#n it was low-key shitty so this is very nice t' see

[scriv3lloirl]

ur art is super epic awesome !!!

Awww, thank you. Thas' very sweet of ya t' say heh🫶‼️🦷

[liitlesunshiine]

High on the clock

Quirkless AU - Toya Todoroki

Warnings: cursing, drug use, anxiety, panic attack mention, suggestive themes, slight sexual themes 

A fun light hearted fic. Definitely enjoyed writing this piece so I hope you guys enjoy reading it. ^.^ It’s flirty n cute n Toya is a total bae. <3 

You and Toya are coworkers who try making the most out of your shitty job. 

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

“Goddd this place fuckin blows.” You groaned in frustration sitting across Toya. 

“As if I didn’t know that already,” he sleeplishly replied. 

You never intended on working in this shit show of a store for as long as you have but yet, here you were two wasted years later. You had high hopes after graduation but it seems no job wants to hire someone with no experience and you can’t get any experience since you can’t get an actual job that’ll provide it. So it’s forced you in this sort of awkward limbo and vicious cycle of going back and forth. You’ve been stuck wearing this shitty bright uniform with a barely livable wage and terrible hours. Miserable every second of the day, with the constant guilt eating at you for being so complacent. 

Of course there were a few exceptions.

Of course… Like the highly attractive coworker you spent most of your time here with. Days spent with Toya were significantly better than the days spent without Toya. In fact, if it weren’t for him, you’d probably wouldn’t have lasted as long as you had here. Because man, when days were good they were ok, but when the days were bad, they were really fucking bad.  Some in which you were ready to burn down everyone and everything yet the sweet, hot, god-like Toya would make you melt with his cute quirky smile and meet your eyes with his own that you would absolutely drown in and next thing you know, you had completely forgotten about what you were upset over. Now, it’s just a bonus that he meets your sarcasm with his own, the both of you have always had this flirty like atmosphere that neither of you are willing to acknowledge but low key kinda know there’s an underlying sexual tension there. It was strange how well you both got along, the average onlooker would assume nothing more than a simple boyfriend and girlfriend relationship but it was really just mutual likability and connection between the two of you. Days with Toya were simply good days. And you were absolutely grateful for someone like him because god knows how terrible it’d really be here without him.

“Why don’t we make this night a bit memorable,” Toya who was right next to you behind the counter, gives you a side wink and unzips the company jacket to reveal a small ziplock within the pocket. Andddddd long behold it’s weed! You chuckle to yourself, never getting tired of Toya’s shenanigans. Very much appreciated as he’s best form of entertainment here. 

“Toya we almost got caught last time, you really wanna risk it again?” Your words ran on deaf ears as he was already rolling up the blunt underneath the counter, “what’s the worst they can do? Fire us?” You stopped for a second and nodded, well he wasn’t wrong. Maybe this was the push you needed to finally leave this shit hole. “You got a point, let’s do it quick before someone comes in.” 

While this is a 24 hour convenience store, usually pass 1am, rarely anyone is inside. So you suppose it wouldn’t be too bad of an idea. Plus with Toya your bound to have a good time, who are you to deny him. You trusted in him enough to get away with his bs. 

“Pass the lighter doll,” you fished for the lighter that was nicely decorated with little blue flames over in your small book bag and passed it to him. He holds the blunt between his two hands and you duck underneath the counter with him. “Ladies first,” he cockily said, you lean forward and placed your mouth on the blunt while he held it for you. He always did this and it always felt oddly intimate to you. Couldn’t help the warm fuzzy feeling in your chest taking over when his glass like eyes gazed over you. They always made you curious and somehow hungry for knowledge of his life. You’ve never knew someone so well yet know nothing of them, but that’s always been enigma of Touya. You exhaled closing your eyes, attempting to calm your nerves. “You know the only time I ever smoke is on the job with you.” He smirked bringing the blunt to his own lips, “guess I’m a bad influence then.” 

You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Everyone needs a lil spice in their life, no?” It was his turn to roll his eyes. You gently grabbed his wrist and led the blunt back to your lips again, he stared quietly at you. Which oddly made you tense up. “Don’t look at me like that,” you smiled. 

“Like what?” He smiled. 

“Like I’m the most beautiful girl in the world that you can’t live without.” Now you both laughed. This was the usual routine with Toya; cracking jokes and talking shit for a bit and simply enjoying each other’s company while the store was empty. He finally broke the trance you were in when he spoke up. 

“You know, having my father kick me out of the house wasn’t so bad after all,” Toya leaned in. 

You looked at him with a puzzled look, he never brings up his father. Whenever the conversation appeared it was quickly diverted elsewhere. You didn’t want to poke or intrude but curiosity got the best of you and you couldn’t help but want to continue the conversation. “Yea? Why is that?” You wondered. His father, from what you’ve been able to gather with the little bits Toya has mentioned here and there, was that supposedly his father is some CEO to a multi million dollar company. Odd considering the likes to where Toya ended up but you concluded that they must’ve ended in bad terms. You understood how cruel and selfish parents can be and didn’t need further explanation on that part. Easy to assume considering how poorly and little he speaks of him. He shut your ideas off with his simple response. 

“I wouldn’t be smoking a blunt with the world’s most beautiful girl under this shitty counter, if it weren’t for it.” Ha, that definitely caught you off guard, causing a light blush to form across your face. Even with a seeming sensitive topic he still manages to tease you. He’s got that cheeky smile plastered all over, “Got you choked up doll?” You rolled your eyes. You were about to tell him off before the door rang indicating that someone has entered the store. You snapped out of the haze and immediately got up to quickly realize that the person who entered was one of the regional managers, oh fuck. You nearly froze in fear and kicked Toya under the counter. “Ow the fuck was that for?” He looked at you while soothing the kick you just gave him but upon looking at your panicked expression and frenzied body, he quickly crushed the blunt and shoved it back inside the pocket of his jacket. He didn’t need to be told or explained which you greatly appreciated at the moment. Toya was always able to read the room, bless his soul. He clumsily got back up to which you had fixed his crooked hat and whispered into his ear to tuck his shirt in while covering him slightly to do so.

“Hi-ya hello, good afternoon, I mean good evening sir.” You embarrassedly stumbled over your words to which Toya snickered at. You kicked him again harder this time as discreetly as you could. On the verge of a panic attack. He gripped tightly at the counter, smiling at the man in front of you both. Hissing silently at the pain your kick caused him. He gave you a quick side eye nodding his head in disapproval. Which somehow made you feel drastically worse. 

“Good evening to you both, I’m sure you know who I am.” 

You responded a bit too hastily looking like a rabid chihuahua. “Yes! Yea. Of course we do, how are you? What brings you in at this time? It’s so late.” You manage to say within 2.0 seconds, the automatic robotic customer service attitude overtaking your body. Well- at least trying to considering you just had a 30-minute smoke sesh under the counter and your mind is  desperately trying to sober up. Honestly, what the fuck was he doing here at this time? This has never happened and I mean out of all the hours of the day. Oh yea, you’re definitely getting fucked, the smell of weed was so pungent, it was literally embarrassing how bad the situation looks. You wanted to cry. Toya’s eyes were stained red and you only assumed yours look worse. 

“Gotten a few complaints about this store recently. Wanted to come in and take a look.” You began to get a cold sweat, oh shit he knows, he definitely knows. You had words lodged in your throat that couldn’t come out. What could you say? What can you say? You’re in the wrong here. Everyone knows that smoking weed with your cool and kinda hot coworker under the counter is definitely not ok. Maybe even illegal, oh god what if this gets on your record. You’ll definitely not be able to get a professional job, then you’ll really get stuck working a even shitter job than this. Oh good oh god oh my god. 

As if sensing the absolute panic and anxiety off of you, Toya gently caressed your arm motioning you to relax and to stay silent. You recognized the wave that washed over him and instantly knew he’d handle the situation, he always does. And if you could die in his arms right now, you’d accept your fate happily. Toya was an interesting man oh right, you always believed he held such potential to do great things and even change the world. It doesn’t make sense really considering you both work at a basic job but you had come to secretly admire the guy. You’d would tell him too, how you believed in him, how you had so much confidence for him to become something great but he would always shut it down and brush it off like it was nothing.  It was as if he didn’t think he was good enough. It always bugged you that he thought so little of himself, but seeing him now causally and confidently bullshit the regional manager out of your current situation just simply reminded you of how special he was to you. Definitely got your pussy wet and made you eternally grateful too.

Toya was standing in front of the counter, making hand gestures while the manager just stared analyzing his words. You were completely z0ned out, only able to get parts of the conversation. 

“We’ve been having this customer appear at the store over and over again around this time of night harassing me and Y/N. We’ve considered calling the cops since he’s always high off his mind, we’ve caught him smoking in the bathroom on multiple occasions too. He was in here about 15 minutes ago and we haven’t been able to get rid of the smell.” 

Ah the beautiful lies that slipped through Toya’s lips sounded like a symphony. It was nothing short of comedic and yet so fucking Oscar-worthy. You could definitely pay this man to tell you lies he with how effortlessly convincing he was. You couldn’t even care to listen to what the manager was responding with, but on his way out he waved at you wishing you a goodnight and you sighed out with relief. 

Toya turns to you clasping his hands together “well there’s gonna be a security guard here for the next two weeks.” You laughed “I guess that’s better than getting fired huh.” 

“I’m not sure about that,” he chuckled. “I texted Shigs to come and take over the rest of our shift.” 

You looked at him confused, “how come? Either way, do you think he’ll be ok alone here?”

Toya slipped his phone into his pocket and walked back to you “yea he doesn’t give a fuck. Besides you look pale fucking white, guess this guy sobered your ass up real quick.” 

You attempted to glare angrily at him but it came off as a soft puppy look. You had no energy nor the strength to pretend. It feels like you just got whiplash from the rollercoaster you were on. Figured it was no use in lying considering you looked like you just went through it. “Yea, I still feel high as shit, I just wanna go home already, only thing this guy gave me was a fat fucking headache.” 

He ruffled the top of your head, “awe poor baby,” he said in a teasing tone, he inched up right beside you, “I got something that can help with that.” You jokingly pushed him off you, tying to ignore the warm feeling pooling under your stomach. Your mind was definitely thinking something dirty with a million miles per second and with how he handled today’s situation you’d be more than willing to give him whatever he pleased, but you pretended to cast aside those intrusive thoughts and act unfazed. “Shit don’t tell me you got Advil on you too?” 

He chuckled lightly nodding is head down, “got something even better doll.” He scoots up next to you and grabs a bottle of excedrin underneath the counter, passing it to you. You excitedly open it taking two pills out “oh my god I didn’t know we had some underneath here, yes thank you. You're definitely my hero today Toya.” As if y’all didn’t work in a convenience store that had if not all types of medicines. It was the effort that made it special though, it’s what brought that bright goofy smile of yours to light.  

You weren’t able to see the blush that formed on his cheeks while you swallowed the two pills. “Yea I remember you telling me you get headaches n shit and I know this medicine helps with it.” He was scratching the back of his head awkwardly. He never really handles compliments well but you tippy toed over to him and wrapped your arms softly around his neck. “I appreciate it Toya, that was really thoughtful. Thank you.” 

If you didn’t see his previous blush you definitely noticed this one, which in turn lead you to blush. But you couldn’t miss this opportunity- “AWE is lil Toya blushing. So cute brings me back to my middle school days.” That caused a loud laugh to come out of you both. “Shut it.” he quickly and quietly said. 

“Am I interrupting something.” You and Toya quickly untangled from each other trying to play off the slight tension in the air. 

“Errrr um.. Hey Shiggy, thanks for uh coming in.” You awkwardly stumbled, you never really got along with him so there was always this weird loud silence between the both of you. He already seemed to be annoyed, per usual.  The sloppy blue hair all tangled looking greasy and his patchy skin looking irritated and flaky as usual. He definitely was not amused or happy to be here. Well when was her ever. You’ve yet to seen the man smile. 

“Whatever.” He takes a sip from his metal bottle and walks over to the counter. 

“Shiggy you the man, thanks for pulling up bud.” Toya pats him in the back and Shigaraki shuttered. “Don’t touch me,” he flatly said. He glared at you both. 

“You guys can go leave and fuck now.” The words caught you instantly by surprise and you got completely red. “That’s not what were gonn- ugh whatever like it matters.” With that, you and Toya clock out and leave the store with Shigaraki sending daggers at your back.

“He’s always acting like such a bitch.” You annoyingly complained. 

Toya puts his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him “he ain’t so bad when you get to know him.” 

“I guess.” You rolled your eyes, you didn’t really care. You were more relieved to have finally left. He can rot in the store by himself for all you care. Not you or Toga would miss him. 

“So,” Toya glided with his words, itching you closer to him. He was leading the way in this position with you happily following. Not knowing the destination but feeling completely at peace with his form completely snug at your side. You comfortably wrapped your arm around his waist and gently placed your head in the crook of his neck. This was nice you thought, you and Toya were always this intimate when alone. No hesitation or awkwardness, just simply holding hands and sharing body heat as friends with the underlying passion waiting to burst and to be acknowledged. But nothing ever felt rushed, not with Toya. You stared at him from this angle, taking in his beautiful effortless features. His lashes looked so long as you stared in slight jealousy, his hair a perfect black mess with hidden red roots if you stared long enough, and his eyes. Man, you could write poems and sing songs with how the eyes stirred up some emotion you can't quite pin down. Always causing an eruption of feelings you can barely control. 

You felt the warmth from his breath when he spoke, “wanna go to back to my place and finish that blunt? Would love nothing more than to see the world’s most beautiful girl on my bed.” 

You blushed and nodded looking at those piercing blue eyes once again “well, when you look at me like that I guess I can’t say no.” 

Maybe this time you would finally show Toya just how special he really is to you. 

[chocosvt]

⚬ pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader ⚬ word count: 4342 ⚬ warnings: brief drug mention ⚬ genres: mainly just fluff! college/uni!au

✧✎ synopsis: your longtime campus crush just received an interesting dare: to ask you out on a date. while the circumstances are questionable, you aren’t going to decline. maybe this is your ticket to romance. 

✧✎ a/n: if this title or plot sounds familiar, then that’s bc i finally accomplished a goal of mine: to rewrite i dare you. this was a fic i originally wrote in 2016!! i did change some aspects, so not everything is identical. PLS ENJOY ;w;

The bells to the café door jingled.

Normally, you wouldn’t be so attentive about the customers filtering in and out, but at that moment, your gaze shot over the lid of your laptop like a harpoon. It was roughly the right time, the right day. According to your judgement, this was when they usually came for their morning coffees. Jeonghan, Joshua, and Seungcheol: a very popular trio amongst the likings of your campus.  

Jeonghan was a nursing student. Clean-cut, charming to a degree of annoyance, and always ordered a boring black coffee. The second boy, Joshua, was cute enough to stop you in your tracks and force a double-take. However, he liked mathematics, numbers, weird formulas which looked more torture than learning. He preferred lattes with foam. And then there was Seungcheol. You wouldn’t call him your true love, because you didn’t know him all that well, and as far as he was concerned you were the lunatic who accidentally set pages of Joshua’s chemistry homework on fire. But that was a story for another day (you haven’t been near that Yankee candle since).

Nonetheless, you were crushing on him. Badly. To the point where you arrived at the café early, pretending to type a document on your laptop, just so you could flit your eyes every so often at his table while he slurped his chocolate mocha. You even had their scheduling memorized. It was a bit weird, and you would be the first to admit such a thing, but nothing was going to thwart you from daydreaming about those eyes of his. Or that dazzling smile. His short bursts of laughter which were usually tweezed out at Jeonghan pulling some stupid prank on Joshua. Everything about you adored him.

The trio gathered at their usual table, sat obliquely to your nook by the window. You had opened an older document that was already finished, pretended to tap against the keys while they ate a small breakfast before class. Something was different. They were giggling more than usual. And you couldn’t help but blatantly stare with concern when Joshua tore open a salt packet and poured it straight on his tongue. Jeonghan was grinning so widely that you were positive his face must be aching, and Seungcheol cackled into his fist while Joshua immediately grabbed for his latte.

A game. They were playing some sort of game.

Once Joshua had recovered, you noted that he began surveying the café, running his narrowed gaze to each table.

The second he found you huddled in the corner, attempting to shrink behind your laptop and pretend your presence was nothing but invisible, Joshua leaned into Seungcheol’s side to make a very smiley whisper. Pretend I’m working, pretend I’m working on something so damn important I can’t look up for even a second, you reiterated to yourself quietly, ignoring the panic ballooning inside you. A minute later, someone had just pulled out the chair across from you. They sat down with a slight groan, clasping their hands together.

Of course, it was Seungcheol.

“Hey.” He said, watching as you tentatively lowered the lid of your laptop, probably wondering why the hell you looked so stunned.

“What are you, um, doing?” You asked.

Seungcheol could not be sitting across from you just because he wanted to. It was impossible. And as much as that stung to admit, you knew the truth was simply that. He was definitely put up to this.

“We know each other pretty well, correct?” The boy completely ignored your question. “I know that you set Josh’s chem notes on fire. We take toxicology together. Need I say more?”

“Wow,” you replied, twiddling your fingers anxiously under the table, “that’s a whole two things. I can’t even count that high.”

“We can’t all be mathematicians,” Seungcheol moved the conversation along while he angled a white jar of sugar, “and I guess I should tell you, I’m in a predicament, which involves you.”

Your hands squeezed together so firmly that they nearly moulded into permanent fists. Seungcheol was staring at you now rather than flickering his gaze between the objects on the table, with those eyes as dark as sapphire. You were burning up, sweltering, felt like you needed to burst from your clothes and bathe in ice.

“A predicament?”

Seungcheol folded his muscular arms on the table and nodded. “Yeah, I got a dare from Josh. To ask you out. The thing is, I’m not supposed to tell you. But you seem like a nice girl.”

You swallowed very tautly and pushed down the lid of your laptop a little more. Over Seungcheol’s shoulder, you spotted both Joshua and Jeonghan observing, chuckling amongst themselves.

“Another thing,” Seungcheol added, raking a hand through his black locks, “I don’t want to lose to tweedle-dumb and tweedle-idiot over there – you can decide who’s who – so you should accept.”

