she standing, his hold on her wrist was delicate and somewhat modest as if the was the first time he'd ever touched her and that made Erin raise an eyebrow in question.

"Don't forget we have rehearsal for the showcase tomorrow, don't sleep in."

"Yeah, I remembered" Erin agreed and Sammy released her wrist.

"Good night Erin."

Sweaty skin and the sound of overlapping gasps for air made the atmosphere humid in the small, cramped studio that Erin and Sammy currently occupied. Heavy droplets of sweat rolled down Sam’s neck and glided over his chest, making the thin fabric of his tank top cling to his taut skin as he cinched his arms around Erin’s waist in a hold so tight Erin wondered if she would be able to breathe. She answered his action by looping one of her arms around, the other securely gripping his shoulder as her right leg slowly inched upwards against his thigh. For just a moment the music playing softly in the background paused leaving the studio devoid of any sound other than Erin and Samuel's breath mingling until Erin made the foolhardy mistake of making eye contact with Sammy, which caused him to choke on his own spit and stumble backward - bringing Erin down to the ground with him.

"Sammy what the hell!" She exclaimed, clamoring to get up.

“Sorry,” Sammy muttered from beneath her “I-I lost my footing.”

Erin knew he was lying but didn't point it out, she scoffed as he once again tried to avoid looking at her directly, this time whipping his head in the opposite direction when she rolled her eyes at him. “Whatever,” Erin grumbled, “Can we just get this done so I can go?” Erin was well passed the point of trying to make Sammy behave normally with her, he had become more and more reclusive, secretive and just plain weird over the past few days. All her attempts at communication were ignored and honestly Erin was just too annoyed to try anymore. It hurt her, naturally, Sammy was and still remained a very large part of her life and even the idea of him refusing to have a real conversation with her made her throat tight. But she couldn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to do and Erin was slowly beginning to accept that. Perhaps their friendship had just run it’s course.

“Y-yeah, I’ll start the song again” Sammy replied while pushing himself to his feet. He brushed past Erin slowly enough for her to notice the small bruise starting to form on his bicep. Without really thinking, Erin reached out to stop him and gently ran her fingertips over the small area of his skin that was beginning to turn colour. It was a simple action, only meant to show concern for the pain he was probably experiencing, but the way Samuel reacted to her touch one would have thought that Erin had stabbed him in the back. He flinched tremendously and took a giant step backward to create an ample amount of space between them. This was the last straw.

“Ok, that’s it. What the fuck is going on with you?” Erin yelled and moved forward, completely ignoring his attempt to back away from her.

“What are you talking about-? Nothing’s wrong.” Samuel squeaked in response, eyes shifting to the side.

“Don’t lie to me Sam, you’ve been sulking around the apartment and jumping out of your skin every time I so much as look at you. If nothing's going on with you then why are you acting so weird?”

Sammy parted his lips to deny her suspicions again but Erin narrowed her eyes and pressed her lips tightly together, making him rethink the lie he was about to tell her and forcibly sigh instead.

“I don’t know if I should tell you...” he finally muttered, making Erin raise and eyebrow.

“Tell me what?”

He looked away from her again, this time in order to wrap his knuckles around the circumference of a nearby barre. Erin was growing less annoyed and more concerned the longer they stood in science, she could tell that whatever he had neglected telling her was still weighing heavy on his conscience.

“I-I…..I dropped out of college a few weeks ago” Sammy answered after taking a few deep breaths. Erin’s expressions shifted almost instantly, her eyebrows that had been knitted together in anger were now raised as highly as they could go and her jaw was completely slack.

“You….did...what?” She queried in a horrified whisper.

Erin always believed that Sammy and his siblings were lucky to grow up with such easy-going parents compared to her other Korean friends. She had heard much too many horror stories from her former classmates about their parents setting unrealistically high goals for them when it came to their education and plans for the future. Sammy’s parents didn’t seem to have quite the same viewpoint. Of course, they cared about their boys having a quality education but the strive for knowledge and thirst to be number one would never come before their mental health and happiness.

As easygoing as they were, however, it was always an unspoken expectation that their children would attain a degree. It didn’t matter what they majored in but there was just no way you could be a member of the Park household and not go to college. Or even worse, get into to a university and drop out halfway through. Erin suddenly understood why her roommate had been such a tool to live with lately, he was going through a life-changing crisis and she didn’t even know.

“Have you lost your mind?! Why would you drop out of college?”

“I never want to be an engineer E!” He shot back “I knew on my first day that it wasn’t for me but I pushed through because I thought it would get better, but that feeling only got worse and worse until one day I just snapped. I felt like I was on the brink of having a meltdown so just packed all my shit up and ran out of class.”

He was mumbled through his entire explanation, bottom lip quivering and the moisture in his eyes daring to betray him and fall any second if he kept speaking; which made Erin tear up immediately. In her heart, she felt that this was quite possibly the stupidest decision he’d ever made but it wouldn’t be right for her to tell him that. Not now, anyway.

“Sam,” Erin said softly, reaching upwards to place her palm against his cheek so that he was looking at her “Sammy why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you work through this.”

Sam sighed sharply and shook his head “That’s exactly why I didn’t say anything to you. You’ve known exactly what you wanted to do with your life since, what? Middle School? You had your reasons to push through the rough patches but what do I have? I don’t care enough about being an engineer to put myself through that Erin, I just won’t do it.”

A huff of air passed through Erin’s parted lips as she stared upwards into her best friends eyes. They were wet and still a little red from the possibility of him crying but they never wavered. He was serious about this and Erin was sure that no amount of lecturing on her behalf would make him change his mind. So she didn’t say anything else, she lowered her hands so that they met each other and locked behind his back and smothered her face into his chest. He was still hesitant to be so close to her, it seemed, but after a few moments he returned the gesture and pulled Erin flush against him like he always did when they hugged. Adding a tender kiss on the top of Erin’s head for flourish.

“Thank you for not calling me an idiot,” Sammy said sheepishly. “That doesn’t mean I’m not thinking it” Erin muttered in a low tone “But if you really feel like you have to do this then I have to support you. Have you told your parents yet?”

“Uh. No, not yet. I planned on surprising them a visit during Christmas and hoping that I work up the nerve to tell them by New Years.” Sammy bit his lip, “You should come with me.”

Erin frowned “I can’t….I’ve been planning this huge party at our apartment for the holidays. And Brian’s has been hinting that he may be taking me somewhere for Christmas.” She dropped the last part of her sentence in quickly, weirdly hoping that Sammy wouldn’t notice.

He did, obviously, and frowned just like Erin thought he would.

“But we should do something before you go!” She added with excitement “Maybe I can move the party up, instead of a holiday party it can be….’liberation’ themed. Since I’m graduating and you’ve kicked off the shackles of higher education.”

Sammy chuckled but shook his head, “You don’t have to do that, I don’t want to ruin your party plans.”

“Oh please, what plans?” Erin scoffed “All you need for a fun party is good liquor and fun people, I already have both of those things.”

Sammy pretended to think it over, tossing his head from side to side in thought before ultimately flashing Erin that infamous megawatt smile she’d been missing more than she realized. “The liquor better be really good.”

“All you do is drink until you pass out anyway would you even be able to tell the difference?” Erin teased.

They were still wrapped in each other's arms gazing at one another after their shared laughter died down and Sammy smoothed his hand against Erin’s hair with a serious smile.

“You’re my best friend, do you know that?” He asked a question they both knew the answer to.

“Of course I do, you’re mine too Sammy” Erin retorted with a quirked eyebrow.

“Am I? I feel like I’ve been pushing myself out of that spot lately.”

“You have been weird but… I mean, who could ever replace you?”

“Your boyfriend for one,” He replied quickly, without any trace of sarcasm.

Erin inadvertently rolled her eyes as a tight-lipped smile overtook her lips, “Boyfriends have always come and gone, but...you and I are forever Sammy. I don’t ever want you to think otherwise.”

The look in Samuel’s softened then, almost like he had something to get off his chest in response to Erin’s reassurance. His train of thought was derailed, however, when a series of short knocks echoed throughout the studio space; making them both snap their heads toward the door where Kasey was waiting with a smug smile plastered on her face.

“Is that Kasey-?” Sammy stuttered before Erin screeched so loud that it made him jump out of his skin.

“I completely forgot you were picking me up today!”

“Obviously, ” Kasey snickered under her breath “Come on if your coming, I don’t have all day!”

“Ugh, I gotta go, Sam, we can talk more when I get home right?” Erin said as she pulled away from his arms and jogged to the out the open door. Samuel nodded and waved as Erin gathered all her belongings and disappeared behind the closed studio door.

“So are you going to tell me what the hell that was about?”

Kasey and Erin were currently in the middle of a reasonable sized underground clothing store spending much more money than either of them originally planned to. Erin was at least five feet away from where her friend was standing, so Kasey’s question confused her at first.

“What?”

“You, Sam. Basically, eye fucking the shit out of each other in that hot ass studio? I thought you said he was a ‘you’ diet.” Kasey clarified.

“Oh, well that was nothing,” Erin said with a flick of her wrist to dismiss Kasey’s assumptions “He was just explaining why he’s been acting so weird lately. He’s been....stressed.”

“So naturally you two start coiling around each other like a pair of horny snakes, I guess this means you two are back to normal?”

“Honestly I don’t even know what normal is for us anymore...”

Kasey pursed her lips and stretched her arms across the clothing rack she was currently browsing, giving Erin a rare look of actual concern. “Y’know I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Erin.”

“I’m not buying you any more clothes today, use your own money” Erin answered without looking at her.

“I’m being serious, look at me for a second” Kasey beckoned “When are you going to move out? You graduate in couple months and I know you’ve been making enough to live on your own for a while, don’t you think it’s time.”

Erin shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other and clutched the blouse in her hands a little tighter. Moving into her own place was a decision she had been wrestling with for a while. In theory, it would be nice to have her own place again, Sammy wasn’t the cleanest person to live with and it the thought of being able to have certain guests over without worrying about offending her roommate was tempting. But even with all those positives Erin honestly couldn’t bare to think about having to live without Sammy, their lives were so intertwined now that just the thought of living somewhere without him was crippling.

“I’ve thought about it...”

“Which means you haven’t made any plans to move out, have you?”

“I can’t just leave Sammy high and dry, Kasey” Erin grumbled, “I know you don’t like him but have a heart.”

Kasey rolled her eyes and groaned loudly “Girl, who the hell said I don’t like him? I’ve been trying to push you two together since I met you, I just want you to start thinking about the future. How long do you think you can play house with your high school bestie?”

“I don’t know.”

Erin had been a nervous wreck for most of the day, as time crept forward she wondered whether throwing a house party in her apartment that she felt cramped in sometimes was the best idea. Once she got over the initial stress of actually planning a large gathering on such short notice, then preparing her house for said party Erin could honestly say she was looking forward to it.

So as she glided around the small crowd in her living room chatting with people she hardly knew that well and making sure no one was making a mess of her place Erin would not be lying if she said she was having a good time. A damn good time actually. She had managed to maneuver her and Sammy’s old futon and random furniture in ways that left a bit more space for a makeshift dance floor in front of the fireplace but also made it easy to pop in and out of the kitchen when she needed to. Which she had needed to do many times tonight considering that’s where everyone decided to drop off their random bottles of alcohol. There were enough bottles lining the counters to send all of her guests to an early grave but they didn’t seem to mind.

Least of all Sammy, who was spending more time in the kitchen than anywhere else that night.

“Yah, Sam! Are you just going to stay here all night, this party is for you” Erin yelled over the music “Mostly.”

Sam chuckled and took another sip of the liquid in his hands, his gaze dragging slowly from Erin’s feet to the top of her head. She wasn’t dressed in any particular appealing way, a knit dress that was too thin to wear outside during the winter and a pair of simple black flats. It was nothing, really, but Sammy couldn’t help but find her absolutely stunning no matter what.

“I’m easing my way into party mode, it’s still early” He offered in response.

“Is that so? Because to me, it looks like you’re hiding.”

“I’m just….I’m still a little freaked out I guess, I don’t have a job. I know my dad is going to fucking kill me when I tell him-”

Erin held up her hands wrapped her palm around Sam’s mouth to stop his verbal vomit.

“None of that tonight,” She pouted “You can start worrying again tomorrow but I want you to have fun tonight, so drink this-” Erin handed him the mixed drink in her hand, “And then come and dance with me, your song is on!”

The song playing was a seductive bass driven track designed to get people on the dance floor and Erin knew it was one of many that made Sammy move uncontrollable. Sammy snickered and muttered a soft ‘Fine’ into the cup before swallowing it’s contents and letting himself be dragged out of the kitchen. A few of their mutual friends cheered when he stepped onto the dance floor, knowing that he was known for putting on a show whenever his jam came on. But he surprised them all when instead of heading straight for the center of the floor he stepped off to the side and took Erin along with him, hold her back to his front as he swayed along to the beat until the pair fell into a rhythm. Their hips swaying, dipping and rolling in unison to the heavy bass line of the song.

Erin felt self-aware at first but soon she found herself becoming lost in their movement, she felt his hands securing their place on his hips, gripping her, almost possessively she was lost in Sammy's silent but deliberate seduction behind her. Not to be outdone, Erin wound her hips and bent her knees in time with the song, slowly but surely burying Sammy’s crotch tighter and tighter into her backside. She rested her back against his chest and curved her arm around to hook behind his neck. On instinct he bent down and nuzzled her neck and even with the loud music, he could felt the vibration of a moan buzz beneath her skin. He wanted to lick her, bite her, kiss her, anything to sate the desire he felt coursing through him. But that wouldn’t be right she had a boyfriend and he was sure any tentative bridge he had built to crossover from just being the best friend was burned when he convincingly proclaimed that she was nothing more than a sister to him.

Erin didn't seem interested in remembering her boyfriend or the friendship they’d spent years cultivating.She pushed his face further into her neck until he finally opened his mouth and sucked her skin. She hissed and encouraged him to continue when she threaded her fingers into his hair and lightly scratched his scalp. He held her lips tighter and thrust against her from behind and she moaned again. He continued to suck her skin, then kissed his way down to where her shoulder and neck met. He bit that spot and Erin gasped and actually stopped moving for a moment. "Don't stop," he whispered in her ear causing her to shiver and then resume her movements. Sammy’s hands left her hips and slid down her sides where they were met with the bare skin of her thighs. He gripped the flesh there before inching his hands up little by little, until one of them disappeared underneath her the hem of her dress. He skimmed her inner thigh and felt a tiny scrap of fabric that he assumed was a thong. The mental image of that made him groan. Erin stopped dancing again and she looked at him over her shoulder. They locked eyes and Sammy waited for her to tell him to stop.

She didn't.

And he just wasn't strong enough to stop himself. So instead of taking her against the wall of their apartment like every cell in his body was telling him to; Sammy grabbed Erin’s hand and swiftly guided her away from the crowd and into their sometimes shared bedroom where he immediately pinned Erin against the door.