Straightening your posture against the chair, you decided to spell out the situation, more for your sake than Seungcheol’s. “Let me get this straight. You got dared to ask me out. You have nothing better to do tomorrow night, so you accepted it. And I don’t have a choice.”

“Your wording is a bit disparaging. But essentially, yeah.” He leaned back with a gorgeous smile, turning up his palm. “So, down?”

At that moment, you could not believe the universe had just ladled this ridiculous possibility into your lap. A date with your biggest crush on campus. A date that so many people would be wrangling your neck to steal from you – even if it was based on an innocuous little game which Seungcheol refused to submit because he was too competitive at heart. It might not have been your most prideful choice in life, but you accepted. Any chance to spend the night with him would not be wasted as long as the offer stood.

However, you had one condition.

“I’ll do it,” you grinned, watching the boy’s expression perk like a child who just got handed a cookie, “on the account of another dare. Which you’ll find out on our fake date.”

“Fine.” Seungcheol shrugged, sliding his phone across the table so that you could enter your number. He stood up afterward, on the verge of returning to his friends when he suddenly paused.

“See you tomorrow night, sweetheart.”

There was such a rush of butterflies in your stomach, you were surprised one hadn’t flown out your mouth.

You didn’t know why you cared so much about a date that was most likely intended to humiliate you. Was Joshua still not over those chemistry sheets? Even after you spent a good two hours in the library attempting to rewrite them with your nicest, smoothest gel pel? Thoughts of what to wear, your style of makeup, and which perfume you should choose amongst the few on your dresser were awfully overwhelming. In fact, you were almost late to the park, the area Seungcheol had picked as a rendezvous point.

He rose from the bench in front of the duck pond once you arrived, checking the time on his wrist while making a tsking sound.

“Four and a half minutes late,” Seungcheol said, shaking his head, “you’re not making a good first impression, my lady.”

Obviously, you weren’t going to admit how you were stressing about a technically-fake date. In the end, you threw on a simple outfit and applied some lipstick on your way out the door, shoving the tube into a small purse hung over your shoulder. It’s not like he was treating you to a five-star restaurant by romantic candlelight. But if he ever did, you had the perfect outfit planned.

“Well, I’m here now. And with your dare.” You grinned.

Seungcheol stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Let’s hear it.”

“I dare you to buy me a week of coffee.”

At first, Seungcheol didn’t utter a thing. But then he erupted into a fit of laughter until his cheeks turned rosy like peaches.

“That’s not how this works,” he half-sighed, half-chuckled while removing a tear from his eye, “I’m rejecting it.”

“You can’t reject it! You definitely owe me. I didn’t let you lose to tweedle-dumb or tweedle-idiot. Plus, it’s low to ask someone out on a dare. I didn’t even have to show up.”  Ensuring your tone was confident, you folded your arms over your chest, raised your brow at the boy, and observed him as he tapped his foot in contemplation.

“Can I have time to consider?” Seungcheol asked.

While it was tough to capitulate so easily and let him have his way, you didn’t want to spend the entirety of your night standing next to a slimy pond, debating the regulations. So you bit the bullet. Besides, Seungcheol announced that there was a party he needed to stop by, that there was a particular someone to which he owned money. It was a short walk to this brick house that reverberated with music, cars stalled up and down the street while a flood of strobing colours illuminated in the windows. Seungcheol knocked on the door quite loudly, and then he reached for your hand, wrapping his fingers around yours. You shot him a puzzled glance just as the door swung open, the stench of marijuana mingling with the cool, night air.  

“Well, well, well,” a fox-eyed boy murmured after taking a long puff from his blunt, “Choi Seungcheol. It’s about damn time.”

“I was in the neighbourhood. Heard you and Soonyoung were lighting this place up. What a good turnout, huh?”

“Mmhm,” the other boy hummed unenthusiastically, leaning his wide shoulder against the doorframe, “you got the money or no?”

Seungcheol laughed. “C’mon, Wonwoo. We don’t even get to go inside? Hang out for a bit? Have a drink? You’re a shitty host.”

Wonwoo slid a finger under his chin, rubbing in contemplation. It was starting to get colder out, for you could hear the tree leaves rustling together as a wind whisked through the dark. You squished yourself a bit closer into Seungcheol’s side, and to your surprise, he let go of your hand and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. Finally, Wonwoo concurred, sticking the rolled paper back between his lips while stepping aside with an inviting gesture.

“Make yourselves comfortable,” the boy muttered, “but I’ll be coming to find you in about ten minutes. And I wanna see cash.”

“What’s his problem?” You whispered by Seungcheol’s ear as he guided you around an illy lit corner, into the kitchen.

His warm breath feathered your ear as he said, “I lost a couple bets to him and was slow getting the money back.” Seungcheol then grabbed two solo cups organized in a stack on the counter, filling each with a red, fruit-mixed alcohol which sat in two glass bowls.

“Don’t worry, he’s harmless.”

You accepted the cup and took a sip. “Oh, in case you needed to beat him up? I don’t know,” you lilted,  “he looks pretty sturdy.”

“Are you kidding?” Seungcheol gawked.

He slapped his drink down on the counter and threw his jacket over the back of a chair. With a perplexed, is this man crazy expression, you watched him roll up his sleeve and flex his bicep.

“Go ahead,” the boy grinned, “you’ll see.”

You made sure to roll your eyes and sigh incredibly loud in order to really establish your indifference. Meanwhile, your inner-self was fizzling like a carbonated soda. Grabbing onto Seungcheol’s muscle, you pressed down, forcing back a surprised chuckle at the fact his arm was hard as a rock. In that moment your meter of attraction toward the boy was ticking so absurdly you thought it could break.

“Okay, I’ll give it to you, Seungcheol. You’re strong.”

He tugged his sleeve back down and slid into the jacket again, a very brash smirk beaming on his face. You couldn’t decipher if he’d actually been attempting to impress you or if that was just a display of his cockiness. And yet, you didn’t really care which category it fell into, because you were still blissfully afloat thinking about Seungcheol’s arms. You lifted your drink and took another sip, swishing the sweet but tangy flavour between your cheeks. At that moment, a man you didn’t recognize attempted to scoot behind you – except there was definitely enough room for him to get by without planting his hands on your hips and squeezing them.

“Hey! What the hell?” You squeaked, quickly turning around on your heel to see the crookedly amused look he stared at you with.

“What?” He somehow had the audacity to respond.

But you weren’t going to accept his disgraceful maneuvers, and neither was Seungcheol. He abandoned his cup on the counter and pushed up his sleeves.

“Did you just put your hands on her?” Came his demand. It didn’t sound like the normal, relaxed Seungcheol who liked his jokes, but someone with an unnerving amount of authority and fearlessness.

“I-I was trying to get by.” The man stammered, clearly uncomfortable with the thought of confrontation. He was already stepping backward as Seungcheol approached him.

“Don’t touch other people like that,” Seungcheol admonished him in a deep, staid voice, then pointed toward the threshold of the kitchen, “just get out, man. Seriously. Don’t even go near her.” And like a saddened puppy who received a scolding from its owners to lay down in the pen, the man slinked away without another word.

You were unsure of what to say to Seungcheol for diminishing the situation. Folding your arms tightly, you nodded at him.

“Thanks.”

Wonwoo came wandering into the kitchen. His eyes brightened the moment he saw Seungcheol, and he rubbed his fingers together to wordlessly convey that he wanted his money now.

“It’s alright,” Seungcheol gave you a soft smile while he revealed a large wad of cash from his pocket, “he was a weirdo.”

“Yeah.” You laughed as Seungcheol handed the sum to his friend, who fleshed out the paper notes to count the correct amount.

It took you a moment to realize that Seungcheol’s arm had wrapped back around your shoulders, this time a bit more securely.  When you leaned into him, it wasn’t because you felt a draft or a chill, but because he was comfortable. He felt and smelled like safety.

Later that night, you returned to the park, throwing stones into the duck pond while the moon was hidden behind a thin curtain of clouds. Seungcheol claimed that he could throw his stones farther than yours, which prompted your short-lived competition. It had ended so abruptly because you ran out of stones to throw. At one point you tried tossing sticks, but they didn’t travel as far, and they definitely didn’t break the surface of the water with a satisfying plop.

“Hey,” Seungcheol said, nudging your elbow excitedly, “I dare you to get in the pond.”

“No way!” You cackled. “It’s freezing. And that pond is nasty.”

“Just dip your toe in or something.”

“You dip your toe in!”

“I don’t wanna take off my socks.”

You huffed, a plume of your breath escaping into the crisp air.

“Well, we’re at a crossroads then, aren’t we?”

Rather than continue bickering about the dare, you were starting to feel these annoying hunger pangs. You didn’t eat dinner because of how nervous you were toward this fake date (which was rapidly morphing into a very real date) with Seungcheol. The most you ate today had been some toast and pieces of apple your roommate cut the night before. Directly on cue, your stomach gurgled, and your face swelled hot with embarrassment. Seungcheol grinned.

“Hungry?”

“Starving, more like.” You corrected him.

He pulled out the white fabric liners of his pockets, revealing they were completely empty. “All my cash went to Wonwoo.”

You flashed a playful smile while repeating his statement from earlier. “Oh, wow. Not being able to cover the meal on a first date? You’re not making a good impression, sweetheart.”

In an instant, Seungcheol had snatched your hand, interlocking your fingers together warmly. He began tugging you out of the park and onto a familiar street, where there was a twenty-four-hour diner that the students absolutely loved. Admittedly, you had been there a few times. Once as a giggly drunk who just wanted a waffle plate at three in the morning, and also as a struggling student who was desperate for a cup of coffee in order to power through a procrastinated essay. Now, it seemed you were returning for a date.

“I’ll pay you back, promise.” Seungcheol said as the server placed a nacho platter onto the table. “It’s my new priority.”

The diner was quiet and mostly empty apart from a group of three seated at another table. You didn’t realize just how hungry you were until that first taste of melted cheese, salsa, and seared chicken hit your mouth. Seungcheol didn’t like black olives, so he kept picking them off. You were eating too ravenously to inspect your food.

“You’re taking the olives off?” You smirked. “Baby.”

Seungcheol scoffed. “I am not a baby.” He looked up at you as he shoved another delicious chip in his mouth. “And I know it gives you some sick, twisted pleasure to say that. You should be ashamed.”

Nearly choking on the water you just sipped, you dropped the  cup back on the table to cough a few times.

“You know what’s sick? The fact I’m paying.”

The boy reached for his glass of coca cola. “Yeah, but technically this isn’t a real date. So, doesn’t count.”

“Really?” Raising a questioned eyebrow, you watched Seungcheol take a long gulp from his drink. “Are you willing to say that with your entire chest? That this isn’t a real date?”

And in that moment, Seungcheol genuinely seemed to have met a stupor. In fact, there was a red tint dusting the crest of each his cheeks. He leaned back in the booth, folded his arms over his chest, and pursed his lips. You waited patiently for his response, lifting a nacho to your mouth while threads of cheese dangled in the air.

A smile broke through his stiff, musing expression.

“Okay,” he nodded his head, “maybe this is a real date,” (your heart impossibly fluttered), “you could be right about that.”

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.” You answered.

In truth, you couldn’t have been more delighted to hear Seungcheol agree, because if he hadn’t, you would have dined and dashed, fled straight out the restaurant in a haze of shame and embarrassment. In the span of just a few hours, your attraction toward this boy had impressively expanded like a sponge soaking up water. Before, you weren’t positive that he could be your true love. It was mostly a running joke between you and… well, yourself. However, this one night was proving that perhaps your joke could have some actual weight to it. And as Seungcheol continued to make you laugh, choke on your food, stare at him in complete adoration like he was a crowned jewel, you completely lost track of time.

It wasn’t until you burst into another frenzy of laughter at his story and spilt water all down your shirt that you finally checked your phone. Almost one in the morning. The server whisked your cutlery and plates away with a tired expression. You tipped generously, feeling rather guilty for creating such a racket at this hour.

“Do you want my jacket?” Seungcheol asked as you prepared to leave. There was a huge water stain soaking through your shirt.

“A-Are you sure?” You asked him, pulling a few strands of hair from your face. He nodded, already wrestling the jacket off.

“Go change, sweetheart,” Seungcheol told you so casually that you couldn’t hide this blatant look of surprise, “I’ll wait outside.”

Entering a washroom stall, you peeled the damp shirt over your head and folded it to pack nicely within your purse. You then slipped into Seungcheol’s jacket, which had this wonderful, warm fleece patched to the inside. It was soft against your bare skin, and it smelled like a fragrant hint of his cologne. After spending an extra moment freshening up at the sink, you wandered back into the cool night, where Seungcheol was leaning against a street pole. You weren’t sure if your eyes were playing tricks at the late hour, or if he’d actually given you a very smug, very relishing once-over.

Considering you had class early the next day, you asked Seungcheol if he’d be willing to walk you home. He obliged, and you paced together in comfortable silence until reaching the bridge. It arched over a swirling, gushing river which ran through the city, the current black as kohl and reflecting the lights of the nearby architecture. In the daytime this bridge wasn’t anything spectacular, but it was a beautiful vantage point during the night; a place to watch the city sparkle and flash like the cosmos.

“Hey,” Seungcheol whispered, grabbing your hand, “I have another dare for you, since you chickened out on the pond.”

You looked at the mischief compiling in his gaze. “What?”

“Climb up there.”

Seungcheol pointed toward a thick, metal beam that slanted upward, like a ramp. It flattened out at the top, and sometimes when you walked by during the day, there would be a few students sitting down after class, eating sandwiches or cracking open sodas. A placement of bars was set behind, only wide enough to stick your leg through. You glanced back at Seungcheol and nodded.

“Okay, fine.”

And so you began to climb up the slanted beam, feeling the breeze nip at your cheeks, your hair, like the smallest of kisses. At the flattened section, you turned around and looked down at Seungcheol, feeling like the empress of a powerful kingdom. His face ignited in the moonlight. He was smiling very wide as you stuck out your tongue.

“Easy. I dare you to climb up here.”

Seungcheol shook his head. “I, uh, can’t.”

“Why not?” You laughed, folding your arms. “Scared?”

“No, I just—I twisted my ankle, so I can’t.”

“When was that?”

“You weren’t looking.”

Rolling your eyes, you decided to tease him. Taking the zipper dangling from his jacket, you began to pull it down slowly, revealing a hidden amount of skin which turned the boy’s face an adorable pink.

“If you come up here, I’ll take the jacket all the way off.” You sang in a promiscuous tone, lifting up the strap of your bra and snapping it. Seungcheol grinned, cupping a hand over his gaze.

“No way. I’m not falling into a trap like that.”

“Fine,” you huffed, lowering to your butt and carefully scooting your way down the metallic beam, “you missed out.”

Seungcheol merely held his tongue; however, he did take the zipper on his jacket and pull it back up, right to your chin, hiding the expanse of flesh from the bright moonlight. You weren’t sure what courageous energy had just taken over your body. In fact, you’d probably regret such a thing by the time your alarm clock erupted tomorrow morning, pulling you from the pit of your sleep.

“I don’t want you getting cold.” He said. “And I can’t believe you nearly gave me a strip tease from the support beam of a bridge. That’s a first.”

“I’m just making sure you don’t forget this date.” You chuckled, half in nonsense, half in truth.

As he promised, Seungcheol walked you back to the house and made sure the door unlocked using the spare key under the letter box. Thankfully, your roommate left the lights of the front porch on, the bulbs now swathed in grey moths. It was a strange night. A night that wouldn’t have happened if not for the antics of Seungcheol and his two equally competitive friends. Maybe there was a positive side to burning Joshua’s chemistry notes, though you weren’t sure he’d be thrilled to hear you admit that. A game of I Dare You, turned into a fake date, turned into a real date, turned into a sweet affection.

You yawned, feeling the faint glisten of tears stretch in your eyes. “I had fun. And I guess I’ll see you tomorrow in toxicology.”

“With my jacket.” He reminded you.

“Yes, of course. With your jacket.”

And while you expected Seungcheol to simply bid his goodnight and perhaps take a late bus home, firing question after question of why he decided to accept such a stupid dare as he stared out the window, you were surprised when he reached for your hand.

“By the way,” he said, “I accept.”

You crinkled your nose. “Accept what?”

“The dare. I’ll buy you coffee every morning this week.”

“Oh!” There was a small flare crackling to life in your eyes as you recalled the original dare of the night. “That’s right. I forgot.”

“Yeah, I’ll do it.” Seungcheol agreed. He then squeezed your hand. “On the account of one very simple condition.”

“I don’t think you can do that. Doesn’t seem rule-abiding.”

The boy discarded your comment. Instead, his grasp became tighter around your hand. He pulled you swiftly into his chest and stared straight into your helpless, panicking eyes as though he were going to confess something profound and utterly dire.

He smirked. “I want you to kiss me each time.”

Seungcheol lifted his brow in anticipation of your response, which was an undoubted agreement. Probably the fastest, easiest agreement you had ever made in your life. He moved in close to your ear, whispering something about how you should meet at the café tomorrow morning and walk to the lecture hall together, though you were ultimately buzzing and experiencing such a bold heartbeat that you missed most of the details. When he pulled away, you smiled.

“That sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight.”

Stepping off the porch, he turned back with a wave.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

✧✎ a/n: the reason i wanted to rewrite this fic was bc i still rly enjoy the concept. however, i cannot STAND my old style of writing, thus i decided to just rewrite the fic and appease the nagging in my head lol. this is how i would have written this fic today if i hadn’t already done so four years ago. i’m also questioning the possibility of rewriting love café for jeonghan (pls don’t go reading it if u haven’t already)  but that would take much longer ,,,, JUST AN IDEA THOUGH. i hope you enjoyed!!

[baodurs]

i want someone besides me and the 2 friends who know all the lore to meet my detective, but i’m too impatient to let you get to know her via fic so i filled out this questionnaire instead. she is veronica and she is so important, here is some stuff about her if you are interested :’)

QUICK READ OF YOUR DETECTIVE

Name: veronica langford

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: bi

Love interest: adam

Best friend: morgan

Main skill: science/technology

Secondary skill: combat/physical

Main personality trait: impulsive

Secondary personality trait: sarcastic

Why did they join the Wayhaven PD?: best use of her science skills

Relationship with Rebecca: not great

Relationship with Bobby: ex, finds it hard to be around him

Verda or Tina?: both! but she’s on verda’s branch

Murphy bite?: wrist

Murphy's fate?: captured

Rescue LI or Rescue Sanja?: sanja

GENERAL

Name: veronica “it’s been 3 years and i never gave her a middle name” langford

Nickname: just veronica. people around wayhaven called her ronny growing up, and a few still do despite her trying to grow out of it. maybe a few people from college and sometimes tina call her v or vee or something.

Birthday: please you all know i am so scared of concrete dates

Age: 26

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: bi

Hair color: brown

Eye color: dark brown

Height: 5′10 (178 cm)

Piercings: just one in each ear

Tattoos: something retro sci-fi on her shoulder. not a reference to anything specific, but like a little planetary landscape with a UFO in the background or something.

Clothing Style: casual. lots of tank tops and muscle tees (weather- and occasion-permitting), concert t-shirts, warm colors. flannels and leather jackets. jeans, sneakers, combat boots. think like rocker chick vibes, but cozier and more colorful.

Apartment Style: basic. she really did not plan on living there long and kept putting off decorating because it’d be a waste if she was just going to move out. this rationalization went on so long but since the end of book 1 she has slowly bought a few things to push it towards “cozy,” still pretty sparse though.

STATS

Personality:

Charming | Intimidating

Impulsive | Cautious

Sarcastic | Genuine

Friendly | Stoic

Easygoing | Stubborn

Traits:

Heart | Mind

Optimist | Pessimist

Team Player | Independent

Skills:

Main Skill: science/technology (but mostly science)

Second Skill: combat/physical

By the Book | Bend the Rules

KEY DECISIONS

Reason for joining the Wayhaven PD: best use of her science skills

Murphy bite:  Wrist | Neck | None

Murphy’s Fate: Captured | Escaped

Rescued: Love Interest | Sanja

ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP

Love Interest: adam

Why them?: for veronica it’s kind of retroactive. the way i imagine their True Canon, they don’t have any real romantic moments in book 1, so she doesn’t seriously consider that adam might have feelings for her until well into book 2. (the training scene is when she’s like “oh. ok. i get it now.”) even then it takes a few more chapters for her to really process that, figure out how she feels, and recontextualize everything. like realizing that he loves her and then thinking back on their relationship, knowing that, makes her feel so held (sorry i have no better way to say it) in a way that just makes her want to cry.

to give some actual specific reasons, it’s his dedication and his constancy and hidden care/softness. and his very specific brand of... selflessness might be just left of the word i’m looking for, but hopefully you get me.

Bold, shy, or mixed?: neither! in theory it’s closer to bold, but it’s more just earnest.

What were their first impressions of each other?: disastrous. on top of finding him condescending and unpleasant, there are also a few moments where veronica genuinely wonders whether he’s even a good person. or, like, cares about people. but once she learns the truth of things, a lot of her initial anger gets transferred to rebecca.

adam, with the benefit of knowing what’s actually happening, has a slightly more favorable impression of veronica. yes he thinks she’s difficult and reckless and too emotionally driven, yes she’s making his job absolutely miserable, but he does begrudgingly respect that her accusations are always on the right track and she’s good at her job.

What do they find attractive about each other, mentally or physically?:

for veronica: she loooves his sense of humor. and how much faith he has in the people he cares about. physically, dimples <3. but everything about his smile really. and his nose!

for adam: veronica has a very blunt, unadorned sense of kindness to her that he really loves. the way she is kind before she is nice and values directness. physically, her eyes, they’re deep brown and so expressive.

What do they do to spend time together?: they’re both competitive so anything where they can compete on the same team is fun. (competing against each other is fun too, but also like. exhausting. for them and everyone.) maybe puzzles or other things where it feels like they’re “winning” or solving something together. i have spent an embarrassing amount of thought on veronica and overw*tch esp*rts and she would absolutely make adam learn how to play main tank so they could queue as a tank duo. but most of the time i think they don’t Do specific things together; they just hang out. just talk with each other. perhaps snuggle.

What is their favorite memory together?: in current canon... lol. veronica really just treasures any time adam relaxes around her but those moments always get Ruined. even once they’re well into a relationship, i think veronica’s favorite memory would still be something small like a random time he said something funny and they both laughed together and they were outside and the sky was pretty.

What are their love languages?: acts of service for both of them, but especially adam. veronica... probably lots of words of affirmation and physical touch. they’re both bad at blocking out time for themselves in the first place, so quality time can get neglected especially at first.

How do they handle being apart from one another?: pretty well i think! once they’re in an established relationship at least, before that it’s probably harder. but adam can distract himself with work, and veronica is good at focusing on whatever’s in front of her (whether that’s work or she’s away on vacation or something). if neither of them is too busy, veronica calls every night and they stay on a while, half talking and half just keeping each other company.

Do they argue? How do they handle arguments and disagreements? How do they make up?: i think arguments are fairly rare! yes they’re both insanely stubborn, but they also understand each other pretty well (especially once in a relationship) and are very sympathetic to where the other is coming from. unless both of them are extremely stressed, one of them crumbles when they start genuinely arguing like "i don't want to fight ok, let's take a second."

What does their future look like?: who knows! i haven’t decided whether veronica will turn. i think she probably will, just because i do not want my main pairing for this IF to make me very sad all the time, but like. i’m not fully committing until i see a reason pop up in canon. as of book 3′s final demo, it’s not on her radar at all; she knows she loves adam and wishes they could Talk, but ultimately doesn’t expect or even want a relationship right now (because she doesn’t want to deal with dating one of rebecca’s agents OR with the logistics of being in a committed relationship with an immortal being). it’s just all so foreign to her current state of mind that it’s really hard to say!

Anything else you'd like to share: do you know how hard it was to answer some of these considering veronica wasn’t sure they were even, like, on decent terms for such a large portion of the canon content

BEST FRIEND RELATIONSHIP

Best friend: morgan and farah are essentially joint besties but i’ll go with M

Why them?: i think they appreciate each other’s no bullshit attitude. morgan likes that veronica doesn’t take herself too seriously and respects/relates to the way she tackles problems (quickly, head-on, and without complaint but also without pretending that it doesn’t suck?). veronica appreciates morgan’s bluntness, likes bantering with her, and in general just likes being around people that have quiet/steady presences.

What were their first impressions of each other?: neither of them had much of a first impression honestly. morgan barely thought of veronica at all beyond “she’s annoying,” and kept to herself so much that any dislike veronica had of morgan took a backseat to her dealing with the rest of unit bravo.

What do they do to spend time together?: lots of just sitting in the same room and listening to (low volume) music, veronica spends a lot of time hunting for songs morgan might like. morgan is also her go-to sparring/training buddy. and there are semi-frequent movie nights where veronica shows farah her favorite old shitty B movies, and sometimes morgan will tag along just to sit in the room with them or affectionately talk shit.

Anything else you'd like to share: i’ll talk a little about N! obviously veronica and nate respect, trust, and like each other, but she finds him the hardest of UB to connect with. they’re both people who wear their compassion on their sleeves but keep a lot of their hearts/themselves held back, so they just kind of circle each other, especially since like... nate values politeness and is very sweet in how he relates to people, while veronica values directness and is more jokey/lighthearted to put people at ease. idk how well i’m communicating this; as of the book 3 demo it’s getting easier, but their friendship is still newer/more... nebulous? than the others.

OTHER RELATIONSHIPS (Feel free to go in depth!)

Relationship with Rebecca: so strained. veronica has come to terms with rebecca’s absences throughout her childhood, but there’s newer resentment over... a lot of things, but how she handled the murphy case especially. veronica hates being kept in the dark, and even more than that she hates being rebecca’s priority. it’s difficult to reconcile her childhood and present images of rebecca, and she’s angry that rebecca is so freely and recklessly choosing her, now, to the point of endangering others if she has to, especially when she never felt like rebecca’s choice before. and incredibly frustrated/confused by how often the lines between their professional and familial relationships are blurred and what rebecca actually wants from her.

Relationship with Rook: veronica takes after rook a lot. in stat terms, the only trait they don’t share is stoic, and even then that’s veronica’s least extreme stat. people always told her how like her father she was growing up, and it’s a comparison she took/takes a lot of pride in! she looks up to him based on the stories, but more recently is uncomfortable with the comparisons. veronica would never have even come back to wayhaven if her life panned out as planned, let alone become a detective or joined the agency. that makes her doubt herself, and she feels like that doubt is letting rook down somehow.

rook is also part of the reason her relationship with rebecca isn’t as bad as it could be. she knows that rook loved her, and that he would want his family to be there for each other, so she feels obligated to at least try to make things better. but it’s really hard for her to move past everything to connect with rebecca (which also makes her feel like she’s disappointing rook).

Relationship with Bobby: they were together for a long time and veronica thought she loved him a lot! it was her first relationship, so she wasn’t sure a) what a “bad partner” looked like, or b) how to even be in a relationship or rely on someone in that way. so they spent a lot of time together and had great superficial chemistry, but veronica didn’t have enough experience with not feeling neglected to realize how shallow it was, or notice the red flags when she did occasionally open up. the plagiarism fiasco was a slap in the face, especially because it cost her internships/grad school apps/whatever, i don’t have the details, and forced her to move back to wayhaven after school. she’s still very hurt by it and finds it hard to be around bobby.

Relationship with Verda: due to the above plagiarism fiasco, veronica was pretty depressed when she moved back home, and disliking her job didn’t help. she was extremely jealous when verda was hired and wanted to hate him. but it did not take long for that to crumble into respect/admiration, and eventually into close friendship! verda is a role model for her; they bond over science; they joke easily and have good chill fun. she was really excited to see him piecing together the truth about the supernatural and then devastated to see how he reacted. she feels insanely guilty and thinks it was selfish of her to let him figure it out, but is also cautiously optimistic about making it up to him as of the book 3 demo.

Relationship with Tina: very close! veronica isolated herself when she came back to wayhaven after school, and she is so grateful to tina for being her closest friend and link to the rest of the world during that time. hates keeping the supernatural from her, though. she didn’t like lying to tina to begin with, but she feels even worse about it now that verda knows, and now that tina has clearly picked up on something being wrong but she still can’t say anything.

Relationship with the Mayor: cannot stand him. hates the way he talks about rook, hates the way he talks to rebecca. she cooperates as necessary but doesn’t bother hiding her lack of patience/respect for him.

Relationship with Capt. Sung: basically fine. i think veronica might be a little too casual for him in the way she works, but she always gets the job done so he’s not too bothered by it. (she is ‘bend the rules,’ but more ‘strict rules aren’t important as long as you’re still doing good work’ than the ‘boooo fuck paperwork’ variety. so it’s mostly fine.) she also appreciates him as a minor link to rook.

Relationship with Haley: very friendly, but not super close. they get along great and could make pleasant conversation for hours, but ultimately don’t know each other super well despite the familiarity of growing up together.

Relationship with Elidor: such a comforting presence for veronica during her recovery! she is so grateful, so fond.

Relationship with Tapeesa/Vieno: veronica loves vieno’s cranky-yet-friendly vibe and they get along well! not close, but will stop to chat whenever they pass each other.

Relationship with Unit Alpha: loves their energy. always looks forward to the next opportunity to chat with them, and fully supports any harmless dunking on UB even if she rarely joins in.

Relationship with the Maa-alused: going through the house of mirrors and then coming home for them to appear in her apartment and infect bobby was one of thee worst experiences of her life, and it’s hard for her to get past that + the illness in general. sympathizes with them, and got them to sign the treaty, but is still kind of unsettled by everything that happened and by falk.

Do they have any other important relationships, past or present? (Relatives, friends, etc.?): some vague figures i have in mind but no one i’ve really developed. a couple friends from college, and maybe an elderly couple that lives on her childhood street and used to check in her.

PERSONAL BIO

Describe their personality: her usual demeanor is very warm and casual. sincere but private--she’s pretty blunt and likes to be direct with people, but steers conversations away from personal topics. likes to joke around and doesn’t take herself that seriously. but behind all this, she’s extremely stubborn and won’t shy away from conflict if she thinks you’re in the wrong (which is why she seems like a different person in the first half of book 1. UB is surprised by how like... chill and nice she is once they clear the air). a workaholic, self-reliant and secure but still pretty hard on herself, takes a lot of responsibility for the people around her.

Strengths: so dedicated. honest and trustworthy, has a strong moral compass and can always be counted on to do her absolute best. flexible and intuitive, her brain works really fast.

Weaknesses: cannot compartmentalize or separate herself from a case, throws herself so recklessly into everything (in terms of both physical danger and emotional burnout). doesn’t necessarily hold grudges but has a hard time letting go of hurt, still can’t think objectively about bobby or rebecca.

Where in the world is their Wayhaven?: somewhere on the US east coast idk what to tell you. perhaps a carolina or a virginia.

What is their personal history?: veronica was pretty social and well-liked around wayhaven growing up. she was known as just a really good kid; she was an overachiever and got along with almost anyone. in college, she felt like she was free of something and took a very work hard/play hard approach to life. always doing or going, whether it was for school or work or fun. she really enjoyed life during this time but crashed and burned pretty hard when she and bobby broke up; a lot of her plans were delayed until the plagiarism incident was resolved and she didn’t really have the heart to pursue them afterwards.

a year or so after graduating, she returned to wayhaven with the intention of taking one more year to regroup, and she has been stuck there longer than she meant to be and has kind of hit a wall when book 1 starts.

If they weren't a detective, what would their dream job be?: she was on track to become a biochemist and it was her dream job but then the main plot happened to her.

Anything else you'd like to share: i don’t really know enough to fully explain this, but no OC i love is a cop so like. i think maybe the job she took when she got back to wayhaven was a douglas-esque receptionist role for detective reele’s private office. then reele retired and small town politics + veronica’s history of useful contributions to cases in her downtime at work led to her being pressured to take up the mantle. it’s hard to explain why she’s a detective when she so deeply does not want to be one but i am Trying (or maybe she would have jumped at the chance to do something marginally closer to forensics?? who knows)

RANDOM FACTS

Zodiac sign: aries is what i assigned her when i first made her and i think it suits her! plus it’d be fun for her and M to be twins. this goes hand-in-hand with my birthday commitment issues though

Hobbies: music (she plays guitar and bass and sings a little), running, gaming unfortunately. i could also see her having been into boxing or some martial art but idk what exactly!

Likes: early morning stillness, DIY projects, t-shirts with inexplicable slogans and other weird thrift store finds

Dislikes: overly sweet food or drink, when cold weather lasts too long, being lied to or “protected” from the truth

Drink of choice: something with gin maybe. also feels a great fondness and gratitude for cheap wine.

Starbucks order: i truly know nothing about coffee. is it weird to order black coffee at starbucks

Favorite food: variations on spicy chicken soup! she eats a lot of crockpot meals for convenience and they’ve grown on her, and she has a few different recipes based on whatever she has on hand.

Favorite color: maybe like a rusty orange

Favorite music: she will listen to anything, but her favorite is probably folk rock, or sometimes stuff with soul or old school country vibes. big thief is a good example of an artist she’d be into i think! also was very into the indie music scene in her college town and still follows some of those bands.

Favorite genre (and favorite movie/book/etc): loves old, campy, unselfconsciously optimistic sci-fi. loves star trek tos. also a fan of documentaries of all kinds.

Favorite season: summer

Anything else you'd like to share: a kiss for you reading this mwah

[accomplice-tendou]

Chapter Nine

𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝘃𝗲

At least he gave me my car back.

After a somewhat normal day at work the following afternoon, you walk back to your car. However, instead of parking it in your normal spot, it's parked further in a less populated area since technically your car was stolen. You subconsciously begin to have a small debate with yourself about the man who turned your world sideways over the course of a few days as you continue on your walk.

He doesn't seem like a bad guy. Maybe letting him bribe me with nice things isn't such a bad idea. Wow, I definitely sound horrible saying that.

Once you get home, you unlock the door and set down your keys. Once your eyes glance over to the room your jaw practically drops to the ground. Labeled cardboard boxes litter your floor. It looks as though someone's moving in... or out.

"Hello?" you nervously call out to anyone who may be in your apartment, "T-Tendou?"

"Ah shit... one second!" his voice calls from the other room.

A minute later the tall man enters your line of vision.

"Hey Y/N what's up!" he brightly calls out to you.

"What's going on here?" you ask skeptically as you watch him place down another box that seems to be filled.

"Well first of all I'm pretty sure I told you to call me Satori but I'm just helping you move out!"

"Move out? What the hell are you talking about!"

Tendou makes his way over to your kitchen as he avoids answering your question. Your eyes quickly dart to the gun on the counter in the same spot as usual.

"You see, I'm packing your stuff so you can move in with me!" he beams as he picks up yet another cardboard box.

"Why do I have to do that?" you huff, "Won't it look suspicious if I just up and leave suddenly?"

"Of course it will," he laughs, "very much so."

You groan and make your way over to your couch. Placing your hand on your head you try to dismiss the headache you began to get at the sight of your apartment and thoughts swirling in your brain.

"Ya know Y/N..."

You look up and see Tendou giving you a shit-eating grin from above along with a dramatic pause before he continues his speech.

"You're probably going to be thought of as an accomplice now."

An audible gasp escapes your mouth as Tendou's words ring in your ear. Right away you realize that he's right; you will be thought of as an accessory to the incident at the bank. The detective probably already assumes you erased the video footage and you did lend Tendou your car even though you didn't have much of an option.

"Do I have a choice?" you ask as you look at him in a somewhat pleading expression.

Although you didn't enjoy your life before you met this man, you can't help but wonder if it's a wise decision to go with him.

"Not reaaally," he admits, "my friends aren't too keen about you yet so-"

"You don't have to threaten me," you sigh, "I'll do it. I can't really think of a reason not to."

As you began mentally listing out the pros and cons of going with Tendou, you realized there isn't much downfall so long as you don't get caught. As much as you hate to admit it, seeing as it may be a weakness, you don't feel as though the man standing before you would hurt you.