“I can’t do this anymore.” He groaned in a hoarse whisper, then turned around, distraught as ever and Erin felt an immediate wave of regret wash over her.

“Do what?”

“This. Us.” He pointed a finger between the two of them. “Sit here and pretend that it doesn’t kill me to know that someone else is touching you the way I want to. I can’t stop thinking about you, Erin.” Erin wasn’t sure if she was hearing him correctly over the driving bass that made their bedroom door vibrate each time the beat dropped. She’d had dreams that started out this same way and honestly thought she was dreaming at that moment, then his hands were on her hips and the world around her stopped spinning. Her heart skipped a beat before it began to throb, ache, with the desire to have Sammy’s body pressed against her just like it was at that moment. Sam’s kiss was sudden and careless, slightly alarming, but so long-awaited that Erin felt lightheaded the moment their lips touched. Her arms lifted subtly from her sides, reached for Sam, grasping for any part of him she could find in the dark and pulled him even closer to her small frame while her lips moved over his in an unbridled fashion.

One of her treacherous hands moved to push his flimsy shirt upward when his hand curled beneath her thigh, but Erin caught herself before it reached it’s destination. She snapped her head back and look at Sammy, her eyes wide.

"We shouldn’t be doing this...We’re drunk and not thinking straight” Erin slurred as she tried to catch her breath and settle her her heart which was beating wildly within her rib cage.

“I’m not drunk,” Sam replied in a gentle whisper, cradling her chin in his hands “Are you drunk?”

“...No.” Erin admitted after a moment's pause. She wanted to blame her momentary lapse in judgment on being too impaired to know better but Erin was only buzzed at the most. She had nothing to blame her poor decisions on but her own weak will and the years of pent up tension that allowed her to effectively cheat on the man she was currently dating, without even a second thought.

“Don’t you think we should talk about this Sam?” She queried, the tips of her fingers dancing along Samuels’ pulse.

“I don’t wanna talk right now E,” Was his answer and then his lips were in their rightful place again. The more Erin thought about it the more she wanted to say ‘to hell with talking’, they could figure out what this meant for their friendship tomorrow.

Or never.

Which is why, instead of unlocking the door and going back to the party like she knew she should, Erin found herself gripping the cloth of Sam’s shirt again and bringing him down to her lips yet again. She kissed him slowly, this time, taking her time to explore just how kissing Samuel after all these years made her feel.

It was exhilarating, as their lips connected and soon the kiss deepened, Sam’s hips pressing into her core and Erin found a more primal side of herself awaken from slumber. That feeling absolutely terrified her. She popped her lips off Sammy’s for the second time that night and backed away from him “Shit, Sammy I’m sorry. I jus-I can’t do this right now” she gasped loudly and moved to fumble with the door until she got it to unlock. Using all her strength she pulled the door open, pushed Sam against the back of it and headed straight into the center of the crowd.

a/n: the next two chapters are a bit short so I may end of combing them like I did with this one. we’ll see!

#btsguild #houseofddaeng #bangtanarmynet #j hope fanfic #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #j hope x reader #bngtanah #dbbg

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castcharmperson · 6 years ago

Text

Taakitz: Crossover

What up!! It’s November!! Literally my only note to myself when writing this story was, and this is a direct copy-paste from my google doc, “For the love of god i gotta keep this one short or I’ll lose my mind.” AND NOW I HAVE 9k+ WORDS SO???

A thousand thank you’s to the folks behind @taakitzweek - participating was a joy and a privilege and gifted me this AU that I’m pretty sure will live in my heart forever. To be posted in six parts over the course of the next week. Please enjoy part one of Speed Trap, a b99 styled, white collar inspired, non-magical modern au where Taako does a crime and Kravitz absolutely does not get paid enough to deal with it. Warning for a paraphrase of the ‘tentacle your dick’ quote.

It wasn’t Taako’s fault that he got fired. The product was damaged, some kid was clumsy in the back of the shop, so the manager told Taako to throw out it. Sure, the eyeshadow palette was cracked, but other than that it was perfectly fine. Some pigment from the blue crossed into the green, but honestly, Taako had several outfits that would be amazing with that unique shade of teal. So the product was supposed to go in the trash, instead it ended up in Taako’s pocket. There was almost no difference between the two, especially when he changed out of his work uniform and into his black skinny jeans that were all but threadbare.

But then he was in the parking lot, sitting on the hood of his car and nowhere near the store, when his manager thought it’d be a great time to remind him that smoking would be the death of him. Seriously, Taako was off the clock and even if he wasn’t, his manager wasn’t his mom, don’t tell him what to do.

“Hey, why do you have one of our palettes in your pocket?”

So now Taako didn’t have a job. Again. He’d been lucky to score that easy gig, to have some sort of start at paying off his loans, but now he was blacklisted from the entire mall. And it wasn’t like he could work in any of the restaurants nearby because his asshole ex-boyfriend had literally soured every contact they had in the food industry.

Taako had three degrees to his name. He was an engineer and a chef, but even before his credibility was destroyed, the only thing his fancy education brought him was a bank account perpetually in the red.

“Hey Koko, you’re home early.” Lup shrugged off her uniform jacket and went directly to the fridge. Living with his sister was the best thing to happen to him since coming back from the nightmare Paris had turned into. She had a steady job, a dangerous one, but she was never late to pay rent like he always seemed to be. She was so patient with him, it almost felt unfair. She really should have kicked him out by now; instead, she constantly reminded him that his luck would change any day now. He’d catch his break, or there was always a job for him at the station.

He appreciated her offer, he really did, but Taako he knew he wouldn’t survive a day being a police officer. The idea of him being in uniform and competently saving lives was laughable. He barely managed to handle the stress of knowing his sister was putting her life on the line for this shitty city.

“Uh, yeah.” And he could not handle the stress of her knowing he got fired again.

“Everything okay? I know you’re manager’s a jerk but maybe-“

“They actually got fired today.” What? No, stop. He was not lying to his sister, she’d see right through him. Instead, Lup turned around grinning. “Yeah and um, I’m the new manager. Regional position, actually, pretty nice.”

“Taako!” She was hugging him and he felt sick. “That’s amazing! I told you things would turn around!” What happened to twin telepathy? Why did she believe him? Why was he lying to her??

She said something about a date with Barry, but Taako was barely listening. Now that he was thinking about it, it wasn’t surprising that she believed him; they didn’t keep things from each other, she had no reason to suspect anything.

Home alone again, the smart thing to do would be to tell her the truth. Text her. It would maybe ruin her date, but at least the fall out would be buffered until she got back home. Besides, date night with Barry meant the two of them were shopping for Mr. and Mrs. suitcase sets or some other gross couple-y nonsense. There wasn’t much to ruin. She’d be mad, but in time, everything would be fine.

Just sitting on the couch, phone in hand as he hovered over the digital keyboard, he was already nauseous from her imagined anger. Getting fired again was bad enough, but lying to her? Why did he say that?

The smart thing to do would be telling the truth. But the Taako thing to do would be to make the truth. He said he got promoted, new job, new hours, new money. All he had to do was find that job.

Next morning, he was out of the house before she even woke up. Note on the fridge, something vague about new hours for manager training and a breakfast pastry waiting for her, and she wouldn’t suspect a thing. Taako wasn’t sure where he was going to find this new truth of a job, but it had to be out there. The mall by the house wasn’t an option, but there were other malls and he had gas to burn after swiping that seemingly unlimited gift card off of some rich asshole a few months back.

Speeding down the highway, Taako forced himself to be hopeful. It was the tail end of fall, places would be hiring. The kids to help with the summer rush all had classes again and stores wanted to start preparing for the holiday rush. Lup was right, even if she didn’t know the whole picture. His luck was turning.

But maybe that luck was taking a smoke break as he heard sirens behind him. Glancing in the mirror, a cop car tailed him down the freeway. “Bullshit,” Taako cursed as he pulled over. Everyone sped down this stretch, why was he being pulled over?

He rolled down his window and was treated to someone glaring at him through a large pair of aviators. “Sir, do you know how fast you were going?” Ridiculous sunglasses matched with an equally ridiculous accent. No way that was real.

Taako couldn’t help himself, losing the fight against the grin taking over his face. “Blimey, officer, I ain’t sure.” It’d been over a decade since his and Lup’s high school stardom in a rather strange retelling of Oliver Twist but Taako’s accent was still more believable than the officer’s.

The officer’s brow twitched and then the glasses came off as though Taako’s joke might have somehow been a trick of his lenses. “Excuse me?” The accent was faltering worse now, but without the glasses, Taako was able to fully appreciate the man’s face.

“Oh wow, if all the cops were as handsome as you, I’d maybe be tempted to follow all the laws.”

The handsome man’s face twisted further in confusion. “What is wrong with you? I’m giving you a speeding ticket and you’re hitting on me?”

Taako just shrugged, but then the threat of a ticket finally sunk in. “Wait, shit, a ticket? Come on, I couldn’t have been going that fast.”

“I’ve certainly seen faster on this street, but eighty in a fifty five still isn’t great.”

Taako did the math real quick, facts and figures from Lup’s studying for the academy still fresh in his mind even though she’d graduated years ago. There was no way he could afford a ticket for going that high over the limit. “Okay hold on, hot stuff. Can’t you cut me a break? First time offense and all?”

“Not five seconds ago, you admitted to me that the lack of attractive police force was contribution to your history of crime.” His tone was turning amused now, seeming to enjoy the way the conversation had slipped back into his control. His smile was unfairly charming, even if the accent was still disastrous.

Taako couldn’t afford to be distracted though. “I’m not a criminal! Dude, come on, I will give you everything in my wallet if you don't ticket me.”

“Bribing an officer? I do not want to deal with the paperwork for that. Just stay here.” He started back to his squad car and Taako leaned out the window to holler after him.

“Come on, hot stuff, don’t be like this! At least lemme get that name, I’m about to suck your dick for free if I can’t do it to get out of a ticket!”

The officer ignored him, coming back to throw a slip of paper through Taako’s window. His sunglasses were back on, covering some of his face but not enough to hide the blush from what Taako had been shouting at him. “Do me a favor, Mr. Taako? Be a criminal in some other district because I would love to never ticket you again.”

At least the piece of paper gave Taako a name: K. Queen. Not that it meant anything with one of the most common last names in the city. Besides, Taako couldn’t exactly try to hook up with someone if he got arrested for overdue fines. Long after the officer drove off, Taako sat in his own car on the side of the highway. The price mocked him from the piece of paper, like it knew he’d never afford it and rent at the same time.

Another car zoomed past him, easily going over the eighty Taako had been caught for. If only he could pull over that guy, charge him in order to pay off his own ticket. It’d be fair- there were drunk drivers and reckless assholes all over this stupid city. They should be getting ticketed, not him!

Wait… That wasn’t a bad idea.

[Part Two]

Please come scream at me in my ask box about this AU because even after I post all of this fic I might write little bonuses for it. And thanks so much for reading! I know I am well past the taakitz week deadline for posting this. If you want to, check out my charmedwords tag for more taz fics!

#taz #The Adventure Zone #fanfic #taakitz #2taakitz2week #taz taako #taz kravitz #taz lup #mentions of barry #mentions of blupjeans #au #speed trap au #title subject to change if someone sends me a better idea #charmedwords #how did this turn into 9k??#and i still have to edit the other five parts AND YOU KNOW i'll add more words in the edit because i always do

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askteamheadphones · 7 years ago

Note

Well! I guess someone has some explaining to do— on both sides i guess!

It was a little odd to be sitting in Kurusu-kun’s room, with several eyes staring directly at him. What was more jarring was Morgana, who looked like a completely normal cat, was now staring at him and asking him questions with his tiny little voice. He’s heard it before, but having it directed at him was so weird. Yosuke fidgets in his seat and turns his head to look at Minato. As usual, his roommate looks unaffected by the turn of events.

It would seem that their peculiar lives would continue to get even more peculiar. Yosuke wonders if they’re ever going to get a taste of normalcy again. He wonders if he would prefer normalcy over all the supernatural shit that’s been happening to them, but the hum of his inner voice, the voice of his persona, reminds him that despite everything he’d never want to go back to a normal life.

“How did you get into the Metaverse?” Morgana asks, paws delicately posed in front of himself. His tail moves behind him slowly, almost hypnotizing. His eyes, now that Yosuke managed to get a good look, are an uncanny shade of blue. It reminds him of Teddie.

“We were looking for you,” Minato pipes up, for once talking instead of letting Yosuke do the talking for him. “And then we found ourselves there… In that Metaverse-thingee you’re talking about. That’s what you call the other world?”

Makoto nods her head, and pulls the seat across from them so she can sit down. She rests her elbows on the table and leans forward, looking much like she’s used to interrogations. “That’s correct. So from what I understand, this really was a coincidence then?”

“That’s right,” Minato talks again, taking the lead. It’s really surprising to see the shift in his demeanor. He’s sitting up straight now and his voice is still soft but clear, and he has an air to him that leaves no room for disagreeing. “But I’m thinking you’re having a hard time believing that.”

The rest of the teenagers look uncomfortable to be there. Ann, Ryuji, and Yusuke have taken up the space on Akira’s bed. Akira is situated beside Makoto, though his expression is hard to read.

“Yes,” Makoto continues, with an almost flawless poker face. “We’ve been told that there is another person to be wary of, one who bears a black mask, such as yourself Arisato-san. So you have to understand that we can’t really trust you so instantly.��

“That’s fair,” Minato replies with a shrug. It really is, they can’t prove their innocence.

“But we want to help you,” Yosuke says, a little too loudly, a little too enthusiastically, and he winces a little bit at his own volume before toning it down. “I don’t understand what’s going on, but you’re dealing with Shadows, right? We can help you. We’ve dealt with them before.”

Akira, Morgana, and Makoto share looks.

“You’ve dealt with them before?” Akira asks, and somehow he feels more threatening than he looks. Yosuke wonders if he’s said something wrong. “Where?”

Yosuke scratches the back of his neck, and shifts his gaze to Minato again. How much should he share? Should he tell them everything? And even if he did tell them everything, it didn’t prove that he or Minato are trustworthy. He takes a deep breath and sighs, before shaking his head. “Have you heard of the Inaba Murders?”

Akira’s expression changes slightly. “Yes.”

“I was involved with that— My friends and I were,” Yosuke continues. “The reason it took so long for the cops to solve the case was because another world was being used to murder, a world where Shadows were roaming free,” he explains. He continues to explain the rest of the story, leaving out the embarrassing secrets of his friends, and the emotional turmoil they all had to go through. He explains it like he was explaining a history lesson, and it was over faster than he expected it to be.

“So you two have been fighting for that long then,” Ann speaks up. She looks awed, almost like she’s amazed.

“He’s been fighting longer than I have,” Yosuke says with a small smile, nudging his elbow into Minato’s side. His smile softens a little, then he places a hand on Minato’s shoulder. “Do you want to tell them about…?” he hesitates. He knows Minato doesn’t really like talking about what happened to him and his group, he knows that Minato gets cagey and uncomfortable. It’s not his story to tell, not unless Minato gives him to go signal to.

Minato folds his arms across his chest, a gesture Yosuke knows is emotionally defensive. “I’ll talk,” Minato says to him in a whisper.

“He was involved with the Inaba Murders,” Minato starts. “But I was involved with the Apathy Syndrome cases.” Minato’s story is a lot more shorter than Yosuke’s, but that’s only because Minato didn’t want to share more than what was necessary. He completely leaves out the fact that, for a while, everyone thought that he was never going to wake up again.

Makoto’s poker face was gone now, replaced with curiosity and realizations. Like she was putting the pieces together. “I’ve read up on those cases,” Makoto answered them back. “Both the Apathy Syndrome cases and the Inaba Murders,” she clarifies. “I, uhm, read about them on the police database,” she prayed her sister would never find out, “and the documented files were so vague, almost as if whoever wrote them was confused. Like they didn’t really know what was going on.”

Yosuke nodded, and relaxed a little bit. “Well, how can you explain another world to people who wont believe it?”

“That’s why you can talk to us about it,” Minato tells them. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet, flipping through it as he looks for something. Hidden under several other cards, he pulls out an I.D., and slides it across the table towards Makoto and Akira. “What the regular police can’t handle, things like the supernatural, our organization steps in.”

“Oh yeah!” Yosuke exclaims, slapping his hand against his forehead. “Duh!” He pulls out his I.D. too, slides it across the table and grins. “We’re Shadow Operatives and it’s our job to deal with stuff like this!”

“Reserved members,” Minato mutters. Yosuke steps on his foot under the table. “What? We are.”

Yosuke grumbles but relents. Right, honestly is the best policy and all that. “Yeah, yeah. Fine. We are reserved members, but only until we graduate.” He scratches his head and slumps in his seat. “All we’re allowed to do is look out for people who have the potential, and hey. I guess you guys fit the description?”

Minato clears his throat, reaches over to take back his I.D. “Yeah, we found you but ultimately it’s still up to you if you want to join us or not. It’s still up to you to trust us too, we’re not going to force you. But I’m sorry, now that we know, we’re still going to keep tabs on you just to make sure that you’re not plotting against the world or something.”

Yosuke takes his I.D. back as well. “Since we’ve told you our stories, can we listen to yours?”

The Phantom Thieves look at each other. They seem to be in agreement, though mostly shocked. All this time, they were around people who could fight like they could, all this time there were more people out there like them, with the gift of persona. It almost felt like they were all connected somehow, and it was hard to doubt no matter how strongly logic begged them to.

So they tell their story, how it started with Kamoshida, then Madarame, then currently Kaneshiro. They talk about their speculations, and explain that the Phantom Thieves have nothing to do with the current Psychotic Breakdowns that have been happening lately.

“Like Apathy Syndrome…” Minato mutters.

“Yes! I was thinking the same thing,” Makoto agrees. Whatever doubt she had for them was waning, now she saw them as an opportunity to learn more about these cases, to try and figure out whatever she could to see the whole picture. “Arisato-san, could we perhaps exchange emails? There’s much I want to talk about but,” with a glance to her watch she grins sheepishly. “It’s getting pretty late.”

The two exchange emails quickly, but Minato gives her a small smile. “I can try and get the documents for you, though only the hard copies. It’s safer that way,” he explains. “But I can’t promise you that.”

Akira seems more than happy to know that Minato wasn’t a bad guy or anything.

“If you betray us,” Morgana warns, though it doesn’t seem as threatening coming from a cute cat. “There will be hell to pay!”

Yosuke laughs lightly and nods, courageously reaches out to scratch the back of Morgana’s ears. “We’ll help you however we can.”

As everyone parts ways for the night, the two Shadow Operatives linger in front of Le Blanc’s entrance. Minato looks up to the moon as he always does and sighs. Yosuke follows his gaze and frowns. “I don’t think we should tell the others about this just yet.”

“They… I think they trust us, only because they already like us,” Minato admits. It’s pretty naive on their part, he’s just glad that he and Yosuke were actually not bad people. “They didn’t tell us not to tell anyone but, I don’t want to betray their trust.”

Yosuke laughs though there’s not much humor to it. “Ahhh, if something goes wrong Kirijo-san’s going to kill us for not saying anything earlier.”

Minato shrugs. “We were young once too,” Minato grins. “Kids and their secrets, right?” he knows that if he were to tell Mitsuru, the young Phantom Thieves wouldn’t be able to completely trust him as a friend. He didn’t want that, and Mitsuru tended to take things to the extreme.

“Hey, stop making us sound so old,” Yosuke laughs genuinely this time, and punches Minato’s arm.

“I guess,” Minato grins. “But we have to be good senpais. No secrets between us.”

Yosuke raises his fist. Minato looks at it, then bumps his own against it. “No secrets.”

Extra:

“How are you getting home, Kitagawa?”

Yusuke looks for the source of the voice, finding their new allies approaching him. “Ah, it would seem that the last train has left,” he admits with a small frown. He was extremely glad that the two older persona users were friends. He’d already grown fond of them.

“Yeah? Where ya’ heading?” Yosuke asks, his hands shoved into his pockets to keep them warm.

“Ah, the Kosei dorms…” Yusuke mutters. “I was planning to walk there—”

“That’s too far to walk!” Yosuke yelps, he looks aghast at the idea. “We can call you a cab if you—”

“I don’t have the funds…” Yusuke sighs with a small frown.

“Oh, no problem. It’s on me,” Yosuke says, already leading the three of them towards the road. But before he can raise his arm to call a cab, Minato puts his hand on Yosuke’s elbow to stop him. “Whatsa matter, Minato?”

Minato turns to Yusuke. Yusuke has to stop himself from leaning down to hear his soft voice. “Does your dorm have a curfew?”

“Ah…” that completely slipped Yusuke’s mind. The last time he missed curfew he had to wait until someone came out, and that took several hours. “Yes, there is, and it would seem that it is passed that time.”

“Bummer,” Yosuke looks sympathetic. He’d never had a curfew, his parents were slave drivers sure but they gave him plenty freedom to roam around at night both in the city and in Inaba. “You could sleep over at our place,” he suggests without skipping a beat.

“I wouldn’t want to impose,” Yusuke tries to interject. He feels mildly embarrassed.

“Akira said to be ready for tomorrow, right?” Minato says, and looks fairly serious. “So you should be well rested.”

Yosuke’s already got Yusuke by his elbow, dragging him along the street towards their apartment. “Yeah, that’s right! And we may have been fighting for a while now, but that other world is still new to us so you’re going to have to be prepared in case either of us screw up.”

“I wont screw up,” Minato points out. He’s on Yusuke’s other side, almost as if he were making sure the young artist could not escape their hospitality. “It’s mostly Yosuke, he’s very clumsy.”

“You know, you’re a lot more talkative when it’s to talk shit about me,” Yosuke pouts.

As the roommates bicker, Yusuke finds himself finding comfort. He was severely thankful that they were friends.

#[[ a giant friendly reminder that this blog is Extremely Self Indulgent ]]#[[ so im really sorry for plot holes and inconsistencies ]]#[[ i didnt plan this everything is written on the fly lmao ]]#persona #crossover #Anonymous #thekingofpickles #spoiler

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imagineswriting47 · 7 years ago

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Christmas Pride Part One

A/N: This is for the Anon who asked Hey! Can you do an imagine of the reader being Harry's twin and although she's in Gryffindor and loves any blood status,shes the only non-Slytherin that loves and wants to understand the Slytherins,like she'll be playful with them and genuinely loves her professor Snape even going as far as buying him gifts for Christmas and being nice to him, it overall confuses the shit outta all of them but they all warm up to her?please and thank you!

This is NOT bata read so all mistakes are mine and mine alone.

Warnings: NONE

Parings: Reader/Harry(Siblings)

Y/N: Your Name Y/F/N: Your Friends Name

The thing about being the twin sister of The Boy Who Lived made life more difficult than I wanted not just for me but also for Harry. If I thought that life with our Aunt and Uncle was bad it had nothing on the things that always seemed to happen when we were at Hogwarts. And this year was no different, we just had an escaped convict after us that sold our parents out to Voldemort. This was becoming our new normal and I don't really know how I feel about it. I loved my brother there was never a question about that but that didn’t mean that we got a long all the time. It seemed more times than not we were fighting over something. Maybe the two of us were going in different directions with our lives?

“Harry is it so hard to just walk away!” I yell at him from where I stand across from him in the common room. Fighting always fighting it seems, he has always had a temper but lately it has gotten so out of hand.

“He started.” He grumbled like the child that he was acting like everytime he got into a fight with someone.

“It doesn’t matter who started it Harry; all that matters is that you reacted. We aren’t children anymore. I just,” I let out a deep breath before continuing by saying, “I just can't anymore.” I walk out of the portrait hole not having anything more to say to him. I know that him and Malfoy don't get along and I am not asking him to become his best friend but he can't keep letting his temper get the best of him. I have been doing everything that I could to keep him safe, I’m the oldest not my much but still.

After walking away from Harry before I could say something that I couldn’t take back. Things between Harry and I have been difficult since we started here at Hogwarts. We both might have been put in Gryffindor but houses don't matter to me. They don't define you, you do. With your actions and the things that you say. Harry and the other don't seem to get that I wish that they did. I never felt like I fit in with others my age always feeling so much older than them I can only hope that they learn the same things that I already know.

The sun had long since fallen behind the tree’s of the Forbidden Forest taking the warmth with it. I should have brought my cloak with me but I didn’t think about it when I left; in a hurry to get away needing the peace and quiet of being alone. I can see my breath by the time I hear the sound of footsteps making their way up the steps of the tower.

“Miss. Potter what are you doing up here?” I hear from the doorway I turn to find Professor Lupin standing there. Looking as tired as I am feeling this last full moon must have been hard on him.

“I needed to be alone. How are you Professor?” I ask him the pain from the full moon still lingering in his muscles.

“I’m doing fine. Way did you need to be alone?” He asks as he slowly takes a seat against the wall. His voice kind like always but when you know what to look for you can hear sadness and pain never quiet leaving the sound of his voice.

“Harry and I got into an argument. He got into a fight with another student, I just want to keep him safe but he is making it hard to do that.” I say as I let my shoulder slump even further as I talk to him. The feeling of the darkness all around me seems even darker now that I have said it out loud.

“Miss Potter, did I ever mention that I knew your parents? I knew who you where the moment that I saw you. You look so much like your Mother but your eyes are your Father's.” He tells me as he gets this far away look in his eyes as he talks about them. The pain and sadness making more sense now than before. He lost just as much as I did maybe even more when my parents were killed. I had Harry with me growing up; did he have anyone?

“Your really knew them?” I ask him as I turn to look at him, my eyes growing wide. I need to know the truth, no one talks about them. I know nothing about them, I didn’t even know that I looked like Mum. Everyone always seems to forget that I lost my parents too. Not just Harry.

“I did. Your Father was one of my best friends along with your Mum. Harry and your Dad are so much alike that it is scary sometimes. Just like you are like your Mother. Kindness and all.” We sit there talking for another hour before I have to leave and make my way back to the dorm room. I don't want to leave for the first time I can ever remember someone was telling me about my parents. About me and where I come from I feel closer than ever before to my past now than ever before.

“Bye Professor.” I say as I stand from the ground I hold my hand out to him so that I can help him to his feet. He takes my hand letting me help pull him to his feet; I can see the wince of pain the flashes across his face making me feel bad that he sat there on the ground this long. Before I can think better of it I am hugging him. It takes him a moment to hug me back but he does.

“Thank you.” I mumble as I pull out of the hug and walk down the stairs; I have a connection to the past now.

Things changed after that talk with Professor Lupin and the fight with Harry. Part of me quit caring about what others thought about me. I learned that I could be me and make friends with who ever and I found a really good friend with the girl that I had been assigned to work with. Her name was Y/F/N and we started to hang out all the time. The look on peoples faces was priceless and it lead to a really big fight with Harry. He doesn’t trust them believing them to be evil and he wouldn’t listen to me when I tried to tell him otherwise. This is the longest time we have ever gone without talking its to the point that I am not even sitting at the Gryffindor table choosing to sit with Y/F/N at the Slytherin table.

Christmas was getting closer and I still had things that I wanted to get. I had ordered most of the stuff at the beginning of the year so I knew that I would have enough time to get it. Most of it has been hidden in my trunk at the end of my bed but I wanted to get something for Y/F/N. I knew that she was going home to her family but I wanted her to have something when she got back. So sitting in the common room going through order catalog trying to find something.

It was harder than I thought to find something that I thought that she would like. I had found something for Professor Lupin and even Professor Snape. They were just books and potions ingredients but I thought that they would like them. I finally come across a necklace that had protection spells on it that is beautiful writing down the order numbers and getting the money I run up to the owlery.

Order placed I walk back in from the cold and go to the library to finish the work that the teachers had given us to do over break. It didn’t take long for me to do all the work, I was just happy to be getting it out of the way so I wouldn’t have to do it in a rush the day before class starts again. On my way back to the dorms to put my school work a way I am not paying attention to where I am going; walking around a corner I run straight into what seems to be a wall. I fall to the ground dropping my bag and making all of my things fall out of the bag and all over the floor. It wasn’t a wall that I had walked into, but I wouldn’t doubt that it could happen, I walked right into Professor Snape.

“I’m sorry Sir. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” I say to him as I start to pick my things up off the floor. I was expecting to have points taken away from me so I was not expecting him to help me pick my things up and hand them to me.

“Thank you Sir.” I mumble as I take the things that he is handing me. Most of it just being free parchment that I didn’t use to do my work today.

“Miss. Potter, and what are you doing down here?” He asks me as the two of us stand to our feet. His cloak billowing behind him; I wonder how her gets it to do that? Does he use magic to always make it stay like that?

“Wanted to get all the work done before break was over.” I say to him. I was never one to leave my work till the last minute, wanting to get my work done as soon as i got it leaving me time to do what I want other that the school work that I was given.

“And did you?” His deep voice sounds in the hallway.

“I did, it wasn’t that hard to do just took some time to do.” I say as I shrug my shoulder at him. This might be the first conversation that I have had with him.

“Even the potions essay?” He raises his eyebrow at me then. I will admit that his essay was not the easiest to do but nothing that I could not do. I like potions it is actually my favorite class not that anyone knows that.

“Yes, it wasn’t too difficult but I like potions so I enjoy the work for the most part, well until a cauldron exposes. I don't care for that, and it make a mess that you then had to clean it up.” I say with a smile on my face as I look up to him. I can see shock on his face but only for a moment before it is gone leaving the same expression that is always on his face.

“Is that so.” He says to me.

“Yes Sir. I will see you later Sir.” I state as I walk away from him and finally make my way back to the common room. I work on wrapping the gifts that I have in the time that I have before dinner. It doesn’t take long most would have wrapped them with magic but I never felt right using magic for something that I could do without it. When dinner came around I made my way down to the Great Hall; not to many students were left in the school many having gone home for the holidays the other day.