"There you go!" he beams, "Now you don't have to go back to that shitty ass job!"

"Hey come on that was a low blow," you pout.

"Oh, uh, s-"

"I'm just kiddin' Satori calm down!" you laugh, "That job was the worst."

Tendou lets out a loud sigh before taking a seat beside you.

"Man, Y/N, you really had me going for a second there," he says before taking a dramatic deep breath.

"So your place, huh?"

"Yep," he hums as he slouches down a bit, "So it shouldn't be all bad with a roommate, right?"

As Tendou looks over at you with his grin, you can't help a weird feeling in your stomach. You let out a quick nod before abruptly stopping as you notice that you're closer than you would like to be with someone who's bribing and threatening you, but you can't help but feel as though you're... enjoying it.

Tendou puts a hand on your chin and gently tilts your head up to look at him. You do your best to look away and avoid the heat rising to your cheeks. You long to feel his lips press against your own but find yourself confused if your feelings are wrong.

"Good."

The next morning you begin unpacking your things into Tendou's house. From the moment you arrived, you were nothing but stunned at how nice his place was. On the outside, it seems just like a normal home but within was a completely different story.

When you walk inside you're greeted with tall mint walls, new wooden flooring, and a white false ceiling. Your jaw practically dropped to see the furnishings were well matched and gave the room a comforting feeling even though it was large in size.

"Wow, this is really your place?" you ask as you step down into the sunken living room.

"What do you think? You like it?" he asks with a hint of worry in his tone.

Does he actually care if I like it or not?

"Y-Yeah it's really nice..." you trail off as you look around.

"Come on," Tendou grunts as he indicates to the box full of clothes that he's carrying, "let me show you to your room."

Tendou leads you to the second floor of the house and down the hall into an already furnished room.

I guess that's why we didn't take much of my crappy furniture. This is way nicer!

"Alright there ya go," Tendou breathes as he drops the box he was carrying onto your already made bed, "Well I'll leave you to it. I might come in a couple times for the other boxes but I'll mainly be downstairs. Call me if you need anything alright?"

"Sure," you nod half-heartedly as you look around the big room.

Your new room is very clean looking despite the number of pillows, blankets, furniture, and plants that Tendou had filled it with. You're extremely impressed at the way he was able to pull off something that suited your style even though he's only been to your house a few times.

Oh god, what if he's been to my house more times than I know of?! He wouldn't do that, would he?

Once you've done most of your unpacking you decide to go downstairs to check on your new roommate. However, as you descend the stairs you hear the doorbell ring and Tendou running to answer it.

"U-Uh what are you guys doing here?" Tendou answers the door in a hushed voice.

"What the fuck are you talking about we're here because you never told us what you're going to do with-"

"Shhh, shut up!"

"What's wrong?" a different voice asks, "Shirabu was just asking what you planned on doing with the girl."

Your hand immediately shoots up to your mouth, trying to prevent any noises from escaping as you internally break down.

Oh my god, they were going to do something horrible to me...

"Man you talk so damn loud," you hear Tendou groan, "Y/N is staying with me now so you gotta keep your voices down!"

"Staying with you?" a third voice interrupts, "What's wrong with you?"

You hear a slap followed by a low groan from Tendou. You then hear a bit of mumbling that you can't quite make out.

"Y/N, darling, I know you're listening can you come out here please? It's not nice to eavesdrop," Tendou's voice says gently.

For a moment you hesitate whether you should go out or not. Nevertheless, you end up slowly walking down the rest of the steps and around the corner where you find six tall men staring at you.

One of them, who you already know as Tendou, wears an extremely proud grin on his face as he extends his arm out towards you.

Another with what seems to be dark green hair has an intimidating expression but looks at you as if you've done something despicable to him.

Three others stare at you with unreadable expressions as if they're still processing the fact that you're standing before them.

The last, wearing a bowl cut, has his mouth hanging wide open as he follows your every move.

You walk over to Tendou reluctantly until your standing at his side. He then begins to introduce you to the men before you.

"The pokerface looking guy is Miracle Boy!" Tendou begins as he points to the green-haired male.

However, the 'Miracle Boy' tells you that his real name is Ushijima.

"And this is SemiSemi," Tendou points to the ash blonde beside Ushijima who wasn't giving any real expression until now.

"It's just Semi," he barks back while narrowing his eyes at Tendou.

"Yeah, yeah, anyway next we've got Benkei," he says as he moves on to the next male sporting an undercut.

You're taken back for a moment as the male addressed to you as 'Benkei' begins smiling. He offers out his hand for you to shake and says that his real name is Reon.

"Nice to meet you," you smile back.

"Anwaaay," Tendou interrupts, "Now we've got-"

"Shut up and don't give me any ridiculous nickname," intervenes the male with uneven hair, "I'm Shirabu."

Lastly, Tendou introduces you to "the little genius with the cool hair," who bows before telling you that his real name is Goshiki.

After making your own introduction, a slight pause fills the air until Ushijima bluntly interrupts it.

"So did you talk to the cop."

The whole group freezes up as they look towards Ushijima. You feel your body become stiff as his icy glare pierces your soul.

"U-Uh w-well," you stutter out as you begin to notice the rest of the men awaiting your answer.

"No," you finally speak boldly, "Of course not!"

If this is going to be my life now, I can't just let these guys push me around.

"Besides," you scoff as you look straight back at Ushijima, "I up and left my home. I'm part of this now too!"

Ushijima only nods in response. However, you notice a few of the others' faces become more relaxed.

Shirabu lets you know that he's glad you feel that way while giving you a firm nod and Reon lets you know that he's happy to have you on board.

Tendou gives you a side hug and pulls you in closer to him. You let out a small gasp but do your best to keep the heat rising in your face to a minimum as the other men observe the interaction.

"Hell yeah! I've got the best accomplice!"

[almost-correct-bnha-quotes]

hai, so this bish cut her own hair, the layers look good tbh bUT the fringe is too short (fml) so i thought if you dont mind, if you're free, maybe hcs of izuku/todoroki/kirishima on that? please? (i already cried three times because my family bullied me about the fringe and i feel like jim carrey from dumb and dumber tho its actlly not that short)

Hi! I'd love to do this! I'm really sorry your family is so mean to you. Try not to let it get to your heart. I hope this helps you feel better!

Izuku

-He knew you wanted to try a new, shorter haircut for a while.

-To be honest, he was really supportive. If you really wanted to try a new haircut, you should go for it.

-When you shared your worries that it might not turn out well, he was quick to reassure you.

-"Hey, there's nothing that can go bad. If you don't like how it turns out, it's fine. Your hair will grow back in a few months," he told you.

-So one particular Saturday, in the U.A. dorms, you went for it. While the layers were fine, you didn't like how short that the fringe turned out.

-You were low-key stressing out since you had to go to school in two days. Hair was going to grow back in a few months, not a few hours.

-So you did the most logical thing- you called Izuku and asked him to come to your bedroom urgently.

-Within two minutes, you heard knocking on hour door, along with Izuku's worried voice asking you to let him in.

-You didn't specify what the emergency was, so Izuku and his anxious brain only assumed for the worst. What if you accidentally cut off your leg, or broke an arm, or got stuck under the wardrobe that fell on you...

-You opened your door just enough for a person to fit through it and pulled Izuku rapidly inside of your bedroom. As soon as he was inside, you slammed the door shut.

-"Eh, Y/N... What-"

- That's when he noticed your hair.

- You puffed your cheeks as you looked through your wardrobe. You eventually picked out two caps that you really loved.

- "Which one should I wear to school?" You asked.

- "Wel- I- You- Um- You- You don't have to wear one, though. I know that your hair didn't turn out the way you wanted, but it doesn't mean it's ugly. Quite the opposite. You look really nice with it. It would be a shame if others wouldn't get to see it."

-Saying that both of you turned as red as a tomato was an underestimation.

-Regardless, he did make you feel better and, as it turns out, your new hairstyle truly wasn't so bad. Many appreciated it and you actually started a trend amongst girls to cut their hair similar to you in order to be "fashionable".

Todoroki

-You never considered yourself close to Todoroki, but you acknowledged the fact that you did have a particularly strong bond with him.

-It wasn't romantic- it was more like a sibling relationship. You would tease and annoy each other a lot, but when one was in need, the other would always have their back.

-That's why he was the first person you called for comfort one evening. You cut your hair earlier that afternoon and a few students made some really rough comments on it.

-It wasn't that you weren't confident or happy with yourself, but words still hurt and the comments you recieved truly upset you.

-As you sat on your bed in your dorm, trying to cope with your suffering, you heard a knock on your door.

-You honestly hoped it was Todoroki. You called him a solid fifteen minutes ago and he had yet to fulfill your wish to come and be by your side for a while. You didn't dare to go out and look for him. Not with that hairstyle you had.

- "Hey Y/N... I'm here." The person behind the door said. Their voice was so familiar you wouldn't be able to mistake it for anyone else's- Todoroki was there.

-You mumbled something about how he could come in, but for obvious reasons, he couldn't understand what you said.

- "Hey, dickhead, I can't hear you. Open up. I brought you something."

-Your head shot up in curiosity. You wiped off a few tears off your face and made your way to the door.

-You opened it and found yourself standing in front of Todorki, who had a small bag by his side.

- "Surprise. Sorry it took me so long, I had to make a stop by the store nearby."

- You invited him in and soon found yourself laying on the bed, your head on his lap, crying your eyes out. His hand ran through your hair in an attempt to comfort and relax you.

-Honestly, it did.

- "Don't stress so much about it. You had a mild error in the process. It'll get fixed soon." He said.

- "Yeah, but until then..." You said between sobs.

- "You'll live your life like always. Try to enjoy the small things. Buy your favourite candy, sweet or desert. Try some make-up. Buy that t-shirt you've wanted for a while. Do whatever. It'll get better before you know."

- "How can you know so much?"

- "Experience," Todoroki shrugged, "Had to accept I can't change some things and how to live with that."

- "Like what?"

-"Shitty father... Half a quirk I don't want... and ugly hair."

- You frowned lightly as a snort escaped you.

- "You don't like your hair?" You asked.

- "Well, everyone seems to have a very good opinion of my hair... except for me. Can't say it's my favourite part of me."

- "Why do you hate it? It's unique."

- "My father has an unique style of parenting, but it's not good, is it?"

- You pursed your lips at the thought of his father. You generally weren't the one to fully dislike someone or to say that you hated someone, but Endeavor was one of the exceptions. Outside his work as a hero, Endeavor was a horrible person, in your opinion. He failed spectacularly as a husband and even more as a father.

- “Your hair is not a toxic father.”

- “And neither is yours. Your hair isn’t that big of a fail. A little unsuccessful, yes, but terrible? No. You’re beautiful.’

Kirishima

-Kirishima couldn’t say your hairwas the most successful hairstyle out there, but he knew the struggles of hair insecurity, so he couldn’t help but feel empathy towards you.

-As it turned out, you two were living only two streets apart, so you had most of the way home together. You became buddies in no time and you’d chat all the way home with all kinds of topics that interested you. One particular afternoon, you opened up to him about your new hairstyle.

- “It’s okay, Y/N!” He exclaimed, “Your hair will grow back in no time and you’ll be able to redo your haistyle!”

-You smiled faintly. “Thanks. It’s gonna be quite a road until then. My family’s kinda rude to me about it as well.”

-Kirishima let out an empathetic laugh. “I had that as well when I changed my hairstyle. My mom was kinda supportive, but everyone else... nah. The thing is, don’t let other people’s opinions bring you down. You’ll get judged no matter what you do, so you should best just do what you really want to do and be yourself.”

-That was some solid advice. When you thought about it, it truly didn’t matter what people thought. Even if something you did turned bad, you had to try again and again until it succeded. Otherwise, you would remain with the sour feeling of misery that would do nothing but bad to you.

[bapyess1r]

Amphetamine

WARNINGS: use of substance, alcohol, difference in ages, cursing

INTRO

“Florida fucking sucks….” Marcel stated plainly, taking a long drag of his joint, holding out for me to take. He rubbed his calloused fingers over his close cut hair before gently gliding them over the strings of the bass in his lap. I could hear the static in the speaker and a singular fat bass note. I ash my cigarette in the dirty crystal ashtray before picking up the joint for a small hit, immediately passing it to the piano player, Jules. She played a few random chords and took a sip from her wine glass.

“I think you just miss your boyfriend.” She chuckled taking a long drag from the shared joint.

“T.B.H so do I….” Our drummer Louie whined, letting a stick hit the snare with no particular rhythm whatsoever. I was confused...as hell.

“I’m sorry- boyfriend?” I said in a shocked tone.

“Shut up guys- Talia. I am NOT- capital N. O. T- gay. He’s like my best friend and he’s away on a job.” Marcel retorted, defensively.

“Aye, I don’t judge.” I smirked.

“It’s nice that he left you the keys to the house so we could keep practicing in his absence though.” Louie said, standing up to add to the rotation of the smoke sesh. He took several puffs and held it in before passing it back to Marcel.

“THIS ISNT EVEN- this isn’t even your house??” I noticed how loudly I was speaking suddenly and hushed my voice trying my best to not annoy the neighbors anymore than we already had.

“Our guitarist we told you about. Sam Drake? He plays with us on his downtime when he’s not being Dora.” Jules said, filling me in as the men in our group chose not to elaborate. I pursed my lips to suppress what I thought was about to be the ugliest giggle and took a drag from my cigarette, looking out at the moonlit sky reflecting off the ocean behind the gating. Our neighbors boats rocking gently on the waves. “When do you think he’ll be back?” She asked.

“Honestly I don’t know. Anytime he leaves out for a job he’s gone for like a month or two.” Marcel replied, staring at the ceiling, performing his scales.

“Yo one time he was gone longer than that- like four months- and I thought something shitty happened to him.” Louie said, taking a sip of his beer.

“I remember that. I got a bad feeling and actually went to church for once to pray about it.” Jules sighed, taking a big gulp of her wine. I could tell it really worried the group when he left.

“How long has he been gone?” I asked, being new to the band and the neighborhood.

“Close to a month I think. I heard him mention something about this job not being as big as usual. Simple run.” Louie answered.

“What the hell does this guy do anyways?” I asked. I was genuinely curious.

“He says he’s a travelling historian and treasurer.” Marcel huffed.

“See… Dora the Explorer.” Jules nudged me in the ribs and I snorted lightly.

“I can’t wait till he hears you sing when he gets back though. He’s gonna lose shit. Black Velvet is gonna make him weak.” Marcel cheesed ridiculously as I blushed faintly at his compliment. The bud was definitely hitting him hard. ‘Lightweight.’ I thought with a turn of my lips.

As the blunt came my way once more, I took the final drag of my cigarette and tossed it somewhere random. I accepted the joint and sat on the speaker facing the group, the close quarters of the garage becoming smokey. “Speaking of, when’s the next time we play?”

“We perform every weekend from the garage for the neighborhood actually. All the old leather skinned white men and their wives come out beer and wine drunk and dance terribly.” He replied with a smirk.

“It’s AWESOME!” Louie added with a contagious goofy laugh. I looked at the bottle of whiskey and huffed, holding it up for everyone to see.

“You’re outta booze. Also I gotta pee.” I announced unnecessarily.

“Just grab a bottle outta freezer. And the bathroom is the first door on your right.” Marcel nodded his head in the direction of the keys that sat atop the heavy duty toolbox.

“Are you sure he won’t mind?” I asked. I just wanted to be safe.

“If he does, I’ll buy him a few rounds and a new bottle.” he answered nonchalantly.

“Okaaay….” I mouthed to myself as I maneuvered my way through the crowded garage, reaching for the keys.

  I walked up the wooden steps and opened the door to a dark room. The faint scent of old cigarette smoke and cologne creeping through my nostrils. A wall of books from ceiling to floor appeared in the moonlight. Immediately my curiosity peaked but the slight sting in my bladder told me to go before anything else. I noticed the frames lining the hallway contained what looked like really old maps. ‘Madagascar, huh?’ I thought as I shuffled into the bathroom to quickly relieve myself. Afterwards, I very quickly washed my hands so I could grab the whiskey from the freezer in the kitchen when I tripped over something really hard. I squeaked in pain when I looked down to see a large oxygen tank like the kind they used to do deep sea diving. I shook it off but my toe still felt a bit sore. It could've been worse had I not been wearing boots. So onward to the kitchen I went, looking down now and then to make sure I didn’t trip over anything else. The space was built just like my Godfather’s across the street so it was easy to find. HOWEVER! As hard as I tried to not pay attention to the things in the living room, it was to no avail. I mean he wasn’t home so what harm could I really do? After a few seconds of a mental argument with Me, Myself, and I, I made a decision. “Fuck it. I’m doin’ it.” I muttered to myself as I slammed the freezer door closed. That’s when I noticed the square polaroid on the fridge of two children in a shogun helmet and a safari hat. ‘Maybe they’re his…’ I thought.

  I followed the glass window to the wall of books and in between them what looked to be some strange artifacts. A skull with a corny pirates patch on it was being used as a bookend and I chuckled. “Cute.” I glanced around the living room and noticed the small box tv sitting ridiculously close to the couch and a few old gaming consoles and low and behold.... “Is that a goddamn VCR player???” I whispered to myself with a judgey scoff.  ‘Jesus he needs an update…’ Not that they weren’t great systems but damn… On the coffee table were a few empty cigarette cartons and empty bottles of beer, a bit of ash dragged across it. A tall surfboard was stood in a corner by its lonesome. The walls were adorned with a couple of interesting things: an old liferaft, mounted pirate swords, some pictures of a group of people holding guns and stuff. “Kay...so he’s a tad obsessed with pirates…” On another wall was a mounted blue electric guitar and a beautiful oakwood acoustic. I ran my fingers across the strings as they made an odd sound. “Tune that shit man… well I guess he can't…” ‘He’s not home…’ There was also a massive map of the world posted on a pinboard with hundreds of tiny colorful pins sporadically placed. ‘Did he really go to all these places?’ I stared at it for a moment in sheer wonder before I brought my attention back to the book wall before me, the whiskey bottle in my hand beginning to sweat. My eyes widened at the titles as my fingers brushed the spines of each one, stopping when I reached an old globe. I drug my fingers across it, causing it to spin a little. I stopped on an encyclopedia of pirates and gently pulled it out. Tucking the wet bottle in my arm, I turned its pages. Some names highlighted, cliff notes off to the side of some passages. Some corners of the pages were bent as if to save a place. Honestly, it was amazing. The guy knew so much about-

“What the hell are you doin’?!” A deep irate voice sounded, startling me. The glass bottle fell from my arms shattering to the hardwood floor as I squealed.