Most students were sitting at the same table in the middle of the room. I didn’t have anyone to sit with still not talking to Harry and Y/F/N went home for the holidays. I can feel eyes on me making me look up from where I am sitting to the head table find Professor Snape and Lupin both looking at me. I look away from them and to the others that are sitting at the same table as me quickly finding my brother laughing and talking to his friends my appetite goes away. I stand from the table and leave the Great Hall. Once back in the dorms I find the things that I had ordered sitting on my bed. I wasn’t expecting them for another couple of days shocked. I set to wrapping the last of the gifts.

“He misses you to Y/N.” I look up at the sound of the voice not expecting anyone to be back yet I jumped in the air.

“No he doesn’t Hermione. I don't blame him it just hurts he has been my best friend since as long as I could remember. We have others now but I just always thought that we would make our way back to each other.” I mumble out as the last gift that had been sitting on my bed.

“He will come around, just as soon as he gets over his pride. The same as you.” She sits on the side of my bed her words are meant to be kind but they make me stop and think.

“Pride will be the downfall of us all Hermione.” I stand from my bed and walk over to my trunk and pull it open I place the gifts in it before grabbing my cloak and walking out of the room. I don't say goodbye to Hermione nor do I tell her where I am going. I need to be alone and I am finding that I am needing to be alone more now than ever before.

I wrap my cloak around myself and make my way down to the Black Lake. I cast a warming charm onto myself as I am walking. I don't notice the cold it having never bothered me before. I sit on the snow covered ground and pull my knees up to my chest. I watch the snow fall all around me finding beauty in it. The cold bites my cheeks turning them red I tilt my head up to the sky and let the snow land on my face. I hear a sound near me, the sound of the snow crunching under feet. I turn to the sound find a big black dog walking not to far from me but keeping a safe distance as if it did want to get to close to me.

“It’s alright.” I hold my hand out to the dog and it walks closer to me. Once the dog is in reaching distance it starts to sniff my hand. “It’s alright I’m not going to hurt you. I’m Y/N Potter” I say to the dog not understanding why in need to tell the dog my name but I did. At the sound my name the dog seems to take an even bigger interest in me. He lays down in the snow near me and lays his head in my lab. I don't think about it when I starts to scratch behind his ears. We sit there me scratching him and enjoying the company of him.

I eventually have to leave where I am sitting and go back to the castle leaving the dog down by the lake. It is almost curfew by the time that I get back; I don't find anyone in the halls so when I step into the dorm I didn’t think that any of the few Gryffindors would be out in the common. I was wrong, Harry was waiting for me.

A/N: If you liked this please hit that heart. If you really liked it please re-blog!

Request are closed. Tag list is open

#Harry Potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #harry potter fandom #harry potter spells #severus snape #severus snape fanfiction #severus snape imagine #severus/reader #ron weasley

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syllysyl · 7 years ago

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Sad-stuff happening in my life rn

So there’s some really sad shit happening in my life right now and I don't usually put personal stuff on here but keeping things bottled up is bad so

My boyfriend broke up with me. We've been together for over 6 years and have been living together the past six months. He told me he was unhappy. He felt that he wasn't actually ready to move out and only did it to make me happy.

Lemme tell ya that just kinda stings. I'm not mad at him. I'm frustrated and upset, but not really at him. I admit I pressured him into moving out with me and I know that's on me. I was so ready to move out, to be on my own and be my own person and in my tunnel vision i just didn't think about his feelings.

That being said...I wish he would have communicated it to me sooner. He's been distant and upset lately the past month or so but whenever I asked him what was wrong he'd come up with some excuse (saying he was tired, wasn't feeling well, etc). But what's done is done I guess

He's a good guy (hence why we were together for so long) and he had already spoken to our landlady about pre-paying his half of the rent until the end of the lease. So he didn't leave me out to dry in that respect. He did take the TV because it was his and also the two cats, since they came from his parents house. Once I told my mother all this she bought me a TV as an early christmas gift so theres that. Also I live across the street from an adoption center and I might be getting a cat soon. I'll need something to occupy all this free time I have all of a sudden.

It hurts. We talked about marriage and kids openly. I had my whole future planned with him, about him, around him. We knew what we were gonna name our kids and we knew what dogs we wanted. I thought I had everything figured out. But damn, life just happens so fucking fast. I'm sitting in my apartment and it's quiet. He's not playing on his computer and talking to his friends about Destiny 2. It's so quiet here even though I have markiplier on. I don't know how I'm going to sleep. My chest feels so tight.

I'm alone for the first time in 6 years. Actually, more than that, because he was my best friend before we started dating. I don't plan on going on dates anytime soon and tbh I don't even know where I would even begin in that respect.

I have a really good support system thankfully. My mom, who's been more or less a thorn in my side for a while, is actually being really respectful. I hung out with her all afternoon and into the evening while he packed up his stuff in the apartment. She isn't talking about how bad a boyfriend he was (which he wasn't!) or pointing out his flaws to make me feel better. I haven't told every one of my friends yet because it's still really hard to say outloud, but I have told a few. They are my voice of reason in this hard time.

I feel numb right now, mostly. I still burst into tears now and again but I'm going to work on myself. I just got promoted at my job so theres that and also finals are coming up soon. The good thing about all this is that I don't have anything really holding me back. I can focus only on school and work and hopefully that'll distract me. Maybe I'll go to the gym, do some kickboxing classes like I've always wanted.

And not that he was preventing me from doing these things, but it's harder going home to an empty apartment than it was going home to someone willing to kiss all the troubles of the day away.

All in all, I'm hurt. I'm mad at myself for not taking his feelings into account and I'm frustrated at him for not talking to me. But it is what it is. I'm gonna visit my sister in March, since she'll have had her baby by then and maybe my nephew can be the new most important man in my life <3

I've already blocked/deleted him on social media, and some places he even beat me to the punch. I don't think there's a possibility of us staying friends which is understandable. It's hard to just forget 6 years.

I just needed to get this out somewhere. And I'm not gonna force it on anyone which is why it's under cut. Anyone who did get this far, thank you for reading. Even if no one read this far, I can pretend that someone did and that alone helps a bit.

I hope everyone else is having a better day than me. Goodnight.

#syl speaks #sorry its so long #personal #im not gonna put a delete later #this is kinda important to me and i wrote it while i was in a good enough place #so maybe when im in a bad place again i can come back and read this and maybe feel better

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zzzoloft · 5 years ago

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Ink Reflux

Do you ever feel like you must act a certain way? Maybe you think about how you’re acting sometimes, and realize you do it most of the day. “They” say it’s important to keep plans when you’re feeling bad. I feel as though I’m speaking one sentence while thinking another. Small-talking while I choke down a thick, gelatinous black ink that won’t stop rising up my throat. Another gross bodily function to pretend isn’t happening. Doesn’t it correlate with our words? We hide our humanity to make ourselves tolerable to other humans. Smile when I’m frowning. “Good, how are you?” when I’m thinking death might be easier than telling my loved ones to just give up on me. Sometimes it feels the greatest apology would be to get rid of myself. I feel poison, but some people still want to keep consuming me. Does alcohol feel sad when you binge on it and then try to cheat your way out of a hangover? I tell you I’m bad, you say I’m good and fun. But when it’s time to pay my toll you just accept it and forget it next time you decide to associate with me.

Eventually most people get better. They distance themselves or leave. They pick the parts of me they want to keep. The part of me that congratulates them or lifts them up or tells them jokes. The part of me that feels inferior and will always look at them as something greater unless they’re currently pissing me off. Because I really do want you all to feel empowered to live your lives authentically. With or without me. They may keep the parts of me that serve as a means to make them feel better about their appearance, career, their level of knowledge, their desirability, their popularity or their lack of friends. And when I write shit like this, their better judgment. Maybe they keep me around to give a fuck, so they can say things to see a look of pain flash over my face before I say something supportive. So they can do things and know that it hits my heart like a knife. And when I care it’s really there. I try to pull it out of me but I wake up with a shortness of breath and a tightness in my chest when I lose someone. I frantically apologize and try to make it better. I ruin it again. Remember that scene in Edward Scissorhands where he saves the kid from getting hit by a car but then frantically tears him up with his hands trying to comfort him? I do sometimes feel like fleeing back to my old black castle, far from the colorful cookie-cutter town. Because the damage is more important than the intention. It’s tangible. And you can see the pattern.

I’ve ruined friendships since I was a kid. My mom once yelled at me for playing in her room with our neighbors. She said we could never do that again. I told my neighbors we couldn’t be friends. Was I evil at 7? I like to think I just didn’t know better, but maybe I already had a knack for making things worse. Keeping things black or white because I couldn’t process grey, couldn’t emotionally handle it. Maybe in my mind, setting boundaries was the same as being useless as a friend.

My next best friend was spending the night, and started playing with my sister and I felt excluded. She and my sister were staying up playing NeoPets into the night and I wanted to go to sleep on the foldout couch with my friend and make weird faces in the dark and talk about random stuff. My friend wanted to stay up with my sister. I woke up my mom and told her, and my mom yelled at them. I was embarrassed but grateful my mom stood up for me, or so I thought. That friend never came over again. This was the Summer before 6th grade. My mom helped me make my friend an apology gift. A little paper box that had once held my mom’s business cards, I cut up pictures of me and my friend and glued them around the box. My mom gave me a necklace with a gold-dipped seashell on the end. My mom didn’t like jewelry much, and my friend seemed to like the beach. Her mom took us there a few times, at least. I’m sure I packed in a long apology note written in a sparkly Jelly Roll pen. I had a new acquaintance deliver the gift to my old best friend since they were in a class together. My new acquaintance said that my friend made a scene and threw it all away in front of everyone. I remember walking up to my old friend at some point either before or after this at middle school. I was alone and she had a new friend on each side. The message was clear. I wasn’t going to fit the mold of the new friend group she had in mind.

As a teen I was used by friends. A house where there were no rules and adults never checked on us. A ride to a gas station or drug dealer’s house if “we” needed it. A friend to make fun of and exclude when you weren’t feeling as popular or desirable as you wanted to. A friend whose stepdad had drugs to sell them. Those “friends” always needed to be high or have access to dick to have a good time. My company was never enough. I cut off contact with Friend B when Friend A told me that friend B molested her own nephew when Friend A was spending the night. I kept Friend A around until my mid-twenties when she betrayed me for about the 20th time and I realized, I was her life-line and she was the fucking disaster waiting to strike any time I built some semblance of a life. Who knew if what she said about Friend B was even true.

As I got older I found some friends that seemed to actually have things in common with me. They were funny and creative and loved music the way that I did. I lived my life in a free-love type way back then and made myself more enemies. The mirage of fitting in was just that, an illusion. There never was a real place for me. I was always too sad, too fat, too slutty. I’m sure there’s more I did wrong. I felt aloof. I felt hungry. I felt seen for the first time in so many ways. I tried to take it all in. I hurt people in my ambitions for love and attention.

I spent the next 5 years or so weaving in and out of old close friendships and chasing men who mostly didn’t want me. I would meet people I admired and be way too scared to approach them or be near them. They were too smart, too composed, always too “something”.

I learned that people didn’t like the artistic and reckless version of me. I became too ashamed to ever talk about my belief in myself again. That was for perfectly talented people who deserved it. Or, that was for naive people. That was for people who spend their life dreaming and amounting to nothing. I “got my shit together”. I learned to hide things. I changed my goals to boring and safe.

My next group of friends was inherited and I realized the first thing people wanted to know was what I went to school for and where, or what advanced literature did I want to discuss over craft beers? I spent about a year or two shutting the fuck up in case somebody found out how dumb and uneducated I was/am. Slowly I discovered there were a few people in the group who didn’t care or accidentally overlooked my shortcomings, liked artsy things and dancing and getting drunk and embarrassing. These are my favorites.

I still feel there’s a part of me that isn’t home anywhere. A part of me that comes out in the worst ways at the worst times. I feel like flashes of my worst thoughts, the ones that scare me, are the first I let out at people when I lose control. I don’t try too hard to justify them because that could reveal even more of my struggles or flaws. I just pretend they never happened. People want to read into the way you explain things or don’t. Some people just accept you either way, knowing that the ghouls in your mind get along with some of theirs. Most people won’t say it out loud or validate you about that, they’ll share a few years later that they related to that thing you posted. That thing that you thought nobody read and since writing is the way you try to express yourself, made you feel rejected and lonely again. I guess I hoped that if I shared only neutral or positive thoughts with people that I would suddenly be likable or popular. But it remains that I usually have 2-3 people willing to tolerate my shit, or maybe they really do understand.

It’s taken me until 30 to realize I can’t swing back into a special place with people of the past. It might feel like it for a day or a week. Other people move on. I can’t expect that I can just suddenly be important and vulnerable with old friends. This took far too long to click with me, I was always expecting more from people than I deserved. It was more painful not seeing that there was something between enemies and best friends, and wondering why I couldn’t get the latter to click into place like it used to. It’s liberating to know we can just exist in mutual support and peace.

I see those quotes that say the beautiful souls are the ones that are broken and choose to be soft instead. I became bitter and hard. Those quotes make me feel fucking useless.

#lonely #bitter #dark

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winstonhcomedy · 6 years ago

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HDWDLN? 1/5-1/7 “Weekend Host Battle and A Witch Joke”

OOOOO DOGGY DO I HAVE A BLOG POST FOR YOU! I’m going to go over the last episode of Host Battle we did, and the Southern open mic last night. Both super fun nights, and full of silly comedy times.

1/5

I don’t think I’ve ever been as excited for a Host Battle as I was this one. They gave us a Saturday night instead of a Wednesday (which is huge) and I had an entire month to advertise.

I went every route I could think of to try and advertise this. I posted on IG constantly, I shared and invited everyone I could think of on FB, I gave away some free tickets, and I made a post on Reddit (which surprisingly got a lot of traffic) So I was extremely hopeful this would have a great turnout.

I got to the show early and started to set everything up at The Southern. I set up my camcorder in the back. I was also excited to set up my new GoPro. I put it on the stage to capture us all from a pretty awesome angle.

Host Battle is an amazing show. It is essentially Chris Alan and I on stage doing a live writing session with a series of comics. It is super similar to Bumping Mics on Netflix (we came first. In March we will be celebrating our two year anniversary of doing Host Battle). This month we had a pretty fire lineup that included (John Rademacher, Patrick Buhse, Alex Castagne, Kristina Montouri, Rick Williams, David Luzader, and Paige Campbell).

We get ready to go out on stage and Paige tells me, “dude it is absolutely packed out there.” I am usually nervous that the turnout will be shit, but this time I’m nervous because I don’t want to disappoint a paying crowd.

Chris and I walk out there and it is absolutely packed. This is definitely the most we’ve ever had here for a local comedy show. In this instant I just keep thinking about how it seems like each show is getting better and better. How they continue to grow, and how it seems like we are actually building an audience.

Then we start it off. Chris and I riff back and forth about our weeks, and Christmas. We explain the rules of the show and try to get them ready for how weird and offensive this show is going to be. We finally start getting big laughs when I talk about teaching. I tried out this new bit about losing control of my classroom, and how I had to block one of my student on youtube because they bullied me.

After we do this we bring Johnny Rad on stage. He riffs about going on a cruise and drinking. He also jokes about how he only smoked weed because his younger sister made him. So Chris and I joke about how lame he is etc. He has a really good guest spot and sets the tone for the show.

Up next is Patrick Buhse. He was super nervous about the show because another comic (Kenn Edwards) told him it was the worst experience of his life. Thankfully after a few minutes on stage he got that this isn’t a horrible show, and that no one is out to get you. We just want to bust balls and write. Buhse’s biggest hit was we all ended up talking about dwarf dicks. He even called his gf to ask her about it.

Alex Castagne showed up to the show so I gave him a guest spot. He did really well. Alex, Chris, and I have great chemistry since we are such good friends. We are really starting to get more offensive. We had a female counselor for UVA students heckle us because we were mocking the students. So we fired back at her and took control of the show. The best part of Alex’s set is when he told the story about how he had recently found a dildo in his mom’s closet.

Then Kristina Montouri came up and she also did not disappoint. She seemed really comfortable just opening up and being weird. She talked about how she tried to get her husband to cheat on her, how she likes to get banged, and how much she enjoys anal. She had one of the best sets of the night. Some truly huge laughs.

Rick Williams was next. He’s a good friend and newer comic. He actually tried out some new bits which was awesome. He made fun of Disney movies, and we riffed on race with Chris. He even ended up getting a huge punch for a joke he’s been trying to work on for months.

This is the true beauty of Host Battle. It’s great because it takes some of the fear out of bombing. There are three comics on stage and everyone is working their ass off to get laughs. The best part is you can work out jokes that would seem impossible to work out on your own. A lot of comics have found their closer out by doing our show. There’s just a lot of freedom, and comfort with this show. I’m super proud of where it is.

After him we had David Luzader. He talked about a bad Christmas gift he got and then got some big laughs talking about a horrible date he went on while he was in Arizona for Christmas. It was truly one of the worst dating stories I've ever heard.

Finally we had Paige. Paige tried out some new jokes about getting in trouble with the law, and just riffed away. I always like closing with Paige, because he is not afraid to go for it, and be weird and offensive. This is always a great way to close.

So we finish up the show and thank everyone. Afterwards people are coming up to us and saying how much they enjoyed it and how they’d definitely be back. This happens after a lot of our shows, but this is definitely the most I’ve seen it happen. The best part is a I find out we had close to 100 people there. Which absolutely blew me away. This is about 35 more than the next largest show we’ve had. I think we are onto a great thing, and we are going to continue to push it going forward. I’d give this whole show an A. From top to bottom this was the best and most consistent Host Battle we have had. For the first time it feels like we truly have the formula figured out.

1/7

I was back at The Southern for the open mic last night. I got there early because Paige needed to film my scenes for a sketch he is doing. I am super excited to see how it turns out. I think it’s going to be incredibly silly and weird.

We had an ok sized crowd. Mainly because this new coming brought a bunch of people out. It was a pretty low-key night. Not a ton of comics, but a high percentage of newbies.

The crowd seemed pretty timid for most of the night. They were into the show but they never had insane energy. You really had to work for it, and honestly after having a run of pretty good shows I was ready to really work out some new shit.

I went up and did about 15 minutes of super new stuff. It went pretty well. I definitely had one of the better sets. I wasn’t killing but pretty much everything I tried had something that worked in it. I hashed out a story about my students I tried at Host Battle, and a new idea about a meeting we had at work that day. The best part came from a line I had written down about knowing a lot of witches on fb. It got a chuckle, but a guy told me his ex wife was a witch and I was able to turn that into something hilarious. I was glad Chris made me try new shit, because I got a brand new dope bit from it. I’d give my set a B-

Everyone else did ok. The new comics didn’t do amazing, but they were all good sports and they seem like they want to keep doing it. Which is good. You always need a new influx of comics. It keeps the shows fresh when people drop out, or get tired of seeing the same stuff. Plus it is always nice to see development in new comics.

Paige had a super fun set at the end. We made him work out this new bit that he was scared to do because of how personal it is. But we bullied him into doing it and honestly I think it’s going to end up being one of his best jokes. All in all an amazing night for comedy.

I AM OFFICIALLY CAUGHT UP BAYBEES!!!

I did it finally. I promise these will be shorter, and up to date from now on (unless they don’t then I’m sorry).

I love you all and your support so much. Come check me out at Pro re Nata in Crozet Thursday at 8 (hosting an amazing show featuring Chris Alan running his hour), Cozzy’s in Newport News this Fri/Sat at 8 (hosting) and then Hof Garden in Richmond this Sunday at 7 (closing out this showcase).

xoxoxo love you laydees

#comedy #jokes #standup #gameshow #funny #hilarious #improv #roast #host battle

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artificialqueens · 8 years ago

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Read My Mind (Trixya) Chapter 2 - Candy For Children

A/N: Here’s chapter 2! I’m not sure how I feel about it, but I hope you enjoy it! I now have the skeleton of the next few chapters figured out so hopefully I should be updating regularly. Thank you to the person who pointed out my mistakes with the powers! I had just been going off the definitions on the AHS wiki. I will probably keep using the same terms I used in the first chapter for continuities sake, but I really to appreciate it. Happy reading!

Summary: Trixie is a clairvoyant witch, sent to study at Mrs. Charles’s Academy for Gifted Girls, where she meets another young witch named Katya, and sparks fly (no pun intended).

Katya yawned. She tried to pay attention to what Ms. Edwards was saying but instead she yawned again. She hadn’t slept well the night before, and was exhausted. She was sure that on any other day she would be interested in whatever mix of herbs they were putting together to make… what was it, an elixir of truth or something? Well whatever it was Katya was hard pressed to pay attention to it. All she could do was sit at her desk next to Alaska and doodle in her notebook.

She looked over to where Trixie was diligently taking notes. It was always adorable to see new girls so fascinated by it all when they first arrived. Katya had been like that. They all had. Well except maybe Violet. Violet was a nice girl, but she had a cold demeanor and little enthusiasm for anything that life threw her way. Not that anyone could blame her, life had thrown her some shit.

Katya smiled when Trixie sneezed after smelling one of the ingredients Ms. Edwards handed to her. She was cute. And definitely Katya’s type. Blond with blue eyes, large soft lips, and curves that made a girl feel dizzy to look at. All wrapped up in a big pink bow. And the two definitely had chemistry, there had been something there the night before in the other girls room. If Katya hadn’t been talking to Jamie again recently, she would have done more than flirt with the life sized barbie, she would have pursued her in earnest.

But as it was, she had been talking with Jamie again, and Katya had a feeling that this time things would work out.

“Alright girls, we’ll leave these to sit overnight, and in the morning we will try them out. You’re free for the day.” Ms. Edwards dismissed the class. Pearl and Violet were the first one’s out the door, Pearl talking animatedly and walking backwards in front of Violet, who had the whisper of a smile on her face. Next came Max, Fame, and Courtney, who walked in a clump whispering excitedly to each other. As they walked past Katya and Alaska’s table they looked at Katya and giggled.

She looked at Alaska in confusion, who just shrugged and left the room. “What the hell was that about?” Katya asked walking over to the the table where Kim and Trixie were cleaning up their mess.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, just gossip” Kim said looking quickly between Trixie and Katya.

That only served to confuse Katya more, “What gossip could they possibly have about me?” she asked.

“It’s Max.” Naomi said, walking over and resting against the table between Trixie and Kim, “She’s been telling everyone that when she shook hands with Trixie last night she saw the two of you bumping uglies.”

Trixie blushed and didn’t say anything, so Katya jumped in and saved them all mere seconds before an awkward silence, “Didn’t anyone ever tell Max that no one likes a peeping Tammy?”

“You know she can’t help it Kat” replied Naomi, twisting her long silky hair into a bun on the top of her head and sticking one of Kim’s pencils in it to keep it secure.

“Um,” Trixie said finally speaking up, “I’m not a lesbian though?”

Naomi laughed, “Not even a spaghetti lesbian? Straight until hot and wet?”

“Ugh” Katya rolled her eyes, “I hate that term, that’s just called being bisexual.”

“Don’t worry Trixie,” Kim said, “She’s probably just exaggerating what she saw. She’s been known to do that. She’s super sweet, but she’s a little dramatic. She got her accent from living in Newcastle for a year when she was 12.”

Trixie shook her head and laughed, “I’m not worried. Just, confused is all.”

The room was quiet again, except for the sound of Adore’s heavy boots against the hardwood floors as she left.

“Anyway” Naomi said smiling and resting her head in her hands coyly, “I have a tinder date in an hour, and I would love it if my best friend and make up god Kim would help me get ready?” She began to bat her eyelashes comically and Kim rolled her eyes.

“I’ll see what I can do.” she laughed, and turned to Trixie, “I’ll see you at dinner!” They hugged and then she and naomi left the classroom.

Katya watched them leave and then whipped back around to look at Trixie grinning manically, “So we still on to hang out?”

“Of course!” Trixie smiled, “Let me take this stuff to my room and then we can do whatever.”

She began walking and Katya followed after her.

“I can just pop it over there for you.” Katya smiled and reached out for Trixie’s notebook making grabby hands at it.

Trixie laughed, “No thank you. I’ve decided that I’m making my room an official ‘no transmutation’ zone. I don’t even like jump scares in movies, I don’t need them in real life.”

Katya shook her head and tutted her tongue, “Whatever you say Tracy. Your loss.”

The two girls began to walk toward Trixie’s room making chit chat along the way.

Thirty minutes later as they were walking out of the front door and into the bright sunlight Trixie asked, “So what do two magically inclined girls do for fun in this town?” Things had taken a little longer than expected, because once the girl had gotten to her room she decided to freshen up her makeup and change into some clothes that were more appropriate for the weather.

Katya grinned and put on her large tortoiseshell sunglasses “I have a few ideas!”

Katya’s idea had been for them to go see a movie at the small independent theater in town. It was a cute place with no more than thirty seats and old fashioned looking bags to serve the popcorn in. The theater had been playing one of Katya’s favorite movies: “To Wong Foo: Thanks for Everything Julie Newmar” and she had been wanting to go for a while, so this had worked out perfectly. The girls had gotten there early and were basically alone in the theater so they talked until the movie started. They shared their favorite movies (Katya’s was ‘Contact’, of course, and Trixie’s was ‘When Harry met Sally’), and other little things about themselves.

“I think in a past life I was a drag queen.” Katya said smiling as they walked out of the theater. She had always liked the moment you stepped back into the real world after a movie, it made her head spin in a delicious little way that she could appreciate.

“Same!” Trixie smiled and crumpled up her empty popcorn bag.

“Oh honey, with that make up? You’re a drag queen in this life.” Katya cackled and then dodged when Trixie tried to hit her with the balled up bag. When the Barbie began to chase her Katya ran away but was quickly caught and her side was attacked mercilessly..

“Дядя!” Katya shrieked, “дядя!”

“What?” Trixie asked, and kept tickling the other girl.

“Uncle!” Katya yelled, gasping for breath through giggles.

“Oh!” She said, and stopped and took a step back. Katya doubled over onto the ground in an exaggerated coughing fit, and then slumped backwards putting her arm over her forehead and spoke in one of her favorite voices “Go on without me Barbra. The devil has come to take me away from this place.”

“Shut up.” Trixie laughed, pulling her up to her feet, and then to an ice cream shop a few yards away.

Later, after Katya had dragged them out of ice cream shop, the two girls were walking alongside the train tracks eating their ice cream. Katya’s was peanut butter chocolate in a cup, and Trixie was eating bubblegum in a cone (Katya got the feeling that Trixie had mainly gotten the flavor to go along with her aesthetic, because every time the other girl licked her ice cream she wrinkled her nose a little bit at the flavor). Katya took bites out of her’s with the sample spoon giddily, ignoring the regular spoon resting along side her ice cream in the cardboard cup.

“So did you speak russian back there?” Trixie asked suddenly. They had been walking in companionable silence for the past few minutes. Katya had been surprised at how quickly and easily they had become comfortable with each other. Usually people weren’t really sure what to think about her when they first met her, but Trixie seemed to get her almost immediately.

“Yeah!” Katya smiled, “My family is russian. My grandmother moved here when she was 25, 8 months pregnant and not speaking a word of english. She raised me and my younger sister when my mom died. She wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if we couldn’t speak the mother tongue.” Katya smiled when she thought about her babushka. Then she frowned, “She passed away a few months ago.”

“I’m so sorry.” Trixie said, and, to Katya’s surprise, took her hand, stroking her thumb up and down the back of it comfortingly. She squeezed back, enjoying the way their hands fit together.

“Don’t be,” Katya laughed a little, “she was a tough bitch, she always said she wouldn’t die until she was damn good and ready. So she must have been ready. But-” Katya stopped herself.

“But?” Trixie asked.

Katya sighed, their first time hanging out and she was about to air all her dirty laundry, super smooth.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Trixie added quickly, “I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No no, you didn’t. It’s just- Now that my grandma is gone, my little sister has to go live with our Aunt. I keep getting these letters, not emails, letters, because my aunt won’t let her near a computer. It’s just her telling how bad it is, about how mean our uncle is, how much she hates it. I feel like I’ve abandoned her.”

“I’m so sorry Katya.” Trixie said, her eyebrows knitted up in concern.

“It’s fine.” Katya said a little louder than she intended, pulling her hand out of Trixie’s to wipe at her face, she hadn’t cried, but she needed to do something to dispel the energy that had been created by their conversation. “I’ve been working at the pawn shop to try and save up money for a plane ticket for her out here. That’s why I was late yesterday, no one knows I’m working there except Alaska. She won’t be able to stay at the academy until she starts manifesting her powers, but that shouldn’t be too long now. I can get another job and help her to pay for a small place until she does.”

There was silence and Trixie stopped walking.

“What?” Katya asked looking at the other girl.

Trixie was staring at her, kind eyes crinkled in a soft smile, “Nothing, you’re just a really good sister. A good person. I wish I’d had someone like you back in Milwaukee”

“Want to talk about it?” Katya asked, not sure if it was the right thing to do. It was the least she could do though, after Trixie had listened to her sob story.

Trixie smiled, but it didn’t really meet her eyes, “Eh, there’s not much to talk about. My step dad didn’t like me, and had super fun ways of showing it, and my mom didn’t really care.” She kicked a pebble with one of her white pumps and then turned to look Katya in the eyes, her big blue eyes filled with emotion, “I was worried about coming here you know. But I think it’s gonna be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” She smiled.

Katya smiled back and then cocked her head to the side, “This is very ‘Stand By Me.’”

“How so?” Trixie laughed, bringing the energy back to a lighter note.