[kohanayaki]

Caught in the Middle (Steve Harrington x Reader x Billy Hargrove) Ch 3

Links: Ch 1   Ch 2   Ch 3  Ch 4  Ch 5  Ch 6   Ch 7

______________________________________________________

Ch 3 .:An Eventful Evening:.

The rest of the week went by in a flash. You adjusted pretty quickly to your new school, and you were starting to make some new friends as well. After the whole basketball-to-the-face incident you found yourself talking to Steve more. He always made you laugh during your classes together and his friends were fun to hang out with too. You started eating lunch with their group and they welcomed you in like you'd been friends with them all your life.

However, there was someone else who slowly started to weasel his way into your daily life:

Billy Hargrove. 

He'd let up on the flirting at least a little bit, but he still insisted on trying to talk to you. At first you were tempted to tell him exactly where he could shove it, but your mind drifted back to what you saw at his house. Of course his circumstances were no excuse for his behavior, but you gave him less shit than you normally would. He seemed to notice this, too, taking it as an opening to talk to you since you weren't shutting him down every five seconds. 

It started off as him simply asking to borrow a pencil in class. You both knew he didn't need one, but you entertained him anyways. His usual flirty comments became something you got used to, and after a few days you actually found yourself looking forward to his stupid jokes in math class and the witty banter you two shared. 

Turns out whenever he wasn't around his family or his shitty friends, the Keg King could actually be a decent person to hang out with. Still, you made sure to keep your distance. You knew if you let your guard down for a second you'd end up making the same bad decisions it always came to with guys like him. 

Nonetheless, the week flew by, and by the time Saturday night came around you were ready to knock out in your bed the second you stepped foot in your house.

“Dad, we're home!” Kyle called up the stairs. 

“Hey kids,” your dad smiled, peeking his head out of the office before making his way down to the living room, “How was your day?”

“Pretty good,” Kyle said.

“I'm going to sleep,” you answered tiredly. 

“Um, actually, (Y/n), we're going to Tina's to study for the Biology test, remember?” Kyle said.

'Shit,' you thought. You completely forgot about the party.

“A test after just the first week of school?” your dad questioned.

“Uh, yeah, accelerated courses and all that,” Kyle said unconvincingly.

You wanted to slam your head into the door frame.

Your dad rose a suspicious brow and nodded slowly.

“Well, you better wait at least an hour after you finish 'studying' before you drive back,” he called over his shoulder.

Kyle groaned, he knew he was busted. 

“You know I don't mind you two having fun so long as you're safe,” your dad said, “Just remember-”

“No crank, no speed, no heroin,” you and Kyle spoke in tandem. 

“That's right,” your dad said proudly, walking back up the stairs, “Have fun, kids! Be home by 2:00. I'll be up working tonight, so I will know if you're out late.”

“Alright, dad,” you grinned. Once he disappeared back into his office you turned to your brother.

“Nice acting, Macchio,” you rolled your eyes.

“Hey, it was worth a shot,” Kyle said. 

“Are you seriously making me stay for that stupid party?” you sighed, already knowing the answer.

“I'm offended you'd think I'd let you off that easy,” your brother smirked. 

You groaned, flopping down on the couch. 

“You seriously need to go out tonight,” Kyle said, “you'll start growing mushrooms if you stay inside any longer.”

You shot him a half-glare and sighed. Guess there really was no chance of a relaxing evening for you tonight. 

You were able to at least sneak in a half hour nap before you had to make your way upstairs to get ready. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you reached behind your record player to take out your Pyromania vinyl, Rock of Ages playing as you placed the needle down. 

You brushed out your hair, teasing a few pieces on top to give yourself some volume and setting it with a few puffs of hairspray. You kept your t shirt on to be comfy but changed out of your jeans, opting for a black skirt instead. You used a ponytail to tie your shirt behind you, making it cinch in at the waist. At the last minute you decided to put on some burgundy lipstick; If you were going to be forced out of the house you were going to look damn good at the least.

As you bounded down the stairs you saw your brother already waiting by the door.

“Took you long enough,” Kyle said playfully.

“Watch it,” you said, “I can still drop your ass in the middle of the street and make you walk the rest of the way.”

He laughed, opening the door for you as you got your keys out of your bag.

“I can't go too crazy tonight,” you said as you got into the driver's seat, “I'm driving the kids to Starcourt tomorrow morning.”

“You might have to carry me to the car then, because my plans for tomorrow exclusively include sleeping, so I'm going to get wasted,” Kyle said. 

You shook your head as you laughed, the engine of your car roaring to life. Kyle gave you the address to Tina's house and you drove off into the night. 

You knew Kyle was looking forward to the party, probably more so to talk to this Tina girl, but you were still a little wary. It wasn't as if the place would be swarming with people who liked you. Tommy and Carol were bound to be there whether Tina invited them or not, and most of the people at Hawkins High who knew you in middle school didn't even remember your name. On the upside, it gave you a relatively clean slate to work with. You were pretty much known as the new girl with the cool car that hung out with Steve, and you were just fine with that.

You could hear the music from the party before Tina's house even came into view. When you finally pulled up to her driveway you could tell you were in for a night. Every floor of her house was filled with people, and you could hear yelling coming from her back yard. One couple had their tongues down each others throats under the tree in front of her house, the stragglers nearby too busy throwing up in the street to notice.

As you opened the door to the house you had to practically fight your way inside. There was hardly any space to walk, and it's not like the drunken people you were trying to get around were particularly aware of their surroundings. 

When you and Kyle finally managed to get to the makeshift bar in the kitchen you took a moment to breathe, grateful to get your personal space back.

“Is this what you wanted?” you laughed.

“Absolutely,” Kyle grinned as he mixed you a Jack and coke, “This is our chance to go crazy and be the stupid teenagers we were always meant to be. You got way too straight-laced in New York. It's time to be a little less responsible.”

He handed you the drink he made and you accepted it, caving in. 

“I'm supposed to be the responsible one,” you said, taking a sip, “You know, to make sure you don't end up in jail.”

He only shrugged, downing a shot of tequila. You looked around for a bit; it was relatively low energy for how many people there were. 

“Hey, do you know where the music's coming from?” you asked Kyle.

“Boom box in the back,” he said, “Why, not a fan?”

“Just want a change in atmosphere,” you grinned, making your way through the hot, crowded room.

As you reached the deafening source of the party's music you shuffled through the box of cassette tapes next to it. You dug around for a while, reaching the very bottom before pulling out one with a label that made you smile. 

You ejected the old tape, people yelling out as the music suddenly cut. You placed the one you found inside, pressing play and letting the intro riff of Motley Crue's Shout at the Devil ring out through the house. 

The energy of the party was almost instantly cranked up to eleven, a group of drunk jocks starting to scream as they heard the song playing. You watched as they moved outside, competing to see who could hold the longest keg stand. Among them was Billy Hargrove, who you knew would be in attendance to defend his 'Keg King' title. His back was facing you as he braced himself against the keg, pushing himself into a hand stand while he drank from it. You rolled your eyes as the crowd around him went crazy, howling to the sky and pouring beers over their own heads.

As you shifted your attention elsewhere you saw your brother talking to Tina across the room and you smirked to yourself, walking over to grab another drink. You gave him a high five as you passed by and he gave you a thumbs up while Tina wasn't looking. You laughed as he did. Kyle was such a dork, but you still wished him the best. Tina really was a nice girl despite being surrounded by judgmental assholes.

You took a moment to scan the kitchen table which held every brand of cheap alcohol a high school student could think to steal from their parent's liquor cabinet. You reached over to grab a bottle of fireball, pouring some into your solo cup. As you took a sip you felt a familiar burn in your throat, leaving a hot cinnamon flavor behind in your mouth. You topped yourself off before setting your sights on an empty spot on the couch, pushing through the crowd to sit down and hopefully go relatively unbothered. 

“Hey, you're the new girl, right?”

So much for that.

You bit back a sigh as you turned in your seat to see who just sat down next to you. You recognized him from your P.E. class; he was one of the guys on Billy's team. 

“Can I help you?” you stated rather than asked, trying to be polite as possible while shutting this guy down. 

“You certainly can,” he said suggestively, “But don't worry, I'll be sure to help you out in return.”

You grimaced, taking a healthy swig of your drink. This might turn out to be a long night. 

“Listen,” you snapped, “I'm really not in the mood to pretend to be civil right now, so this would be a lot easier if you just slinked back into whatever hole you crawled out of.”

The smirk on his face fell at your words.

“Come on, don't be difficult,” he said, placing a hand on your thigh.

“Hey, watch it,” you glared, moving to swat his hand away. He grabbed your wrist as you did, his hand moving slowly up your thigh. As he leaned into your face you were blasted with the smell of vodka on his breath.

“Let's have some fun, doll~”

You didn't let it go any further than that.

You took one last sip of your drink before throwing the rest of it into his face. He howled in pain, recoiling immediately as the liquor seeped into his eyes.

“You bitch!” he growled, staggering back blindly and trying desperately to find the bathroom.

You scoffed as he stumbled away, looking down at your now empty cup.

“What a waste,” you sighed to yourself.

You heard someone chuckle behind you and you spun around, ready to fend off any other creep who tried to come up to you.

“You're ruthless, sweetheart,” Billy grinned, “33% alcohol to the eyes has to bite. I was planning on being your knight in shining armor, but I guess you had it covered.”

The tension in your shoulders left when you saw who it was, but only slightly. This was still Billy, there was no doubt he'd try something. You were about to make a sarcastic retort when the words got caught in your throat.

You hadn't been able to tell during his keg stand with his back facing you, but underneath that leather jacket of his, there was no shirt to be found. Even in the dim lighting you could see how defined his muscles were. His chest looked like it was sculpted out of stone, his tan skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. 

Billy smirked devilishly as he caught you staring, taking the seat next to you and slinging an arm around the back of the couch, not quite touching your shoulders. 

“See something you like?” he cooed.

You didn't know what came over you, but in that instant a coy smile crept onto your painted lips as you gave him a once over.

“Definitely.”

That caught Billy off guard more than he wanted to admit or let show. This wasn't too far off from the back and forth game you two usually played, but your banter usually consisted of him flirting with you and you teasing him or finding new creative ways to tell him to fuck off. You've never said anything back that even implied reciprocation on your part, so for you to say something like that so outright was a bit of a shock. Never the less he recovered quickly, his usual smirk settling on his face.

“Finally confessing your love?” he joked.

“No,” you said, “This whiskey's just getting to me.” 

A genuine laugh escaped him as you said that, the sound making your heart flutter. He was so close you could feel his hot breath fan across your skin. He dragged his tongue across his lips, an action your eyes followed. If you just leaned forward a few inches you'd be kissing him right now. 

Your eyes widened as the thought went through your mind, immediately shoving it away.

'No. No no no, what the hell, (Y/n)?' you thought frantically, 'You promised yourself you wouldn't get involved with this guy.'

You cursed your heart for beating so fast, almost certain he could hear it pound against your chest. However, you were both snapped out of the moment when you heard someone call out your name. 

“Hey, (Y/n)!”

Your head snapped up, meeting Steve's eyes. He smiled as you did and waved you over. You turned to Billy, feeling mixed emotions.

“Sorry, I should probably, uh. . .” you gestured over to Steve and his friends before getting your bag from the side of the couch. 

“Yeah,” Billy said, biting his lip slightly, “Go ahead.”

You got up from the couch, stopping before you left.

“See you around, Billy,” you said, giving him a small smile.

His heart sped up at your words. It was the first time you'd called him that. Not a sarcastic nickname, not Hargrove, just Billy. 

Billy watched as you walked over to Steve, laughing and giving him a hug. He felt a strange pressure in his chest and his gut twisted into an ugly knot as Steve slung a casual arm around your shoulders. 

He scoffed, downing the rest of his drink and tossing the plastic cup to the side. This wasn't like him at all. He was Billy Hargrove- the Keg King and the school's most infamous playboy. He could get any girl he wanted, except for you, it seemed. 

Why did seeing you with Steve piss him off so much?  As soon as the word 'jealousy' crossed his mind he grit his teeth hard. No. There was no way he was jealous. You weren't his, and even if you were you wouldn't be for long. He had two rules: don't get attached and never fuck the same girl twice. He had a plan as soon as he set foot in this shit hole town: Tough out his last year of school, bang as many chicks as possible, and high tail it back to California as soon as he graduated. Committed relationships were never Billy's forte, and he didn't plan on changing that any time soon. 

At least, that's what he told himself. 

Billy got up from the couch, eyes scanning the party like a predator choosing his prey as he looked for some other girl to take his mind off you. 

Steve's eyes narrowed as he watched Billy stalk off and pulled you in closer to him, whispering in your ear.

“Are you okay?” he asked quietly. 

“Huh? Yeah, I'm fine,” You said. Your cheeks heated up at your proximity, but you were more confused by his question than anything.

“Was Billy bothering you?” Steve asked, more serious than you'd ever seen him before. Your eyes went wide and you shook your head.

“No, we were just talking,” you said, “He wouldn't actually pull anything like the last deadbeat I was talking to. . . Why?”

Steve had a far away look in his eyes as he tried to come up with an answer. What was he supposed to say? 'Oh, well last year that guy smashed a plate over my head, threatened to kill your friend, and had to be taken out with a tranquilizer.'

“Just. . . be careful,” Steve decided on saying, “He isn't a great person.”

You heard the cheering crowd behind you get substantially louder, and you both turned around to see what all the commotion was about, which you regretted pretty fast.

Billy was in the middle of the room, making out with some busty brunette as she gave him a lap dance. He seemed to be enjoying himself a little too much, running his hands through her hair and down body. After a little while the girl whispered something in his ear that made him smirk, take her hand, and start leading her upstairs. It was clear they weren't going to be reading the bible up there. 

“Yeah,” you said to Steve, tearing your eyes away from their retreating figures, “I've noticed.”

Steve pulled his focus from Billy to you. He'd never admit it, but part of him was glad Billy just pulled that little stunt in front of you. He could tell you were disappointed, but he couldn't understand what you saw in Billy. 

After Nancy, Steve didn't know if he'd be able to trust people when it came to relationships. His heart was broken in a single, drunken confession. But you seemed so different from the other girls. Not really in an outward way, but you weren't afraid to be yourself. You had an energy and confidence that drew people to you, even if you didn't think so. 

At first he just thought you'd be another girl who'd reject him right away at Scoops- another tally in the 'You Suck' column. But you'd stuck around and made an actual effort to be friends with him, and not just to get popular but because you actually wanted to get to know him. That in itself was pretty rare for Steve.

The fact that he could have known you all this time ate away at him, and he felt more than guilty that he hadn't bothered to talk to you when you were in middle school. Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through his system, but a tiny part of him wanted your friendship to grow into something more.

The only thing that could get in his way was Hawkins' resident asshole Billy Hargrove, and get in his way he certainly did. 

Read chapter 4 here!

Taglist: @in-my-dreams-2000 @ggclarissa @iris1697 @5sosxgrethan @ohnoniella @sarcasticalphaofthelooserspack @aspiring-fangirls-world @wow-im-so-tired @hopesxxhigh @justanothercrazyassfangirl @too-many-lanes @whimsylavender @bish-ima-clown @amarachoren @mosiacbrokenheartstf @mcuvlxgs @xapham @metuel18 @immirandaq @nellaphine @multi-madison @gingertalksshit @jojo-buttercup @kyberhearts @mvdelaine @minnie-marvel @caitlin-rose28 @zandaleekrz @r3inventedd

[unholyhelbig]

omg haha that was completely my fault for not being specific! especially bc i like the other fic too! if you're considering writing a pt 2 to the one where hope is a surfer you definitely should bc that's my fav ❤️

Read on Ao3 | Send me more Legacies Prompts! | Read Part One Here

[a/n: Thank you so much for the love! As always, writing smut is not my strong suit, so go easy on me!]

Title: Braving the Storm [P2] 

Ship: Lizzie Saltzman/ Hope Mikaelson 

The warm summer wind curled around Hope Mikaelson’s legs, the thick scent of the sea pulled at every inch of her as she walked along the mostly vacant beachfront. The sky was cloudless and large water-washed rocks sat littered with seaweed drawn in from the storm. She reveled in the silence.

Her board had been broken and her keys were somewhere in the sand. Despite the warnings and her pounding headache, she took to searching the stretch of land helplessly. Palm leaves and different patio furniture that hadn’t been bolted down lay crumpled and broken. She had left Lizzie at the store, had flushed, and walked out because she couldn’t even justify what had happened.

Concussion or not, Hope Mikaelson wasn’t one to have a quick fuck in a stock room an play it off like it was nothing. She liked to have a connection, or at least a decent meal with a woman first. Hell- even a last name would settle the odd feeling in her stomach. But no, it wasn’t her.

She frowned and kicked weakly at a pile of sand that could have been a magnificent castle with a trapped princess and a valiant prince who would have been a woman all along; because only someone with the female sense could rescue a girl from a tower that large. Finding her keys was a long shot.

Hope had fastened a pair of fake lifeguard pants around her waist- the word was misprinted and the color was an abrasive shade of red. She flexed her toes in the wet sand and breathed in the overwhelming scent of rain and her own sweat, shockingly glad that Lizzie had forced her to down that much water. It eased the nausea in her stomach.

The world felt like it was on its edge; everyone still huddled in their homes either too drunk to see the light of day or too concerned with the power lines and rising water to venture past thresholds. She stared at the waves like so could see the clear line where it cut off, watched as rolling darkness hurried away.

“You’re following me now?” Hope didn’t tear her eyes away from the ocean.

“I figured if you dropped out of nowhere, you’d want someone around.” Lizzie grimaced before taking a breath “I don’t know how concussions work.”

Hope chuckled and glanced over; Lizzie looked effortlessly captivating in the sunlight. Her hair caught every turn of the wind and her eyes were bluer than the very waves they stared at. Her nose was red and raw and her expression was tired but content. It matched how Hope felt.

“It’s just a little headache, I’ve had a few.”

Lizzie lifted a perfect brow as if prompting her to continue, to fill the unwavering silence of their Eden.

“Before I started surfing, I skated. God, my mom was furious with the choice but knew there was no talking me out of something I was determined to do. She took me to a skate park and without any training, or practice, I took to it. I fell within seconds and she had to take me to urgent care for some stitches. I had a concussion then, too.”

“You sound like you’re stubborn.”

“The best people are.”

Lizzie smiled, and Hope couldn’t tell if it was more to her, or to the world.  Either way, she could feel her palms sweat and her throat tingle. There was an odd pull to Lizzie, one that made her feel like it would be okay to straddle in her a back stock room filled with cheesy t-shirts and multicolored rocks that they bought in bulk.

“I’m not like that,” Hope finally stumbled out.

“Stubborn?”

“No, I’m more stubborn than I’d like to admit. I meant… I’m not someone who plays into that whole surfer stereotype. I don’t just fuck random people because they saved my life, or whatever.” Hope’s cheeks felt hot and she averted her gaze.

Lizzie took a deep breath and turned until she could face Hope entirely, her arms crossed over her chest. “You’re thinking too much. You’re not the only one who got something out of that, you know? Don’t run yourself ragged over something silly.”

“Like morals?”

“Well, I suppose it depends on who you ask, but yes.”

Hope shoved her hands into the pockets of the cheap sweatpants and sighed “it doesn’t bother you in the slightest that I wouldn’t have given you a second glance if it weren’t for this hurricane and a rainbow umbrella?”

“Oh, should it? People don’t tend to notice a girl behind a counter when all they sell is novelty items. Why would someone who lives here have any reason to buy another shirt with the state they live in, embroidered on the breast?”

Hope weighed her options and her outlying guilt. Lizzie had a point- when she first moved here she was captivated by the glass-plated buildings and what they had to offer; the towels that were screen printed with images of sunsets, the key chains flashing with the most common names, and whatever neon toy was on the market.

“So, just sex?” She sounded out.

“Just sex, if that’s something you’re interested in.”

She pursed her lips and turned back to the waves, watching as they pulled a generous amount back out to sea. Hope had never had an offer like this laid out on the table, not so bluntly, anyway. There had been hookups and long term relationships. But never something just focused on the end goal of pleasure.

“Okay,” her voice was slight “Yeah, we can do that.”

Lizzie nodded, seemingly satisfied with herself, before turning and walking back towards the boardwalk. Hope hated the fact that she watched the entire way, and felt an odd type of ache in the bit of her stomach. But maybe that had something to do with the fact that she couldn’t find her keys.

It took two weeks for their small town to feel normal again. The stores had pried wet wood from windows and piled sandbags in sheds instead of at the edges of doors. Hope had been careful and calculated when it came to every visit to the beach after that.

She couldn’t deny the pull it had on her. She had gotten a new board and fished deep in her junk drawer until she found the spare key to the jeep. The beaches were full again and the waves towered enough to get some good days in- and still, Hope couldn’t bring herself to step foot through the doors of the small novelty shop.

She struggled to peel the wet suit from her skin, releasing the top zipper as her bare feet burned against the asphalt. She ignored the wandering stares around her, and the cooks behind the nearest restaurant as they puffed in smoke before slowly letting it fill the air.

Hope moved the rest of the wetsuit down and threw it in her trunk, feeling the stifling summer air against her mostly bare skin. She started to dig helplessly through her backseat in search of a large t-shirt or even a pair of pants.

“I can’t say I’m not enjoying the view.”

She straightened out, a flash of anger moving through her. Hope dug her nails into her palm and turned to face the culprit “Would you still enjoy the view if I- oh,”

Lizzie had a smug smile on her face, and Hope cursed herself for feeling that familiar rush of heat. “I haven’t seen you in a while. You’re not rethinking our deal, are you?”

“No, of course not, I’ve just been a little tied up is all.” Hope spoke too fast for her own good and Lizzie was quick to take notice, but nice enough not to say anything in the first place. She knew her cheeks were a soft pink but chalked it up to the sun that beat against them.

The blonde leaned forward, she smelled like sunscreen “How’s your head?”

“It’s fine.” Hope lifted an eyebrow cautiously “Oh, um, I mean- it still kind of hurts. Maybe you could get a better look at it… in my car.”

Lizzie schooled her stance and her smile twinkled as if she was just given an invitation for a massive masquerade ball complete with freshly clipped roses and fancy platters of food. Not the backseat of a used Jeep that had a healthy coating of sand on the floor.

Hope opened the door further, like a real gentleman and watched carefully as Lizzie climbed in before doing the same herself. And she hadn’t really thought this all the way through- because the riskiest place she had ever had sex was a few weeks back in the middle of a category five.

Now they were in the back corner of a parking lot that was surrounded by a weather-washed fence and the backs of a few shops. She suddenly felt like she was exposing more than Lizzie was- still in her work uniform of jean shorts and a t-shirt while Hope sported a black bikini, showing the full expanse of her stomach, arms, and legs. Lizzie traced every inch while Hope leaned forward and locked the doors.

“Your car is nice,” Lizzie managed

“It’s a piece of junk, but thank you for trying.”

“Come here.”

Hope allowed herself to be guided to Lizzie’s side of the car by the top strap of her suit. It hadn’t been hard enough to unloop it, but she was effectively in Lizzie’s lap, a tongue running over the roof of her mouth in a matter of seconds. She wasn’t sure which one of them moaned first, but it lit a fire deep that ran deep against her skin as Lizzie’s hands wandered.

Hope bit down softly on Lizzie’s lower lip before running her tongue over it and moving her touch to Lizzie’s jaw. “I’m in charge this time,” She spoke in a low snarl.

“And what makes you figure that?”

She moved to Lizzie’s pulse point, feeling it quicken under her lips “My shitty car, my rules.”

Hope didn’t’ hear a further objection, just a small whimper of pleasure as she looped her fingers around the bottom of Lizzie’s shirt and pulled it over her head. Hope hadn’t been one to take control before- the nerves of starting a relationship, or lack thereof, like this was teeming at the back of her mind. But not when Lizzie was under her like this. Exposed.

She unhooked the latch of her bra, throwing the flimsy fabric into the backseat with her wetsuit. Hope could feel her own heart rate rise as she got a good look at Lizzie; the way her skin seemed soft, breasts flawless in the early evening lights. She knew in that moment that she wanted to watch Lizzie unravel completely. She wanted to be the cause of it.

Hope kissed softly down Lizzie’s chest, nipping tenderly, her stomach heaving up and down with hot breath. “Stop teasing.” She hummed through clenched teeth, fingers digging into the leather seats.

The button to Lizzie’s pants were easily undone, and she eagerly lifted from the seat long enough for Hope to slide the shorts down to her ankles before they were discarded entirely among the sandy floors. Hope lowered herself, even more, running her nails against Lizzie’s sides.

“You know,” She spoke against Lizzie’s thigh, biting down soft enough to elicit a moan of pleasure, “I thought this idea of yours was pretty crazy.”

“Uh huh,”

Lizzie wasn’t listening, and Hope knew that. She was trying to scoot down the seat to bring Hope’s mouth closer. But the shorter girl had a good hold on each of her legs, moving just a bit closer to her sex.

“It’s starting to grow on me a little bit.” Hope ran her tongue over the little bite mark she had left on the inside of Lizzie’s thigh “Unless my priorities are all out of wack.”

“Hope, don’t take this the wrong way.” Lizzie moved her hand from the seat to the girl's chin, pulling her gaze up until blue met a deeper hue of cobalt. “I don’t care about your priorities unless one of them is screaming at you to get on with it, and fuck me.”

She blew out a puff of air and smiled “Message received.”

Hope returned back to her task, pushing Lizzie’s legs further apart before shifting the strip of wet fabric to the side. She breathed in the scent of lavender before running her tongue over Lizzie’s slit, just barely tasting her. The girl writhed beneath her and let out a shuddered breath at the quick contact.

She had reveled in the fact that Lizzie hated to be teased, ghosting her lips over her clit, hot and heavy. Hope knew what she was doing, knew how to trace little patterns, and suck with just the right amount of pressure until Lizzie shook under her touch. She dug her hand into Auburn locks.

“Keep going,” Lizzie husked, clenching her eyes shut to avoid staring at the fuzzy gray ceiling.

Hope followed the command, changing her pace as she ran her tongue over the small bundle of nerves in a steady rhythm until she felt Lizzie’s body fall rigid. Her own hair being pulled as Lizzie bit down hard enough on her bottom lip to draw blood, to keep from screaming loud enough to catch the attention of anyone who happened to be in the parking lot.

Her chest heaved, her mouth dry as Hope pulled away and moved her thumb against the corner of her lip, a satisfied grin on her face.  Lizzie was coated in an even sheen of sweat, her fingers grasping at her t-shirt. She pulled it over her head, finally catching her bearings.

“I might like you better when you’re not talking.” She sniffed, sitting up as she reached for her shorts.

“Thank you, I think?” Hope pushed herself onto the back seat, moving her hands against her knees to brush off the rest of the sand. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“I meant it as one. But maybe next time, can we do this somewhere that isn’t your car?” Lizzie moved an old energy drink can from where her back had been resting. “Not that this isn’t great, or anything.”

Hope scoffed and pulled that random shirt that she finally found over her head. Her skin was hot and the sand was scratching close to her skin. But it was better than the sudden blush that bloomed against her skin.

She smiled. “Message received.”

[prettymuchdolansbitch]

a/n: this is weird but it's my first Brandon one🥴 enjoy loves

imagine being friends with Brandon for so long & then him and Maggie started dating.

when you guys were in high school you had feelings for him. everyone including Brandon knew but he didn't have the same feelings for you. he never wanted it to ruin your friendship. so he let you go whenever you needed and told you that he would be there for you when you worked it out

you eventually learned to deal with the feelings and pushed it down for the sake of your friendship. he eventually had Charlotte and you thought your feelings were gone. you dated someone for a few months but it didn't last. you ended up comparing him & Brandon. and he cheated so.

when Brandon and Charlotte broke up, your feelings had resurfaced. but you weren't going to bring it up to Brandon again.

not even a month after their breakup, Brandon was running to tell you about Maggie and how crazy he was about her.

you internally rolled your eyes for the next month as that was all he ever talked about. you weren't surprised that they ended up together after you accidentally caught them in the kitchen together alone.

you never asked B about it as you were celebrating Sammi's birthday, so you got distracted. now here you are 2 months later when they finally announce they are together.

Maggie is in Malaysia on tour and you see she was posted up with some guy. You have a couple gay friends, so you think you would be able to tell if someone is gay. You usually get a vibe. But the guy Maggie was with, didn't seem like he was. Then again you never truly know.

You being you had to do some stalking. You go through his profile and see many past girlfriends. You go on the assumption that he's not and go back to Maggie's post. It's a very couple-y pose with someone who's not Brandon. As a matter of fact, it looked like the picture B had just reposted from Parker.

You figured you'd wait til lunch with B to ask about it.

You and B agreed to meet at a cafe that you guys used to go to a lot for lunch and then you go to their studio to hear some music.

You put on a pair of joggers and a cropped t-shirt and left your house ready to eat. You and B we seated quickly and ordered right away. The second the waiter walks away, you decide to ask.

"B, who's the guy Maggie's with Malaysia?" You pull up the picture quick. "Um I don't know some dj" He looked at his phone tapping message. From what you could see, you could tell he's been trying to get in touch with Maggie.

"She hasn't answered you?" You sat back into your chair almost regretting bringing it up. "Yeah but it's probably the time difference. she'll answer soon" he put his phone down and you felt the table shake from his leg shaking underneath.

you knew Maggie and if it's only 1 pm here that meant 1 am in Malaysia, that bitch is awake and writing music or something. "B, you know it's only 1 am there. We both know that girl doesn't sleep until 4am."

"Ok can we just change the subject." He said sternly looking into the street. You rolled your eyes at his sudden attitude and then the food came. You guys ate in silence. The waiter had just taken your plates when Brandon's phone started ringing like crazy.

You decided to say one last thing before the lunch ended. "I'm just saying, I know the signs of a cheater when I see it." You had taken the receipt from waiter. Not even a second later, B had blown up on you.

"Do you ever just shut up? Like fuck. if you know the signs of a cheater, how did your own boyfriend manage to cheat on you? Don't compare your trash ass relationships to mine? Okay?" That cut deep. Everyone around you was looking at you two, interested what the next move was.

"You know what? Enjoy your shitty ass relationship. Just don't come to me when I'm right." You got up and left the check for him. As you're about to hop into your car to leave the waiter stopped you.

"Hey, I'm sorry for what ever happened in there. I just wanted to let you know I think you're really pretty and I wanna get to know you. But it's up to you completely. Here's my number if you wanna hang sometime." You smiled and took the receipt from him. You drove off without another word.

4 months later, you're more close with the waiter whom you learned his name is James. You haven't talked to Brandon at all. When Brandon went to the studio after a rough lunch, the boys were confused as to why you weren't right behind him.

Brandon covered the situation and just said that something came up for you. The boys accepted the answer cause they wouldn't know any other reason you wouldn't come.

You saw that Edwin had posted a video of him dancing at one of their famous parties. You rolled with " I miss y'all😩" which then turned into an invite to a party they were throwing that same night.

You agreed to go because you low-key wanted to see how Brandon was. You haven't seen him out Maggie in a while.

You brought along James. You pulled up to the familiar house and parked. You haven't seen most of the people there in months. As you're saying hi to people by the door you felt eyes on you. you just didn't know who. The first of the five boys you saw was Ed and Z.

you introduced them to James and they immediately got along. "So you the reason that she don't come around anymore huh?" James laughed at what Ed said. "I guess so" He wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Ight well go drink and then we'll interview you like the brothers we are" They patted James on the back and went to go do their own thing. You and James went to get a drink for him and a soda for you as you had to drive home after.

Nick and Austin eventually came up and met James. You felt like they all liked James a lot. You and James were sitting on the couch in your own bubble.

All the Prettymuch boys had huddled in a circle together. "Yo B, you didn't tell us y/n had a new boo" Nick said sipping on his drink. "I didn't even know either"

All the boys were confused now. "Aren't y'all friends?" Z asked really confused. "We haven't been for months now. we got into an argument, long story."

they all nodded. "not gonna lie her man is like handsome as fuck" Ed said. B looked at him in disbelief. He shook his head and walked away. The other boys looked at Ed like he was stupid. "What?" Ed said looking at you two on the couch.

You were playing with James hands and admired the watch on his wrist. He had told you the story of his grandfather and that watch on your first date. You just sat there reminiscing.

James got up to go to the bathroom when someone stood in front of him. You both looked up and saw Brandon standing there. "oh hey, I recognize you. I'm James. you are?" James stuck his hand out. B looked at it and just looked back up. "okay.... anyways, I'm gonna go use the bathroom. you good bub?" he said looking back at you. "yeah I'm just gonna get another drink." you stood up and looked at Brandon in the eyes for the first time in 4 months.

James had walked away and you walked towards the kitchen. "he's willing to leave you alone at a party? rookie mistake" B said following you into the kitchen.

"James knows I can handle myself" you said looking around for the soda you were drinking. "You're drinking? Didn't you drive?" Brandon asked watching you walk around the kitchen.

"I did drive. I'm not looking for alcohol, I'm looking for the soda." You rolled your eyes at the feeling of being interrogated right now. "Any other questions? Comments? Concerns" You opened the fridge to reveal the soda you've been sipping on.

"Um. Me and Maggie are done." Brandon watched you as you poured the soda into your red cup. "Shocker!" You put the soda away.

"Can you be serious for a second? Holy shit" he smacked your cup on the counter.

"oh, I am serious sweetie. Cause I was being serious when I said don't come to me when I'm right." You took a sip of your drink when James walked in the kitchen. "Is everything okay here?" Everyone was peeping into the kitchen now.

"No, nothing's okay. You stole my best friend the second we got into an argument and now she doesn't even want to be my friend. You ruined our friendship" B said getting close to James.

"Y/N's free to be friends with whoever she wants, and she knows that. Now, if she doesn't want to be your friend, that must be on you and your issues." James said remembering when he first met you. "You little-" B was about to run up and hit James when Zion stepped in the middle.

"Alright alright. B you gotta step out." Zion was preventing B from charging towards James. "No, it's fine. I think we'll go. It was nice seeing everyone again." You smiled at Zion and James followed you outside to your car.

"That was eventful" James said hopping into the passenger side. "I think it went pretty well" you laughed and drove off.

-2 months later-

The boys were about to leave for tour and today was their last day.

You were on your way to their house for a barbeque they were having. You parked and saw some people outside playing basketball. You walked over and saw Zion, Edwin, and their other friends in an intense game.

You waved and walked over to Nick who was cooking on the grill. You gave him a quick hug and saw Simba playing on the driveway. You went to go play with him when Brandon walked out of the door.

"Oh hey. Didn't know you were pulling up. Where's James?" He went to hug you but you stepped back. "He has work, couldn't make it although I'm sure he would've loved to." You answered quickly.

"Listen I'm sorry I snapped at him.. I just haven't seen you in months and I was drinking and-" You cut him off before he could finish.

"That's not an excuse to be rude." You picked up Simba as he was jumping up on you.

"Okay but he stole you from right under me. I have every right to be rude to him. And now look, we're barely even friends at this point." Nick looked over at you guys and went inside to get more food and to give you guys some privacy.

"Brandon you did this to yourself. I was trying to look out for you and you snapped on me. James had nothing to do with any of that. Sure he swooped in the second that happened but.." You sighed.