“A couple of youths bearing their souls walking down a dusty train track.”

“I’m not sure I’d call us youths. I’m 20, and you’re so old you look about ready for the crypt, so-”

“You rotted whore!” Katya laughed. “Fine, this is very much like the movie Contact in that-”

Trixie cut her off with a loud exaggerated groan, “Katya I have known you less than two full days, and I have already had it up to here with you referencing that movie.” she moved her hand high above her head as she spoke.

“That’s just because you haven’t seen it.”

“Maybe so, maybe so, but I doubt it.”

They laughed and talked and walked a bit more. It was beginning to get dark when they got to a part of the track Katya was very familiar with. Off to the side was a train car that had fallen off the tracks a few years ago. Katya used to go there with Jamie when they were still together since she couldn’t bring her back to the academy.

“Who’s Jamie?” Trixie asked suddenly as they turned around and began walking home.

This caught Katya off guard, and it took her a second to realize that the other girl had heard her thinking.

“Can you not do that?” She asked, mostly joking.

Trixie frowned apologetically, “No, sorry.”

Katya sighed, “She’s my ex.” Trixie watched her as she picked up a rock with her mind and let it swing back in forth in front of her before letting it fall again. “We dated for a year. Got along like a house on fire. But I had secrets, and she didn’t like that. I couldn’t really tell her what goes on at the Academy, because that’s a major no no, but she thought I just didn’t trust her. It was pretty messy.”

“I’m sorry” Trixie said with a frown.

“Don’t be,” Katya smiled, “I ran into her recently, and we’ve been talking, I think things are going better this time. I really like her you know? And- You can’t tell anyone this alright?”

Trixie held out her pinky and smiled, “Promise.”

Katya cackled, but took her pinky in her own, “You’re a fucking child.”

“Whatever bitch!” Trixie screamed, “Spill unto me your deep dark demented secret.”

Katya laughed but acquiesced, “I showed her my powers.” At Trixie’s worried and surprised look Katya added, “That’s something I had never thought I’d do, but I really trust her Trix. I don’t believe in all that soul mate mumbo jumbo, but I think we’re right together, and I don’t think that happens often.”

Trixie smiled gently, “I won’t tell, I think that’s really sweet. Although I will say it’s a bit hypocritical of you to call anything mumbo jumbo when you regularly light things on fire with your mind, and scatter bones for good luck.”

Katya laughed, “Don’t knock it till you try it Barbie. You know what they say, ‘bones scattered, for a life that mattered, bones encased, and your life is a waste.”

Trixie stopped walking and looked at Katya a little stunned, “Did you just come up with that?”

“I did! I did!” Katya wheezed and flapped her hands around.

“I wish you hadn’t!” Trixie chuckled and shook her head and began walking again.

Katya screeched with laughter and Trixie soon joined in. The rest of their walk home was filled with laughter and playful insults.

–

To say that the day hadn’t gone how Trixie expected would be an understatement. She had expected some fun but slightly forced chit chat, get to know you small talk type stuff. Not tragic backstory time. She couldn’t say she was disappointed though. She liked Katya a lot, and was glad to have someone she could call a friend at the Academy. She had Kim of course, but that was different. She and Kim were in a sort of limbo between knowing each other and not knowing each other. A lot can change in 9 years, and neither of them were the same person they were when they were 11.

She smiled at something funny Katya said as they walked up to the large white academy building. It was somehow less intimidating now that she knew what it was like on the inside. As they stepped up to the gate, a taxi pulled up to the curb and a beautiful middle aged woman with white blond hair stepped out. As soon as Katya noticed her she stood up straighter, and stopped walking. Trixie followed suit, not really knowing why, but getting the feeling she was supposed to.

The woman was elegant, and poised. She wore her hair in a tight french twist, and had a rich mauve lipstick painted on her round lips. Her clothes fit tight to her body, but screamed sophistication, with their rich jewel tones. She held what was either a jacket or cape in one hand and a vintage louis vuitton suitcase in the other. She walked up to the two girls and put her suitcase down on the sidewalk. Smiling, she took off her sunglasses and turned her beautiful pale green eyes onto Katya.

“Miss Zamolodchikova.” The woman smiled.

Katya straightened up even more and smiled brightly, “Hello Ms. Michaels. How was Paris?”

“It was lovely thank you for asking, but I must admit I’m glad to be back.” She suddenly leaned down and picked up her suitcase again, “Now would you do me a favor and take this up to my room for me? I want to have a chat with our new sister.”

Trixie watched as Katya grinned, “Of course!” She took the suitcase from the woman and then turned to Trixie, “I had a lot of fun! I’ll see you at dinner?”

“I assume so!” Trixie laughed weakly, a little unsure of what was going on. Katya smiled, and then turned and walked through the gate and then the front door, leaving Trixie stranded with this highly intimidating woman.

Green eyes suddenly turned to her, “Miss Mattel do you know the last time we had a clairvoyant witch living at the academy?” She asked, and then began to walk through the gate. Trixie quickly followed after her.

“Um, no?”

“Nearly 20 years ago,” She replied as they stepped through the front door, and turned to enter an office that Trixie had noticed in passing, but had paid little mind to until this moment, “A short while before I took over as supreme.” At this point the witch walked around to a large mahogany desk that sat at the center of the room and took a seat, then gestured for Trixie to sit across from her.

The room was painted a crisp white, like the rest of the Academy was, but was smartly decorated in warm woods and leathers, and oil paintings of other sophisticated looking women. Featured most prominently, right behind the desk was a painting of a beautiful dark skinned woman, with tall blond hair. She was statuesque and graceful, and seemed to command power and respect, even in painting form. Beneath the painting was a small golden plaque that read, ‘Founder & Supreme: Rupaul Charles.’

“What I’m trying to say Miss Mattel” Ms. Michaels continued, “Is that the gift that you and I share, is not one that this academy sees often. And it’s one that I believe needs to be nurtured.”

Trixie tore her attention away from the portrait behind the desk, “You and I? You’re clairvoyant too?”

“I am. And during my time at the academy, I was the only girl to have that gift. No one taught me how to deal with it, or how to use it to my advantage. No one showed me how it made me special.”

Trixie nodded, still not entirely understanding, but feeling that what was happening was important.

“I want to teach you Trixie. I know how overwhelming the voices can be. I want to help you learn how to control your gift. To only hear them when you need to, or when you want to.”

Trixie’s breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t known there even was a way to control her clairvoyance. She had resigned herself to a life of indefinite din. She was overjoyed to know there was another way.

“Here’s what I’m proposing.” Ms. Michaels said, “Two times a week, for two hours before dinner you and I will meet in this office and work. We will meet until I believe that you don’t need to any more. In this room and in this room only I will call you Trixie, and you may call me Chad. For those four hours a week, we will be peers, and I will help you develop into the powerful witch I am sure you’re destined to become.”

‘Chad’ stuck her hand out and Trixie heard her voice silky voice in her head ask Deal?

Trixie smiled and took her hand in her own, Deal. She thought back.

#katya zamolodchikova #trixie mattel #kim chi #naomi smalls #chad michaels #trixya #au #tw language #candy for children #rpdr fanfiction #submission #witch au #ahs coven au #lesbian au #read my mind

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canardroublard · 8 years ago

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Poco a poco

Fandom: Rogue One (featuring characters from the OT)

Pairings: Jyn/Cassian, background Chirrut/Baze and Han/Leia

Two-shot, first chapter: 8000 words. Second chapter is written and will be posted early next week.

ao3

University/Classical music AU. No wait, classical music isn’t that scary, come back! No knowledge of classical music is required to read, I promise. Slow burn UST, humour, and other good stuff are contained within.

Poco a poco (It.). By degrees; lit. little by little; as in, Rall. poco a poco.

The Student's Pronouncing Musical Dictionary, by Leon Aubry

Jyn, in her defense, is not exactly late for class.

She's just not very early. Music theory doesn't technically start for another (damn it she keeps forgetting to switch her watch to this new time zone which means it's off by...) three minutes. Three minutes to get to Theory 2100. Or at least to get to the room where she thinks Theory 2100 is being held. The Yavin School of Performing Arts had seemed much easier to navigate when she'd been on the new students tour yesterday. Also, who designed this school with so many bloody stairs? She's just rounding the corner to tackle the next set, feeling only slightly embarrassed by how much she's panting after the past three flights, when she bodily slams into someone and isn't that exactly what her day needed right now. For fuck's sake.

"Sorry, I'm late for theory," She says, hoisting herself off of the dark-haired man who is now crumpled against the wall, groaning slightly. She notices the case in his arms. "Oh shit, your violin -"

"Viola, actually," He says with the sigh of someone who knows he should give up trying to correct people on this issue but keeps on doing so out of pure bloody-mindedness. Grabbing her proffered hand to pull himself back up (wow, he's pretty tall), he continues. "It's fine. Theory 2100?"

"Yeah."

"You're going the wrong way. It's down a floor," He seems to take her in for the first time, frowning down at her slightly. "I'm going there now, you can follow me." She's only a teeny tiny bit distracted by the way his hair flops over his forehead when he turns away to start down the stairs.

"So, what are you?" He asks.

"Piano," Jyn says, falling into step beside him. The man's head bobs, nodding to himself as if she's just confirmed a hunch.

"No instrument with you, and most vocalists aren't so," He makes a circling gesture with the hand not holding his viola case, searching for a word. "Scrawny."

"Um, thanks?" Scrawny? Fortunately she's spared the pressure of further response when he pushes open a door and gestures brusquely for her to go in first. The small lecture hall is mostly full, with about thirty students sprawled in their seats, pulling tiredly at their Starbucks cups. 9 AM classes are hell. Jyn slides into the nearest available seat at the back, but her new acquaintance begins walking down to the front of the room.

"Ah, Mr. Andor," Says the professor in a tone of such condescension that Jyn can already definitively state that she does not like him. "Glad you could finally join us."

"Sorry Professor Draven," the man, whose name is apparently Mr. Andor, says. "Professor Îmwe wanted to discuss my repertoire for this year before classes started, and I had to help-" He stops then and turns, blinking, back to where Jyn has tried to settle in as inconspicuously as possible, staring up at her as if he's finally realized that he was too busy calling her scrawny to actually get her name (or give his, for that matter) like a polite human being. Before she can put him out of his misery, Draven interrupts.

"You have decided to grace us with your presence after all, Jyn Erso," The man scoffs. She wants to punch him in the dick. "I wasn't sure whether to trust the rumours." Before she can let loose a few choice words which would certainly have gotten her expelled on her very first day here, Draven's face wrinkles into a bulldoggish scowl.

"Both of you, take a syllabus. Don't be late again." He turns back to the board. "As I was just explaining to the students who showed up on time, this class will be focusing on musical analysis."

Goddammit.

Finding Bodhi in the canteen after class is such a relief that Jyn nearly cries. He gives her a bright (Bodhi is always so bright) smile and waves her over.

"Everyone keeps whispering and staring at me," She says, "I half expect someone to yell 'Pay five p. to see Jyn Erso, former child prodigy!' like I'm a circus freak."

Bodhi's face sinks. "Yeah, I know. Sorry. I didn't tell anyone, but one of the professors must have let it slip last week."

"Probably Draven. He's odious," She says and Bodhi has the nerve to snort at her.

"I thought you might not like him," He replies, gesturing around the dank, concrete room with his fork. "Most people don't."

"We're spending the entire semester just doing analysis! I hate analysis," Bodhi actually smiles at her outrage. She liked him so much better when they were young and he was scared of her because she was the daughter of Galen Erso, world famous violinist.

"Draven's tough. But he knows his stuff and he wants everyone to succeed," Chewing thoughtfully, he adds, "Even if he doesn't show it."

Bodhi's ability to see the good in everyone is positively infuriating sometimes. He is also patient, to his credit, and lets her launch into a long rant, nodding and making appropriate noises of sympathy. She loves this about him. When she begins to run out of steam he prods her to eat. "You'll need to keep your strength up. You've got your private lesson after this, right?"

"Yes, assuming I don't get lost trying to get to this one too."

Bodhi's assurances that Professor Malbus is much more understanding are a small comfort. "He's okay, you'll be fine. How'd you find theory?"

"Some violist. Andor. I bumped into him on the way to class." She doesn't need to tell Bodhi the details of how literal the bumping was.

"Oh, so you've met Cassian?"

"Yep. He called me scrawny. Nice guy."

Bodhi just shakes his head. Her phone chirps.

Incoming call from JYN DON'T ANSWER THIS

She thumbs the decline call button while Bodhi continues.

"He is nice, Jyn. And you are scrawny."

She may not know anyone at Bodhi's start of semester party, but there's lots of beer and when you really think about it, beer can be a pretty good friend so it's really almost the same thing as actually knowing people. And yeah, so maybe she's lurking in the corner like a total loser, but at least she's managed to be the only woman in the room who's successfully avoided being hit on by God's Gift to Music, Han Solo. Why are all the trumpet players she knows such overconfident tossers?

The tiny flat is packed with music students celebrating the fact that classes inexplicably began on a Friday this year. She scans the room to see if Bodhi is free enough that she can go harass him in lieu of meeting new people. Bodhi, who is just sickeningly nice sometimes, well, all the time, has instead taken pity on the blond guy who was in her tour group with his twin sister. Luke something? All she remembers is that he's an oboist and his sister plays horn, and Jyn remembers the latter fact only because the woman's twisty side-bun hairdo looks like she has two French horns (minus the bells) stuck onto her head. It's nice when people make things easy to remember.

"You are the Jyn Erso," Says a voice unnervingly close to her ear. She jumps slightly and glances around to discover a towering blond man who is staring owlishly at her. Why does she always attract the weirdos at parties?

"You are the reason Cassian was late for Theory 2100."

Apparently she's meant to say something now? "Yeah. I mean, he was late anyways," She corrects, feeling suddenly defensive. This guy just keeps staring at her like she's some exotic species of insect that he might want to pin to a board and study if he were motivated enough to do so, but he can't be bothered so he's about to squash her instead out of vaguely malicious indifference and what the fuck is with the male students of this school? God.

"No, he was not," He says primly. Good lord, she's not even going to make it through her first day here without starting a fight. Bodhi won't be surprised. "Cassian is a conscientious student. If you had not assaulted him and then solicited his assistance, he would not have been late."

Jyn wonders if she could jump high enough from a standstill to just start throttling him now or if she'd have to ask him to crouch down first.

"Hey, listen, you knob, he said-"

"Kay, where have you been?" A hand parts the wall of people boxing in her corner and of course it's Cassian because the universe hates her and will not let her alone long enough to get properly soused while sulking in a corner like the well-adjusted adult that she is.

"I have been getting to know" (Oh, that's what this is?) "Jyn Erso, the women whom you spent at least thirty percent of our lunch break talking about."

Cassian actually flushes at that. She can see it start at his cheeks and disappear into the neck of his t-shirt and she cannot contain the grin that overtakes her while he tries to verbally dodge that particularly interesting pronouncement.