"listen, I just came to say bye and wish you luck on tour. so have a good summer B" You walked away from Brandon as he didn't say anything else. You hugged Zion and Edwin goodbye. Nick opened the door and smacked Brandon. "What was that for?" Brandon held his arm. "That's your best friend and you're just gonna let her leave?" Nick said going back to the grill. As you were about to walk out of their gate, B ran to you.

"Wait. I can't leave knowing I won't have your support while on tour." You turned and saw everyone looking at you.

"B you know I'll always be there for you guys." You crossed your arms. "No, I mean me and you. I'm not leaving knowing you're not my best friend anymore." He walked closer but this time you didn't move.

"What do you want me to say B? You really hurt me that day. I see you and I think of that day."

"So you'd rather remember that than every good time we've had?" "No but.." "Cmon y/n. I'm sorry, one more chance? I won't fuck up" Brandon opened his arms for a hug.

You rolled your eyes and opened your arms too. He smiled and jumped into your arms. "B you're bigger than me, I can't hold you."

"I don't care I have my best friend with me again" He rocked you back and forth in his arms. "Alright

bye loser. have fun on tour" You finally walked out to your car, glad to have him back in your life.

[tuxiedjabberwock]

Ft Big Bang - Smoke Always Follows Fire (Fairy Tail fan-fiction)

My piece for the @ft-bb Fairy Tail Big Bang event! Partnered with @h-eartfilias as my artist!

This is actually a part of the full story - I plan on making it multichaptered after all. It’s Rated M w/lime and features Edo!Nalu so read at your discretion

Mini fires from all over the school, of which he’s taken blame for, leads Natsu to the real source: Lucy Ashley. She counter-threatens him to reveal his underage circuit driving, and the game continues when they find more and more secrets to hold over the other. Soon enough, they’re in deeper waters than expected.

Although completely unintentional, fire always seemed to follow Natsu, and so as he ran down the school’s green with his bag bouncing on one shoulder, heavy textbooks in the other, he was distracted by the sight of it curling from a small building’s open window. So distracted, in fact, that he skidded to a stop, his sneakers scuffing against the wet crosshatched stone of the path as he spun around and warily stalked towards the source. For once, there was a fire and he wasn’t at the source—he had to look, even as his heart pounded out of his chest and his cowardice screamed for him to turn back and get to class before he was late.

 The building wasn’t marked, but it was in the vicinity of the Art and Design section, so he believed it was one of those classrooms. And as he peered through the window, he spotted several literature-based posters pinned on the wall. English Composition, probably, he thought, daring to lean closer. And what a dare it was, as a slender but strong hand snapped out from inside and seized the color of his white polo shirt. He shrieked in alarm, eyes bugging out from his head. The owner of said hand quickly pulled into his peripheral, but all he could see were eyes like smoldering coals.

 “—Oh,” said his accoster shortly, and a moment later he was released to the ground. His possessions scattered over the grass and he stared on with open-mouthed gasps as she met his gaze, arms crossed over her ample chest. Very short blonde hair pulled into a side ponytail adorned her head, and her face, while beautiful, was marred with a scowl. Pinched between two of her black-painted nails was a lit cigarette, the source of the smoke. “I thought you were someone else,” she said as means of an explanation, taking a drag. She never broke eye contact.

 “I—uh—you—” Natsu stammered, but he couldn’t get any sensible words out.

 “You’re that Natsu Dragion kid, aren’t you?” One hand curled into her cheek. “I’d recognize that dye job anywhere.”

 It was on his tongue to say that no, that was actually his natural newborn hair color, but his tongue didn’t want to move to form the words.

 “Don’t talk much, do you?” She raked her eyes over his frayed stonewashed jeans and long-sleeved polo. “Great. Makes this easier.” Removing the cig and pinching the tip between her nails, she tossed the butt into the trash and leaned close to him, close enough for him to count each golden-brown lash. “Say a word to anyone about this, you’ll be ashed faster than one of my fags. Well?” she said when he didn’t respond, baring her teeth.

 “A-Affirmative!” Natsu said in a voice far too high-pitched to be his own. She snorted and turned her nose up.

 “Who fuckin’ says affirmative?” She dusted off her black sweater and smoothed the folds of her far-below-regulation pleated skirt. “Whatever. Scurry away. I don’t want people to walk by and think we’re having a tryst.”

 And as Natsu beat his hasty retreat—without scurrying, he might’ve added with a smidge more courage—he wondered how a top ditcher like her knew the word tryst.

 ——————

 He saw her again the next week, and this time he discovered her name was Lucy Ashley. He knew because at the start of his mid-semester class, she loudly responded to the call of her name.

 “I’m here, as you can see, Four Eyes,” she told the poor professor.

 When Natsu’s name was called, he meekly responded upon feeling her eyes burning into the side of his face.

 Like her, he was hoping never to have a second confrontation. Luck, on the other hand, would speak otherwise.

 After class, he was alarmed to see her standing a way’s away in the hall beckoning him with a finger and a sugary smile. Fitting considered her insides were corroded and rotten. He stalked after her, still balking, and into another empty classroom, where she promptly locked the door and barred it with her body.

 (Granted, she was a whole foot shorter and probably thirty pounds lighter, but he did not want to make a joke of the situation.)

 “Are you stalking me or something?” she said, a nasty skew to the corner of her mouth. Her lipstick was the color of blackberries, and Natsu couldn’t help noting it matched her nails, but stood out stark as death against her pale and blonde complexion.

 “N-No! Of course not!” Why would I be a glutton for punishment? “I just, uh—it’s, err, coincidence?”

 “Coincidence,” she repeated. “Events which act in synergy by nothing but a casual connection.” He balked a little more openly as she set her hand on her cocked hip. She wore a denim skirt this time with ripped leather tights that certainly didn’t come that way, and a cut-up band t-shirt with a grey sweater hanging unbuttoned over her slim frame. “Although, since we never so much as breathed the same air before, I doubt this is a coincidence, Pinky.”

 “W-Well…” Natsu’s words failed him and he took a step back. Lucy’s eyes narrowed and like a predator, she matched his step with two. They continued towards the other end of the room when (expectedly, since he wasn’t quite looking where he was going) Natsu pitched over a desk, overturning it and hitting the ground with a loud noise. He opened his mouth for a pained shout when Lucy’s hand suddenly clapped over his lips.

 “Quiet,” she said under her breath. Natsu’s heart didn’t take the advice, pounding like a war drum, but he didn’t speak, and soon he detected the sound of footsteps. They passed after a moment, but Lucy remained unpleased. “They’re bringing security,” she said in a low voice. Her next action was hauling him up by the elbow and nearly dislocating his shoulder. God, she had a good right arm. “You drive?”

 No, nonono. “Um, that’s not—it isn’t—I don’t r-really—” She released him and was next to the window in a few quick steps, hoisting it open and swinging through. The doorknob clicked and in a fit of nerves Natsu followed.

 “Lookie there, Pinky’s playing truant,” Lucy said as he caught up with her. She moved quick for someone in platform boots.

 “P-People will start thinking I’m a d-delinquent,” he said anxiously as they approached the parking lot.

 “Maybe they’ll think you finally got that stick in your ass surgically removed.”

 Natsu, amid going towards his car and pulling out his keys, gave her a scandalized look. Lucy was unrepentant as she circled the vehicle. “Uh-huh. ’02 Mustang. Wouldn’t have taken ya for a speed demon.”

 You’d be surprised. “I, uh, I’m not.”

 “Well anyway, in exchange for my not kicking your ass and letting you get off scot-free, you’re giving me a ride home. I guess you’re a notch above the shitty people on the train.”

 “I-I-I’m sorry, b-but I—I j-just can’t—” The side of her fist hitting the roof startled him up, and he looked to see her dark expression.

 “Drive, or else.” Natsu complied faster than he would like to admit, and quickly unlocked the car. Lucy slid in first, crossing her arms and legs and glaring at the dash. Gulping, Natsu took the driver’s seat. He was in his right mind up until the door clicked shut. “Well?” Lucy said, looking at him with a raised brow. “Are we going anywhere soon?”

 “You didn’t say the magic word.”

 “What?” Her brow arched further when Fireball Natsu gave her a flat look, hands locked behind his head.

 “Let’s see… You threatened me over your folly, then dragged me into a classroom, and hijack my car for a ride. You got a nice face, Sugar Tits, but that ain’t a payment.”

 “—Excuse me?” Lucy let out a little incredulous laugh before her hand snapped out to fist in his collar. “I don’t know where you’ve been hiding your pair this whole time, but it better get back in hiding if you know what’s good for you.”

 “How about you listen?” In one move, Natsu grabbed her by the wrist and yanked her forward over the center console, bringing them face to face. He held her tight enough to bruise and said in a dangerously low voice, “You’re in my car. You don’t get to give orders to me in my car. Get that through your blonde skull.”

 Lucy stared him down just the same, but her breath was coming a little quicker. Anticipation, or fear?  Either way, he liked a fight.

 “And you don’t make things happen snapping at me. The magic word’s a place to start.” He tossed her back and her back hit the door with a light thump. Lucy braced her hands against the seat and dash and made to move forward again.

 “Quit fuckin’ with me, Dragion!”

 “Another word of advice.” He turned the car on, threw it in drive, and laid on the pedal. The Mustang lurched forward and he made a sharp turn into an emptier section of the parking lot, throwing her back against the door again. “Always wear a seatbelt, eh?”

 “So, what do you call all that?” Lucy said once she regained her bearings, giving him a murderous look. “An act? You’re damn near professional.”

 “No, not an act. I wish it was.” He barely slowed before entering the main road and weaved through the early afternoon traffic with old experience. “It’s more than I want to explain to you anyway, Sugar Tits.”

 “Okay, fine. You’ve made your stupid point, Dragion. Stop the car.” He ignored her and turned onto the highway where he really put the pedal to the metal. Lucy went flat against the seat with a surprised breath.

 “Fireball. Call me that.”

 “Fireball…” She scrutinized his face with narrowed eyes and the corner of his mouth quirked. He never disguised himself on the circuit, only wearing a pair of goggles that just about every other racer did, but he didn’t need to: people naturally saw no connection between the wimp-ass Natsu and the fastest man on four wheels, Fireball. “So, you race. Illegally, I should add. Didn’t think you had it in ya.”

 “Looks can be deceiving. I, for instance, thought you shitted rainbows, and look at us now,” he said very dryly. Lucy snorted.

 “Well, Fireball, I don’t think you’re in a spot to talk about my smoking. You’re no law-abiding citizen either.”

 “Then we have an agreement: neither of us blab.”

 “For now,” she said darkly. “But for this, you can bet your ass I’ll find something else to dangle over you.”

 “How about those tits?” He could hear her teeth grinding and grinned at the sound. “The main girl in my life’s my car, but I don’t mind making room for another.”

 “Shove it up your ass.”

 “It’s not my ass that’ll be on the receiving end, sweetheart.” Instead of responding, she whipped her head around to the window, but not fast enough for him to miss her blush. Well, well, it seemed like he found the trick to shutting her up. He was in a much more pleasant mood as he took the next exit to a rest stop. The overly large parking lot only had a couple worn buildings, a gas station and convenience store, before falling away to forestry on all sides. He hit the brakes where the little dirt road turned to asphalt. “And here’s your stop.”

 “You’re shitting me. This is on the other side of town from my stop.”

 “Heh. You must think I care.” He unlocked the doors and gave her a grin. “See ya, Sugar Tits.”

 He continued grinning until five minutes later, she realized he wasn’t budging and grudgingly exited the vehicle. “I’ll get you back,” she said again before slamming his door shut. Then she strode off with her head high and Natsu leaned out the window to watch her retreating behind.

 “And a good fucking day to you too!”

 ——————

 For the next week Natsu fought to not even breathe the same air as Lucy Ashley. He was mortified over how he treated her as Fireball and terrified she would find another thing to blackmail him with on top of the unsolved fires around the school. So, he buried his head in his books during class and beat a hasty retreat as soon as the professor dismissed them. It worked until he was confronted by a thoroughly pissed-off Lucy (which, to be fair, might have been her default state, but this time she was extraordinary beyond normal standards).

 “Boys’ bathroom, now.” She had cut him off in the cafeteria’s line almost literally breathing fire. Natsu’s fingers tightened around the plastic tray.

 “I, I haven’t p-paid yet—”

 THUNK!

 Natsu had a bit of a memory lapse, and next thing he knew he was on the ground with his cup of Jell-O staining his blue shirt and the blood rushing to his left cheek. Lucy’s fist was still raised as she said in a very tight voice, “Move your ass, Dragion.” And she spun on her heel and swept past the curious onlookers.

 “H-Hey, Natsu?” Someone came from behind and pulled him back to his feet. Natsu turned to see Gray offering him a glass of iced water.

 “Thanks…” He pressed the glass to his swelling cheek.

 “Who was that? And why is she so upset at you?”

 “I…we…well, she met F-Fireball,” he said, averting his eyes. It was mostly true anyway. Gray’s eyes widened.

 “Ooh. Yeah. Makes sense.” He looked at the cold Jell-O seeping through Natsu’s shirt. “Want one of mine?” Not particularly, since Gray’s shirts were super thick and (to normal people) it was ninety degrees outside, but it was somewhat better. “I have to meet her in the restroom.”

 “So she can get the other side of your face?” Gray gave a dubious squinty-eyed look.

 “Well, if I don’t go, she’ll do it for sure. If I do…w-well…it’s unlikely.”

 Lucy was leaning against the wall with arms crossed when he entered the restroom. She wore a baggy tunic shirt over denim shorts and combat boots, one of which immediately planting itself in his stomach. Natsu’s back hit the door behind him, then his skull when Lucy grabbed him by the neck.

 “You should know,” she said, her breath coming heavy, “I don’t like being made an ass of.”

 Instinct was a funny thing: there was no cowardice involved in it, just knee-jerk reactions honed by years of environmental factors. Natsu’s hands went out and tangled in her loose hair, and he used his elbows to push against the insides of hers, breaking her grip and pulling her head forward and into his at the same time. He headbutted her hard and she stumbled backwards when he released his grip in shock. The blood drained from his face at the sight of her startled expression. This was nothing he could blame on Fireball.

 “L-Lucy, so-sorry, I’m sorry, I just—”

 The lights abruptly cut out, bathing the windowless room in darkness. Natsu heard Lucy’s footsteps retreat from him before she let out a yelp on the other side of the room.

 “L-Lucy?”

 “Stay back th-there!” He started. Did she just…stutter?

 “Lucy, I’m r-really sorry about—”

 “I said s-stay back there, Dragion!” So it wasn’t his imagination. Certainly, his actions didn’t have her so terrified—if so, she wouldn’t have retaliated for what Fireball did to her. But the only other factor in that situation was…the power went out. So…?”

 “U-Um…sorry, I’m overstepping boundaries, but, err, are you…scared of the—”

 “Not another word!” she interrupted in a shrieking voice. Immediately after, the lights returned. He blinked until his eyes adjusted and saw Lucy pressed against the far wall and crouched under a sink, her hands clasped over her head. She was trembling, he could see that even from a distance, and her eyes were red. “Just…shut up,” she said in a shaky voice. He pressed his lips together and moved forward.

 “I…I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t make fun of you like this…if that’s what you mean…”

 “Yes, you would, because you’re a shitty person.”  She rolled her eyes and added, “Well, everyone is. Just know, if you so much as breathe word of this to anybody—”

 “I won’t.” She gave him a hard look and he returned it with a placatory one. He had incentive to do so—disregarding the Fireball thing, he was still at fault for the brushfires around the school—but there was just something so inherently dirty about exploiting her weakness. That was more up Igneel’s alley to do, and Natsu had long since sworn to do the opposite of his late father in everything. “U-Um…it’s gotta be wet under there, so don’t you wanna, uh…” He offered a hand and she slapped it away hard.

 “Move.” He gave her a wide berth to crawl from under the sink and get to her feet. She didn’t spare him another glance when she stomped through the door and slammed it shut behind her.

 Well, Natsu thought, hand still out in front of him, now she really hates my guts.

 ——————

 Ironically, Lucy was the one to ignore Natsu the following few days. He didn’t like leaving things as they were, but he also didn’t like setting his ass up for a good kicking. As it were, faith was determined to keep bringing them together in the unruliest circumstances.

 “One part of the project requires you to pair up,” Professor Gryder said once the last of the information sheets were passed around. “And you’ve already been paired by a random algorithm. I’ve already posted the sheet on the bulletin board outside.”

 “Well that really sucks the fun from a group project, don’t you think?” Levy Ström said in the most derisive voice possible. Natsu heard Lucy click her teeth.

 “Each of you will spend a day with the other and analyze their interactions and habits. By the end of the week, you should have a reflection prepared: does this person act based on societal influences, or by their own free will? With that, class is dismissed.”

 Natsu watched Lucy from the corner of his eye as she grabbed her binder and dodged past him on her way to the door. He never really thought about it, but he began to wonder what she was doing in a Sociology class as he packed his notebooks away.

 “Fuck no!”

 It said something that Natsu didn’t even flinch at the sound, quietly slipping his backpack on and making to creep past the crowd around the bulletin board outside. Once he heard Lucy scream again and burst into the classroom, he dared sneak a peek at the groups.

 —

NATSU DRAGION & LUCY ASHLEY

—

 Okay, hmm, yeah, that made sense. Hearing Lucy’s muffled vitriol from the closed classroom, Natsu decided to air his grievances later. If Professor Mine even possessed a head after today.

 “Natsu, will you be alright with such an uncouth young…lady?” Cana Domènech was entirely the opposite of Lucy: conservative, refined, and thought “oh my gosh” to be her swearing quota for the day. She looked at him with concern when he let out a little nervous laugh.

 “Y-Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ll, uh, I’ll survive.”

 “Well, I do wish you the best of luck.” Cana gave him one more sympathetic look before leaving. Natsu heard the door open behind him and looked to see Lucy in noticeably lower spirits than before. She met his eyes and clicked her teeth, tossing her head to the side.

 “I’m not big on the idea—” Obviously, “—but I have to pass. So, let’s go.”

 “L-let’s g-go?”

 “Did you not read the stupid paper?” She fluttered said paper in front of his face. “Analyze each other’s societal interactions. I don’t know about you, but I’d much rather get this done sooner than later. I don’t want to spend a second more with you than I have to.”