"I wasn't - it wasn't that much!" He clears his throat slightly. "Kay, Threepio wants to talk to you about tone clusters. He's thinking of using them in his next piece, the one he's writing for his recital." And thank God, that actually works, sending Kay off grousing about how he is about to save Threepio from making a horrible mistake. "Sorry about him," Cassian says. "He means well. He's John Kay, by the way. Everyone just calls him Kay though."

"He's studying composition?"

"Yes."

"Well, that explains," She uses her free hand to indicate broadly the direction in which Kay had just left, "Everything. Does no-one around here remember how to introduce themselves?" She grumbles and is rewarded when Cassian ducks his head awkwardly.

"Han seems to have it figured out,"' He says, gesturing over to where the lanky man is indeed making the acquaintance of yet another pretty girl. She can't tell for certain from across the room but it looks like what's-her-name, Horn Buns. Luke's sister. Cassian interrupts her thoughts before she can make a definitive identification. "Should we try again?" and he's gazing down at her with kind brown eyes that peek out from under his fringe of hair (it looks so soft) and pulling her hand into his gentle, warm grasp and oh shit she is in trouble.

"Cassian Andor." He looks positively miraculous when he grins at her.

Shit shit shit.

The thing Jyn likes most about Professor Malbus, Baze, as he insists she call him, is that he is one of the few professors she's had who is able to look past what a complete disaster her life is at the moment and just focus on music. He's not one for small talk, doesn't scold her too much for being late, and has also had absolutely zero comment on her semi-famous upbringing. They just talk music and that is something she can do for days.

"The left hand in measure twenty-eight sounds much better this week," He says, squinting at her score slightly from his amusingly homey armchair. The entire office looks like it was designed by an extremely aged man who was mostly concerned with being warm enough; big armchair, throw blankets, a space heater tucked under his tiny desk. It's delightful. "You need to get a better edition of the score, I don't know how you read this. It's Chopin, you know well enough to get the Paderewski."

She winces. He's got her there.

"Sorry, Baze. The Paderewski edition is quite expensive and when I bought this book..." She's not poor per se, but admitting that she couldn't scrape up enough money to buy anything better than the cheapest edition of Chopin's nocturnes still feels vaguely like she's failed at something. And no way in hell would she have crawled back to Saw or her father to ask for the money. He cuts off her excuses with a raised hand.

"It's fine." He absently nudges his round glasses up the bridge of his nose. "You can obviously read all of the notes well enough, everything sounds correct. Mind the dynamics in measure forty-five, though." His notes about her right hand fingering during the same measure are interrupted by a few knocks at the door, which is opened after Baze grunts something that sounds like "hmm?" The puckish face of the string professor, Chirrut Îmwe, pokes around the door frame.

"Am I interrupting something?"

"If I said yes, would you go away?" Baze asks with a huff.

"No, but I would feel bad about staying," Chirrut says, stepping into the room with a grin. "Hello Jyn," He greets her. She's not entirely sure what his vision is like, but after a couple weeks of Chirrut roaming the halls with his white cane, yet identifying her before she speaks, her best guess is that he has at least some functional sight. "Have you found an ensemble partner yet?"

"I'm doing the Britten cello sonata with Bodhi." She says, kicking herself as soon as she finishes the sentence because Chirrut is Bodhi's teacher for God's sake, he knows that already. "Um, but haven't found anyone for the second ensemble, no." Which is something she should probably fix. She'd been talking about teaming up with Leia but then the horn player ended up doing orchestra and also forming what Jyn understands to be an incredibly argumentative quartet with Han, Luke, and Chewie. So Leia was not an option anymore.

Chirrut smiles in Baze's direction, then, and Jyn's teacher lets out a little grunt. "Chirrut, stop pestering my students. The department does give you a budget for accompanists." It's rather sweet of Baze to stick up for her considering that her teacher had been prodding her to hurry up and find a second ensemble for at least the past week.

"Aren't they called 'collaborative pianists' now?" Chirrut says wryly. "Why hire someone when Jyn needs the ensemble credit as much as Cassian does?"

"Cassian?" She says. Oh, hell no. She's been doing a great job of avoiding Cassian and his annoyingly perfect face and the way he makes her stomach feel all fluttery whenever he smiles. Her history with personal relationships in general has been nothing short of a train wreck and romance has been no better; she cannot deal with whatever that is right now. She is barely holding her life together as it is. Conveniently enough it turns out that theory is the only class they have together this semester and with Cassian spending all of his free time with Kay it's been easy to carry on pretending that he doesn't really exist. Suits her fine.

"He's still looking for someone to do Brahms' second viola sonata," Chirrut says after a brief pause. "The piano part would suit you, Jyn." Baze is now looking at her appraisingly over the top of his glasses.

"It would be a good fit to round out your rep. Unless you have an alternate suggestion?"

Bugger. Well, looks like she's going to be dealing with whatever that is a lot more from now on.

Cassian, it would seem, is no more enthusiastic about their arrangement than she was. She's not sure whether to feel relieved or offended by that. He more or less throws the piano score at her while rushing out of theory class, not even making eye contact, and texts her a perfunctory "7 pm thurs?" to arrange a practice time. Well, fine.

She wanders down to the practice rooms at 6:45, actually early for once in her life. It's mostly thanks to Bodhi's constant nagging today, but Jyn will still happily take the credit. Leia is practicing her Mozart horn concerto in the first closet-like room on her right, fighting with a fiddly scale passage. Walking a few doors further she can hear an oboist, possibly Luke, working on some piece she can't identify. Jyn turns the hall corner and smiles when she sees that practice room sixteen, the only one with a grand piano, is unoccupied. Clearly it's her lucky day. The magnificent old Bösendorfer sits in the dark room, hunkering awkwardly in the tiny space which offers room for little else apart from the monster piano, a dented music stand into which someone has scratched the word 'butts', and a plastic chair. The piano's humidifier unit winks coyly at her from where it snuggles against the underside of the keyboard, green light confirming that the instrument is being kept happy. Jyn mentally greets the piano with a hello, old girl as she sits on the wooden bench.

Her phone chirps when she turns it back on, intending to see if Baze has emailed her about her rep for the next recital.

1 missed call from JYN DON'T ANSWER THIS

1 new voicemail

Not such a lucky day after all. Bollocks. She dismisses the notifications and deletes the voicemail before stuffing her phone back into her bag and turning back to the keyboard.

Do not think about him. Her heart is racing, readying her for a fight that she is definitely not having tonight. As she's always done, she turns to music to calm her anger.

Midway through Jyn's first set of warmup scales, Cassian bustles into the room, throwing his coat onto the chair and looking nearly as disheveled as Jyn normally feels. There are dark circles beneath his eyes and he appears even less shaven than usual. Jyn chooses to helpfully point this out to him.

"You look like shit." Okay, possibly not the best way to deal with him at the moment. No-one has ever accused Jyn of being good with people.

Cassian rolls his eyes at her and retrieves the score from his bag with what appears to be far more force than should be required. "Have you practiced at all, or are you too busy getting lost?"

That clearly does not merit a response. Learning the finer details of whatever stick has lodged itself up Cassian's behind is something she has neither the patience nor interpersonal skills to pursue. She'd almost thought that doing this piece with Cassian might not be so bad after all, but if he's going to spend the entire semester being a miserable sod she will regret this. He sighs then, flicking his gaze briefly in her direction before turning back to his viola case, tightening the bow strings with a few precise swivels of his wrist.

"Sorry," He mumbles. "It's been a long day." God, Jyn has had days like that. She can forgive him being a bit snippy with her now.

Hell, she's had years like that.

"Need an A?" She offers.

He nods before tucking his viola under his chin and beginning for the comforting ritual of tuning. After the standard twisting of knobs and frowning, he finishes by checking his work with three quick bow strokes that cause the viola's strings to harmonize in perfect pairs. Meeting her gaze, he stands, statuesque, bow-arm held slightly aloft, patiently awaiting her count in.

"One, two, three, four."

It's probably a good thing that the first line of the piano part is relatively simple because she barely prevents herself from stopping and gaping at Cassian when he starts playing. She's accompanied people before; played with not merely good but exceptionally talented musicians whom she knew through Saw; actual professionals who had made it past the ever-tightening gauntlet of critique to become some of the rare few on the planet who could be full-time performers because people would pay good money to hear them play. So the experience of sharing good music with people is nothing new. And yet...

Cassian is extraordinary. The first high note of the piece rings from his viola, delicate, bell-like, for a moment before he dips softly to the note below, then above, then does a little turn back downwards. He leans sumptuously into the next lingering note, making it warble with a rich vibrato, then deftly slips down again to coax the low D through a breathless sigh. The effect of his playing sparks through her like electricity.

She'd known he was handsome ever since their re-acquaintance at Bodhi's party, but this?

She dares to peek up at him. His eyes are half-hooded, lips pursed, caught in the thrall of the music. Her eyes are drawn to the slender fingers of his left hand, fluttering back and forth in a rapid vibrato against the finger board, balanced firmly between his thumb and the tip of his pinkie.

This is a whole different level of attraction. Her stomach swoops as he gracefully steps back up by broken octaves. In her distraction she completely botches the simple B-Flat seventh chord that had presented no problems when she was practicing this piece on her own. Crap. She fixes her gaze on the score in front of her, manages to correctly land the next set of chords, get the next couple measures out. The piece builds to a natural pause and she slows ever so slightly in anticipation, giving it the faintest hint of rubato, and to her amazement Cassian matches her tempo change perfectly, drawing out the melody with tender sensuality.

She is screwed.

Knowing that the first genuinely tricky bit of the piece is rapidly approaching for her, and messing up this solo would be nothing short of completely embarrassing, she tries her best to let Cassian's playing fade into the background and focus on her own part. She even manages to do a decent job on the sweet little left hand melody that comes next. The piece swells in crescendo to a loud forte which she punctuates with a quick staccato hit, then she launches into the short, punchy piano solo, trying to lend it as much vigour as she can muster while still hitting all of the difficult octave spans correctly. Apart from misplaying one of the big chords it goes well and she does her best to imbue the burst of piano with plenty of fire. Cassian rejoins the action with a bright, high note as she steps both of her hands towards each other with the quick set of broken chords.

They work through the first few pages of the piece with a tolerable amount of mistakes for a first run-through until they hit a section with is tricky for both instruments and simultaneously self-destruct. She bursts out laughing when they both stop, giddy and thrumming with the pure joy of music.

"You're pretty good!" Cassian says warmly. She glances up at him. He's looking down at her, grinning, eyes sparkling, viola dangling in hand. God, he's gorgeous.

"Yeah, not bad yourself!" She says in the understatement of the century.

"Hi Jyn, it's me. Look, I know you don't want to talk, but please call Saw back at least? He's worried enough about you to actually call me, that should tell you just how concerned he is. I'm going to be in town for a concert, um, sometime in December. Doing some Handel and Telemann. You know me, I always go for baroque. Like 'broke'? Yeah, that was bad, your mother never laughed at that one either. Anyways, um, so I know this is a work trip, but I would have come sooner if I thought you wanted to see me. I would love to catch up while I'm there, even just a brunch. Please, Stardust. Oh, and say hi to Bodhi for me."

She knows it's a mistake every time she does it, but she seriously needs to stop listening to her father's messages. It just makes her angry. If he had wanted to be a part of her life, he should have made an effort back when it was just the two of them, before she ended up living with Saw by default because at least he was around more often than a couple nights a week. Maybe things could be better now that he's stopped spending all of his time holed up in some studio making weird post-tonal music with Krennic, but the years of sitting at the window waiting for someone who was not coming home still rankle.

"Everything okay?" Bodhi asks, glancing at her with a creased brow from where he sits on the other couch in the student lounge. He's been chewing his pencil again, despite trying to kick the habit for good this year. When Jyn stares pointedly at the mangled piece of stationery Bodhi spits it out guiltily and starts spinning it between his long fingers instead. "What do you think about Stockhausen's process music? For my history paper?"

"Yeah, that could work. The early choral stuff?" Bodhi hums in confirmation. Jyn looks down, away from him. "My dad says hi."

She's staring at her phone and doesn't see Bodhi's reaction to this, but she can just sense him still for a moment.

"Thanks," He pauses. "How is your dad?"

Apart from being a total bastard?

"He's fine. He's coming here for a concert. In December." Jyn manages to look back up at Bodhi now and that was a mistake. He's staring at her like she's an overfull balloon that could pop at any second. Damn. "It's okay, Bodhi," Christ, he needs to stop looking at her like that. "He wants to get brunch. That'll be fun, right? You're doing it again." Bodhi retracts the pencil from his lips with a frustrated growl, tapping it against his thigh. "I'm fine, I swear. If he actually shows up I'll just say I'm too busy with exams."

"Jyn..."

"Don't. Bodhi, please, just leave it."

Bodhi just shakes his head, turning back to his note pad with what she knows is disapproval. Her dad has always been Bodhi's idol, always left him a little awestruck, wishing she could see Galen the way he does. Or maybe that's not it. Bodhi has seen what her father's inconstant presence did to her, he knows that she was all but abandoned. Surely he's not forgotten that? Maybe Bodhi is just that nice and he is honestly able to forgive people for things. Forgiveness is not one of Jyn's strengths. Despite being almost pathetically self-deceptive, she knows this much about herself.

"How're things with Cassian?"

"What do you mean, things with Cassian?" She bristles. She does not have a thing with Cassian.

"The Brahms," Bodhi says as if she's particularly soft in the head today.

"Oh, that. It's fine. Good. We're working on the second movement." She very deliberately fails to mention how she nearly died this morning because Cassian leaned over her at the piano to point out that the decrescendo in measure 109 should start forte rather than mezzo forte and his hand was resting on her shoulder like that's a completely normal thing that they do and he smelled amazing. Bodhi doesn't need to know that, right? Why would he? It's not like she's been thinking about the warmth of his hand through her shirt, the faint puff of his breath over the back of her neck, the rumble of his voice right next to her ear. Was that a normal distance for...that sort of thing? It felt close. Like, really close. And he smiled at her when she looked up. So yeah, it's not like she's been replaying that moment in her head every thirty seconds for the past eight hours. And it's definitely not a thing that she's talking about with people. Other people. Or herself.

Fuck.

She's going to murder him. Tomorrow headlines will read "Bright young pianist kills absolute fucking shithead of a violist in the most justifiable homicide ever." Parades will be held in her honour. Future generations of school children will write reports detailing her heroism in defending Brahms' second viola sonata from being turned into a funeral dirge. Maybe she'll be given some kind of medal.

"It's andante, Jyn," Says the dead man, jabbing at her score with the tip of his bow. "Andante is slower!"

"Andante means 'walking pace' you wanker! And-"

"I know that! It's-"

"-besides, it's andante con moto! Con. Moto!"

"Andante is not a fast tempo! How can you possibly justify-"

"Con moto! Do I seriously need to explain this to you?"

"I know what it means! Spanish and Italian-"

"'With motion'! That's what it means, Cassian! Con moto! With motion!"

"That doesn't mean you need to play it like you're late for class again!" He shouts.

So. Dead.

"Okay, first off," She starts, standing up from the piano bench to stop him from towering over her. Or at least to make him tower over her less. Damn him for being so pointlessly tall. "Who the hell taught you anything about music? Because you need to track them down and get your money back. Secondly, it was only the one-"

"Jyn!" There's something in his tone now that makes her stop dead. He looks furious. She stares him down, unwilling to give a single inch.

"Jyn," And now he has gone from shouting to deadly, quietly serious. It's so much worse. She can see him shaking with anger. "Do not ever question my education again. Not all of us have had the privilege of growing up around people who actually gave a damn about music, let alone having a father who's one of the world's best musicians." He obviously has never met her father if he thinks she did much 'growing up around' him. "I worked hard to get here," He continues, "To get into this school. I work hard to stay here. I will not let you ruin this piece just because you think you're smarter than everyone else."

He's out of the room before she can even begin to formulate a response to that. She should really get at least a small medal for not chasing him out into the hallway.

"Hello, Jyn."

He just knows. She has no clue how he knows it's her from all the way down the hall, but he does and while she's used to it now, it occasionally still puzzles her.

"Hello Professor Îmwe," She says, walking up to him. "How was your weekend?"

"How many times must I ask you to call me Chirrut?" He says lightly. Her last school was significantly more strict and very British compared to Yavin. Calling professors by their first names just feels wrong. "It was good. I took Baze for a hike in the forest. Considering that he's not the blind one, he gets lost surprisingly easily," He continues with a chuckle. Clearly there's a story to be had if she felt familiar enough to ask for it. "And how was your weekend? Did Bodhi throw another one of his parties?"

"No, that's this weekend coming," She says. "It was okay. I finished up the analysis for Professor Draven."

"That Bach was in need of a good analyzing. I'm sure you set it straight."

"Yeah," She laughs. She's about to make her excuses and turn away when she reconsiders. "Prof- Chirrut?"

"Yes?"

"Have you spoken with Cassian recently? About the Brahms?"

Chirrut's milky eyes search her face for a moment. "I have." He says simply. He's going to make her work for this.

"Did he say anything to you about the tempo? For the third movement?"

Chirrut chuckles slightly. "Yes, Cassian had a lot to say about the tempo of the third movement. He was quite impassioned at our lesson this morning."

Shit.

"Right..." She says, trying to figure out how to ask Chirrut about the issue without being too obvious that she's not quite as sure about the tempo as she might have thought.

"Jyn, have you ever asked him why he's chose this piece? Why it's always been this particular sonata?" She shakes her head. "Well then, I must be off to teach. Have a good day!"

One thing that Jyn has discovered about music students is that the enthusiasm for childish games and pranks seems universal no matter where she is. That's the only possible explanation for how she's been roped into playing "sardines" with the group of people who is rapidly becoming Jyn's circle of friends: Bodhi, Cassian, Han, Leia, Luke, and Han's friend Chewie. Kay is technically part of the group but she's pretty sure the fun centres of his brain are broken, so it's no surprise that he opted out of their brilliant idea to dodge security and spend the entire night in the darkened music building. They'll be paying for the sleepless night tomorrow morning, but her morning class is theory with Draven so she doesn't care if she's loopy and tired because he hates her anyways.

"Okay," Han says, having elected himself the de facto leader of their posse, "I don't think I should have to explain this, but since there's a decent chance at least some of you were major band nerds with no social life in high school, here it is. The rules are simple. Jyn lost the coin toss with Luke, so she goes to hide somewhere. Professors' offices and the concert halls are off limits. We count to, what was it?"

"Two hundred," Leia supplies with a tone of voice that makes it clear she's not remotely surprised that Han forgot this.

"Yeah, what the rules committee decided on."

"I am not a committee!"

"Right, so," Han continues, "Count to two hundred, Jyn hides, we split up and try to find her. Once you find her, hide with her. Last person to find everyone loses. Any questions?"

Chewie says...something. Jyn still cannot figure out what sort of accent the enormous, hirsute man has, but it's thick and Han seems to be the only person who can reliably understand him.

"I don't know why it's called sardines, Chewie! Just play the damn game."

Roughly two hundred seconds later, Jyn has managed to shimmy past a few beat up music stands to the back of a storage room and wedge herself between a tall stack of plastic chairs and the corner. She's tucked in such a way that hopefully she won't be too visible from the doorway, especially with the hall lights dimmed for night. It's really not a particularly clever place to hide, but she panicked and lost track of time and thought that being caught standing in the hallway would probably look much more foolish than a mediocre hiding spot. Thank goodness she's not afraid of the dark.

Hiding is boring. In retrospect, as the single most impatient person in their group, volunteering for this job was almost certainly a mistake. It's been at least five minutes, five long minutes, before she hears footsteps tromping down the hall. Finally, some excitement. Doors are being opened on either side of the storage room. She presses against the wall, tucking as far behind the chair stack as possible. If she crams into the corner just so she's fairly certain she can't be seen from the doorway. She's torn between wanting to be found so she'll at least have some company and wanting to remain hidden so that she can lord her superior hiding skills over all of her friends. Once again her competitive side wins out. With a rattle the door opens, flooding the small space with light that is blinding now that her eyes have adjusted to the minuscule amount that sneaks under the door.

"Jyn?" It's Bodhi. He seriously expects her to just call out "I'm here!" like an idiot? Now she stays quiet out of pure spite. After a silence (don't breathe, don't breathe) the door creaks closed, leaving her in the dark again. Gloating to Bodhi about how he was the first person to find her and just walked right past is going to be absolutely delightful.

"Any luck?" Says a muffled voice through the door. Maybe Luke?

"Not yet."

They exchange a few more words too softly for her to hear. Then their steps retreat down the hall and she's truly alone.

Great, now she's bored again. This is the worst game ever. She slumps against the wall and drums her fingers against her thigh, playing along to a jingle from an insurance advert that she heard a few days ago and has gotten stuck in her head ever since. She manages to amuse herself for several minutes by analyzing the chord pattern of the song: I, vi, IV, V7. Laughably basic. Draven would be proud of her. This passes the time until another person walks slowly down the hall. Whoever this is searches more carefully than Bodhi and Luke. They're opening every door and pausing to actually enter and search the rooms. She may have company soon. The sounds grow steadily louder until they stop outside the storage room. She jams into the corner as the door opens. The door closes and someone steps softly towards her. From her spot in the back corner she can't see the door over the chair stack, can't figure out who's about to find her. In the dim light from the door crack a long shadow slips over the floor in front of her. As soon as her pursuer turns the corner past the chairs she will be caught.

Despite it being an easily deduced possibility, based on who she's playing this game with, the sight of Cassian emerging from around the chairs still takes her by surprise. Damn it. His brows raise in alarm upon seeing her and he just stares, looking as if he is genuinely considering just backing right out of the closet and losing on purpose rather than take one step closer to her. Honestly she would happily let him do that, but then she hears someone quickly striding down the hall and no way in hell will she let Cassian ruin her hiding spot by just standing there like a nitwit.

"Get over here!" She hisses. When that does absolutely nothing to rouse him she claws out and drags him over by the shirtfront, managing to get him at least somewhat hidden just as the door handle rattles. That seems to break through his indecision and he surges forward, backing her into the wall just as the door opens, presenting her with a great view of his throat and collar bones. She glances up, can tell that the top of his head is poking over the chairs so she reaches up and pushes him down with a hand on the nape of his neck. He obediently stoops until his nose is pressed against her temple, lips centimetres away from her face.

This may have been a mistake.

She's still got one hand trapped between them, fisted into his shirt, the other now resting on his neck. Their new searcher starts to wander into the room, bumping into a music stand which clangs noisily.

"Damn it!" Han. He knocks into another stand. Her hand unconsciously clenches at the noise, tightening around the fabric of Cassian's shirt. He inhales sharply against her.

"What are you doing in there?" Calls Leia from the hall.

"Having a tea party! What do you think?" Han says.

"Well, obviously you're not finding Jyn."

"Yeah, like I see you doing so much better, princess..."

"Don't call me that, you spit-valve-sucking, Pachelbel-loving scruffy asshole!" Leia spits.

"Scruffy? Scruffy?" Han's voice fades slightly as his footsteps retreat towards the doorway. God, Cassian smells great.

"Do I need to define it for you? Because I'd be- Hey, get back here! Where are you going?"

She can practically hear Han's eyes rolling. "Jyn's not in there, so I'm going to look in the practice rooms if that pleases your worship."

Leia's reply is lost to the closet door slamming. For a moment the only sounds are the pair's indistinct bickering and Cassian's breathing.

Her hand is still wedged between them. She can feel his stomach expand with each breath, the only motion from his seemingly frozen form. His arms are boxing her in, hands pressed against the wall on either side of her waist. When she slides her hand down, away from the nape of his neck, he seems to remember their position. He steps back, giving her enough room for her to slip out of the corner which suddenly feels roughly the size of a petri dish.

"Sorry," He says from behind her, "Sorry, I, um-"

"It's fine," She says, turning to face him. He appears to be intently studying his shoes.

"Cassian?" He hums for her to continue. "Why Brahms?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why did you chose that piece?"

He sighs. His shoes must be exceptionally fascinating.

"It was my mother's favourite," He mutters.

"Oh. I thought..."

"What?" He asks harshly as if he's just preparing to ward off an attack.

Jyn thinks back to her own mother. Lyra is mostly represented by a hazy, warm feeling, more than actual events or remembrances. Jyn thinks of how at age nine she found a box of cassettes in the attic while she was home alone yet again. 'Lyra' was written on it in her father's messy scrawl. She remembers what it was like to pop the first tape into her Walkman and start bawling when a kind voice that she thought she'd forgotten said, 'Okay, trying this again. Chopin Nocturne in C-sharp Minor, posthumous,' and then her mama was playing the saddest, sweetest piano piece that Jyn had ever heard. That was the day, sitting in that dusty, stifling attic, that Jyn had given up violin and focused on piano. Piano made her feel connected with someone in a way that following in her father's footsteps hadn't. It felt lovely.

"Your mother had good taste," Jyn says to him. Means it.

Cassian looks up, sagging as if all the fight was just pouring out of his muscles and bones. "Yeah, she did." His voice breaks slightly. "She loved Brahms."

"My mama loved Chopin," Jyn says. He smiles softly at her. The moment is suddenly too raw, too open. She turns away to stare at the far wall.

"Do you think they've just given up?" She laughs nervously, trying to feel less exposed.

"Hmm," He considers, "I bet Luke and Bodhi are still looking. Chewie probably got bored and went to the percussion room to practice. Leia and Han are chasing each other around arguing." Jyn snorts.

Footsteps sound down the hall. She freezes, staring at the closet door. Someone's opening other doors. Realizing she's completely exposed she tries to back into the corner as quietly as possible. The door handle clatters and she panics, taking a too large step backwards and losing her balance.

Cassian whispers her name in alarm, catches her by the hips, and hauls her back into the corner just as light floods the closet. In his haste Cassian has pulled her back sharply into his chest with presumably much more force than intended. They're pressed together, from tangled feet all the way up to her head which is cradled in the hollow of his throat.

"Duck!" She hisses. He shifts down from the knees instead, entire body sliding against her back, as their latest interloper enters the closet. Now Cassian's breath is whooshing past her ear and she honestly doesn't know if that's better or worse than before. Either way, she wants to live in this moment forever. Her stomach isn't swooping anymore, it's filling with molten heat which builds and builds every time his shallow exhales caress the sensitive skin behind her right ear. He swallows thickly. His hands let go of her hips and drop to dangle next to her thighs, leaving their bodies still glued together. Every inch of her feels engulfed in the heat that radiates from his form.

Just then her phone vibrates in her back pocket. Damn, she thought she'd turned it off. At least it's on silent. Cassian's hands jerk against the sides of her legs, which is the exact moment when she considers precisely where that sensation is hitting him now that's he's crouched at her level. Her face burns. Oh god, she tries to telepathically communicate to her caller, please just hang up.

There's a faint scrape as the searcher moves some of the music stands. Her phone buzzes again and Cassian's entire body spasms as if someone has just stuck an electrode into his spine. His hips twitch slightly like he's trying to dodge back, away from her, but he's jammed against the wall and has nowhere to go.

Soft steps walk closer.

Bzzt! Her phone goes off again before she can gather sufficient mental faculties to shift forward and relieve Cassian's obvious discomfort. But something miraculous happens when this vibration hits. Cassian's hips jerk forward and he lets out an honest-to-God groan right into her ear. Fuck. That sounded like a sex groan. She has no other words to describe the strangled noise he just made. Is it possible that's he's every bit as aroused as she feels right now? Her brain floods with images; turning them around until she's pressed against the wall and he's grabbing her by the hips again and rutting into her from behind and she's just moaning. Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God. The explosion of want which surges between her legs at the thought forces an involuntary gasp from her. He freezes. He was still before but now he seems to have given up breathing entirely. If this carries on much longer that may be for the best. Him simply collapsing in a sweaty heap due to lack of oxygen flowing to his brain might be the most dignified way this could possibly end. She shoves down a hysterical giggle trying to claw its way up her throat at the thought that she is experiencing what is quite possibly the single most erotic moment of her entire life during a glorified game of hide and seek.

"Oh man, seriously? I can't believe I missed you!" Bodhi whispers bitterly when his head pops around the corner. "Hey Cassian."

Bodhi's greeting seems to snap Cassian out of his trance. He lets out a rattling breath and she all but jumps away from him.

"Uh, everything okay?" Bodhi asks in roughly the same tone of voice as the one he used that time during her high school years when he let himself into her house and found her with her hand down her pants, at which point she remembered that she'd invited him over to study before she'd gotten horny and bored, and Bodhi had said 'Should-should I go?' while gaping at the ceiling and flushing scarlet. Much like that spectacularly traumatizing incident, she also currently wishes that everyone else on the planet would just simultaneously drop dead so she didn't have to face another human being ever again. That would be fan-bloody-tastic.

"We're fine," Cassian says from behind her. He clears his throat. "Close the door."

"Right," Bodhi says.

Her phone vibrates again in her back pocket and she lets out a growl, yanking the blasted device out and blindly poking the screen until it goes still. Darkness envelops the space again. Bodhi swears quietly as he bangs into one of those damn music stands while picking his way back to their corner. Her entire body feels electric. She wants to run, scream, punch something. Fuck.

Giving her a pointed look, Bodhi slips past to sandwich between her and Cassian. Thank God. When she turns to join them Cassian looks every bit as agitated as she feels, antsy and rapidly bouncing his leg. He's also turned away, facing the wall. Very conspicuously.

The rest of the game goes quickly now that their group is too large to properly hide behind the chair stack. When Han and Leia finally spring them she more or less bolts out of the room with a strangled shout about not feeling well and doesn't stop running until she gets back to her flat.

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