 “B-B-But, me, I don’t think th-that’s a, that that’s a g-good—” His words died off at her look. He let out a shaky breath and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’ll have to deal with…you know…Fireball.”

 “Sooner than later.” She raised an expectant eyebrow and he sighed again, gripping the straps of his bag.

 “Al…Alright.” She followed him to the parking lot and stood aside a bit awkwardly as he anxiously slid inside.

 “Well, Sugar Tits, you coming in or what?” Fireball asked, raising an eyebrow at her. Lucy rolled her eyes to the sky and practically threw herself into the seat. “Glad to see you’re eager,” he said as he put the car in drive. Lucy barely flinched this time when he laid on the gas and cut onto the street at speed. “So, what’s a respectable young lady like yourself doing in a Sociology class?”

 “It’s a stupid elective that I’m regretting more and more by the second.” She folded her arms and fell back into the seat with a frustrated sigh. Natsu looked at her from the corner of his eye.

 “Any particular reason we’re not doing your part first?”

 “Because I don’t want to.”

 “Sugar Tits, that reasoning’s not gonna fly with me.”

 “Stop with the Sugar Tits shit already, limp dick.”

 “My mouth, my tongue, my car, my rules. Don’t blame me if those jugs are the most appealing parts of you. I can look at them and still feel some semblance of hope for womankind.” Said jugs were encased in a thin black tube top that did nothing to hide their volume or save them from Fireball’s roving eyes.

 “Seriously, do you take improv classes? I don’t get how you can be such a pushover normally and then cart around a record-sized pair when you get behind a wheel.”

 “I’m an enigma, Sugar Tits. Get used to it.”

 There was a slight itch of trepidation as Fireball headed onto the row of dark side streets he called home. But at the end of the block was a building that shone a little brighter than the boarded-up adult stores and bail bond places surrounding it. A place built upon legends of the past and which would continue creating legends well into the future.

 “Aren’t you a little young to be going to a bar?” Lucy said derisively as he pulled into the parking lot behind the place.

 “Not a bar. Home.” He put the car in park and turned it off. She recoiled a bit at his somber tone.

 “This run-down old place?”

 “That’s what you call it.” He let out a sigh and smiled a bit. “Well, Lucy, time to head into the belly of the beast.”

 Lucy’s burning gaze followed him out of the car as he shrugged his things higher on his shoulders. This was the only place he felt as in-control as when he was in his car—not that he thought it’d last with Lucy breathing down his neck. Lucy fell in step behind him as he walked around to the front entrance. “B-Be ready,” he said under his breath as he pushed the door open.

 “What?” Natsu sensed something flying and ducked in time for a beer bottle to miss his head and fly over Lucy’s. She spun around to watch it hit the street with comically wide eyes. “What in the flying fu—”

 “Move it or lose it, Dragion!” Jet shouted. Natsu shrunk backwards.

 “S-Sorry, I was just—”

 “Still apologizing? I don’t know who’s more of an eyesore, you or Elfman!”

 “Jet, stop bothering my brother,” Lisanna Stonestrider said, resting a hand on the crying Elfman’s shoulder and shooting Jet a glare. It didn’t affect him too much, and she turned to give Natsu a warm smile. “Welcome back.”

 “H-Hi, Lisanna.”

 “Ooh, Natsu, you’ve brought a girl.” Mirajane said it very casually but it had heads turning anyway. Natsu turned a deep red and did his best turtle impression when someone let out a loud laugh-whistle.

 “I’m Lucy,” she said, startling him a bit with the sound of her voice. She had her hands on her hips and was standing with her feet apart and chin raised just high enough to squint down at all of them. “And know that next time a bottle comes flying at my head, it’s going up somebody’s ass.”

 “It’s going to be your ass this time, Max,” Warren said. Someone whistled again, then the previous conversations bubbled back into the silence. Natsu went to sit at the bar and Lucy followed him, perching herself with crossed legs on the stool.

 “I’m Mira,” the barmaid introduced, smiling at Lucy. Lucy, as per her dignified nature, snorted.

 “Do you shit rainbows or something?”

 “P-Please don’t,” Natsu muttered, folding his hands atop the clean wood countertop.

 “I’m used to worse coming from these people’s mouths.” Mira, that’s not a thing to happily admit to. “Would you like something to eat or drink?”

 Lucy slid her hands across the bar and her eyes narrowed as she peered around the clientele. “Is there an undercover cop here…?”

 “No, no,” she said with a laugh. “Whatever happens in Fairy Tail stays in Fairy Tail.”

 She still seemed incredibly dubious, so Natsu slowly raised a finger. “Can I get a fireball cinnamon whiskey?” Mira hummed softly as she took a glass from under the bar and filled it halfway before sliding it over. Lucy still looked as if she expected cameras to pop out at any moment, but she slowly slid back in the seat. Natsu didn’t get to the glass before Lucy snatched it and downed it all in one go. “Can I get another?” she said, ignoring Natsu’s indignant yelp.

 “For a friend of Natsu’s, of course. He doesn’t have many, outside of us,” she said as she refilled the glass. Natsu flushed under Lucy’s subsequent scrutiny.

 “For how much of a turtle he is, doesn’t surprise me.”

 “Well what about you? You’re hiding behind a lot of vulgarity.” Natsu jumped when Lucy slammed the glass down mid-drink, splashing the whiskey all over the countertop.

 “Don’t act like you know me!” she said in a voice that bordered a growl. Mirajane held Lucy’s gaze for a long moment, and Lucy was the one to back down in the end.

 “It’s none of my business anyway,” she said breezily, retrieving another glass and pouring Natsu’s share, along with refilling Lucy’s and swabbing the mess she made.

 “Damn right it ain’t, Princess.” Lucy knocked back the glass with marked aggression before slamming it down yet again. Wisely, Natsu retained a Sugar Tits-related comment as he slowly sipped his drink.

 “Sup, idiots?” The door banged open and Levy sauntered in, flanked by Gray and Cana behind her. Sitting down with Jet and Droy created a new course of ruckus in the place and Natsu almost missed Wendy and Romeo sneaking in. She caught his wave and responded with a half-smile and a hair flip; Romeo turned away and hunched a bit more, but Natsu caught a bit of a smile before he did. He’s getting better.

 “You bring little kids in here too?” Lucy nodded at Romeo as Wendy led him to a booth seat. He squared his shoulders and gripped his glass with both hands.

 “W-W-Well, it’s, err—he’s, I-I’m—all of u-us, actually…we, uh, we…” His stammering peaked with his anxiety and Lucy let out a loud groan of frustration. Mira rested a hand atop his.

 “The upper level has a few bedrooms; he stays in one alongside Natsu.”

 “You guys…live here?” Lucy’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked between them. Mira’s smile hadn’t dimmed, but her eyes darkened with a bit of grief.

 “It may seem like a dingy bar to most people, but to us, it’s our only home.” Lucy’s lips parted and she craned her head back to take another long look at the people of Fairy Tail. Young, old; grizzled, bright-eyed; weak, strong; happy and joking, depressed and silent… Her eyes returned to Natsu, but there was no outright malice this time.

 “Your only home?” she asked in a voice so soft it was nothing but earnest. He tipped his head in a nod. She put her hand to her mouth and stared, seemingly at a loss for words. Natsu gave a little sheepish smile and shrugged a shoulder. She blinked a few times to clear a suspicious sheen from her eyes, then pushed away from the bar. “We’ll do this another day,” she said quietly, and took a deep breath before rushing past the tables to the door.

 “Natsu?” Mira asked quietly, bringing his eyes back to hers. She regarded him with a concerned look and he laughed a bit, though not with humor.

 “W…We have a funny relationship,” he said, finishing the last of his whiskey. “Unintentionally exchanging secrets. This time, though…I think this was too much this time. I don’t know, Mira.” He sunk forward until he could rest his head in his arms, and Mira’s hand gently combed through his hair. Well, she got her payback for last time, plus change…

 ——————

 The next day was a Saturday, which meant no class and no Lucy. He just almost pushed yesterday’s happenings from his mind as he came to Aicha’s Autos for his usual weekend shift. He was supposed to open, but when he arrived the garage door was already rolled up and a sports car was waiting with an open hood. He peeked around the corner to see Metallicana reclining in a folding chair, the top of his coveralls loosened around his faded Guns ‘N Roses t-shirt. He was drinking a bottle of Guinness and grinned when he saw Natsu, waving him over.

 “I thought I opened?”

 “Yeah, well, I had a little extra time. Wanna drink?” He nodded at the small cooler next to him. He had about as many qualms as Fairy Tail with underage drinking—not that Natsu minded. It was the “drinking on the job” part that made him uneasy.

 “I-Isn’t this a job here?” He gestured to the sports car. Metallicana shrugged.

 “’s all done save for the test drive, and anyway client’s not comin’ ‘til tomorrow.” Grinning, he pulled the driver’s key from his chest pocket and let it dangle from his fingertip. “Just up and down the block so’s I can make sure the frame’s right an’ straight.”

 “Just up and down the block…” His fingers twitched and he realized he was leaning forward towards the key. Metallicana laughed not unkindly.

 “Haven’t been racin’ in a while? Don’t usually see ya so antsy.”

 “The police got some sort of tip and have been swarming around the usual spots, so the people in charge have to find a new…venue…” He was distracted as his phone received a notification. To his utter surprise, it was a text from Lucy.

 Finished the report. Come check it out.

 Below that was an address not too far from the auto shop. Natsu knew the area: a lot of open road and torn-down homes, leaving plenty of unpurchased lot space. It also was a wonderful place for festering crime, since it lay far from any police station. He might’ve been looking too deeply into matters, but the locale sounded a little too coincidental for his liking.

 “Natsu?”

 “E-Err, yeah, test drive.” He took the keys and pocketed his phone. “Up and down the street. Got it.” He excused himself and locked the hood before sliding into the driver’s seat. He turned the key in the ignition and heard the engine turn, heard the gears in his mind whir to life as he reversed from the garage.

 She ran away, he mused, stopping in the street and heading straight down. Beats me as to why, but she ran. I don’t know what she wrote, but it somehow leaves a pit in my stomach anyway.

 He rounded the corner despite his promise to move up and down the street and cruised along the quiet suburb. Whatever she has to say, I can take it in stride. I don’t regret joining with the Fairy Tail gang—they’re a hell of a lot more my family than that old prick. His hands tightened around the wheel. And as pleasant company as Sugar Tits is, she’ll be in for a heck of a time trying to pull me from my family.

 He lost track of time circling the neighborhood and caught himself as he drove past a gas station. Glancing at the meter, he realized he used up a few gallons in his reverie. He stopped to fill the tank and bought himself a root beer at the convenience store. Well, regardless, he thought as he popped the cap, taking a long gulp. I won’t know until I go there…and I can only hope it’s good news. W-Well, as good as it can get considering Lucy.

 By the time he returned to the garage, Metallicana was working on an SUV. Natsu parked the car on the dirt lot outside and honked once to catch his attention. As he approached, he spotted a suited man about his age sitting against the wall. He had dark curly hair and red eyes that sized Natsu up as he came over.

 “Pink hair. Mr. Dragion?”

 “Um…y-yes?” Metallicana slid out from under the car with a sigh, dropping a wrench and pulling his long auburn hair from his grease-stained face.

 “That’s Gajeel, my son,” he said without delay. “And this is his shitshow he calls a car.” The SUV was old for sure, but Natsu couldn’t see the big deal with it.

 “Nice to m-meet you, Mr. Aicha.” He offered a hand and Gajeel again appeared to size him up before shaking it. His hand was calloused and his grip was firm.

 “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

 “Don’t say nothin’ too incriminatin’ ‘round him…it’ll be all over the headlines come daylight.”

 “I don’t, um, I don’t understand.”

 “I’m a reporter for Magnolia Times,” Gajeel said. Natsu nodded slowly.

 “That makes sense…”

 “My father has also told me much about you, Mr. Dragion. That you’re his most reliable assistant, and that you’re the most pleasant young man he’s met.” Natsu let out a nervous laugh and ducked his head to hide his blush.

 “Mi…Mister Metallicana gives me too much c-credit.”

 “Nah, yer just too deprecative,” Metallicana said airily, leaning his back against the car. “Anyway, Natsu, met any girls lately?”

 It was something he asked fairly often because Natsu was “that age” according to him—whatever that meant—and now the question made him flush a deeper scarlet and trip over his tongue. “I, err, I don’t, I h-haven’t—”

 “Ooh!” He grinned and his wine-colored eyes glittered. “She got big tits?”

 Natsu choked on his spit while Gajeel face-palmed. “That’s not…socially acceptable to say.”

 “Well, I said it. Does she?”

 “She—she—yes,” he admitted in a mutter.

 “Congrats!” Gajeel sighed.

 “S-S-She’s not, she’s not m-my girlf-friend or anything…!”

 “She single?”

 “Father, act your age,” Gajeel said once Natsu covered his red face with shaky hands. Metallicana let out a hearty laugh.

 “Alright, alright… Let’s finish up his car so’s real customers can have their turn.”

 Despite his words, it was a pretty quiet day once Gajeel left with his repaired SUV (and some choice words on Metallicana’s part; seriously, the old man had a mouth to make a sailor blush, yet there was nothing but endearment behind the coarse profanities). By two o’clock, Natsu’s shift was over, and it was time to face Lucy yet again.

 “I’m leaving, Mr. Metallicana…”

 “Right, see ya Mo—two beers?” Metallicana raised a pierced eyebrow as Natsu shut the cooler, cradling the bottles in his other hand.

 “I need the support… See you Monday.”

 “Yeah, see ya.”

 The tension coiled and formed a pit in his stomach as he headed towards the indicated address. He had already knocked back the first beer at the halfway point, and he was nursing the second one when he realized he was close. It wasn’t enough to impair his driving, not by a longshot, but it fooled him into thinking this was maybe a good idea.

 Lucy’s house was entirely average with two stories, a garage, and a tree out front. It looked too innocent for someone determined to give him hell. He parked in the empty driveway and went up to ring the bell. He stood awkwardly on the porch for several minutes, shifting from one foot to another and feeling like some kind of trespasser, before the door swung open. She stood there and blinked at him dazedly, not saying a word, and the silence melted Natsu’s anxiety a bit.

 “Good…afternoon,” he said. Lucy inclined her head to one side.

 “Yeah,” she replied softly. She wore an extra-large grey hoodie and tights underneath, a surprisingly simple and unassuming outfit choice, but if she was at home, what did he expect? “Come on.” She turned inside and left the door open for him. He self-consciously removed his sneakers before entering, making sure to drop them beside the door after shutting it behind him.

 “You, err, y-you finished it early. The report,” he said lamely as he followed her past the unused-looking living room to the stairs.

 “I thought it’d be harder than it was. Turns out I was wrong.” She shrugged and Natsu balked internally at how sedated she appeared. The stairs led up to a carpeted hallway and she took him to the door at the very end. Opening it, Natsu was bombarded repeatedly with the thought of Lucy’s room Lucy’s room Lucy’s room. Band posters, gun show ads, and social propaganda posters covered every square inch of the wall to where he didn’t know its color, and while the rectangular room could barely fit a work desk and a twin bed, a record player and small bookshelf made the place fit to burst.

 “Cramped,” he said without really thinking, and immediately clamped his mouth shut after.

 “But lived in, unlike the rest of this dump.” She took the comment in stride as she slid past everything with practiced ease to sit cross-legged on her bedspread. Natsu awkwardly stood in the doorway until she gave him an expectant look. “You gonna start sprouting leaves there or what?”

 “N-N-No, I, uh...nothing.” He bowed his head and sat at her desk, which was crammed with untouched journals, bent and dog-eared poetry books, and mismatched puzzle pieces. Lucy picked up her notebook from the bed and flipped to a random page.

 “Listen up,” she said, then started to read: “Natsu is a weak-ass who couldn’t take candy from a baby. Hell, he’d probably be jacked by the baby. Point is, he’s a noodle.” Already he felt like going home. “He’s spinelessly compliant for the most part, and when he’s not he’s an insufferable prick. But not as insufferable as his family. He’s gutless, but he wouldn’t speak out against another person, or hurt them anyhow. All of Natsu Dragion is a good person, and that’s free will.” She dropped the notebook in her laugh and looked at him with a huff. “Well?”

 Natsu gave her a gentle smile. “Lucy, I think you’ve missed the point of Fairy Tail.”

 “What?” She looked at him crossly, which he took in stride.

 “They’re not burdens I have to bear, they’re my family. We’re all family.”

 “Pretty rude-ass family you got there.” He winced; he couldn’t argue for the most part.

 “They’re not…well…they’re not the most optimistic people, not anymore, but we have this…this…” He tried and failed to find the word and gave up. “You don’t really understand us past the surface.”

 “Dragion, I know shitty adults when I see ‘em.” He could only smile again, which she didn’t take as pleasantly. “You’re makin’ fun of the wrong person,” she said, getting to her feet and cracking her knuckles. Natsu instantly went on the defensive.

 “N-N—I didn’t m-mean it like that, no!” The door opened downstairs and Lucy straightened as if by an electrical shock. Her expression changed and she marched purposely from the room and down the hall. She didn’t tell Natsu to follow, but he felt at a loss and trailed behind like a stray puppy anyway.

 She returned to the living room where Natsu was surprised to see an older woman strewn on the sofa like she simply didn’t have the energy to go further. Her blond hair was long and silky and streaked with grey, and when Natsu went around, he saw her in an unkempt server’s uniform. Lucy walked past, combing her fingers through the woman’s hair as she went to the kitchen. The woman didn’t respond.

 “U-Um, L-Lucy, it’s not my place to ask, I know, b-but is she…?”

 “It isn’t your place,” she said tonelessly, grabbing a glass from the cupboard and filling it from the tap. She set the glass down on the coffee table still with no response. Natsu swallowed.

 “M…Maybe she should go to a h-hospi—”

 “This ain’t anything new, okay? Come morning, she’ll be perfectly okay and ready to do it all again.” She pushed her fringe up and Natsu frowned at how exhausted she sounded. She glanced at him over her shoulder, then looked at the wall. He followed her gaze to a photo featuring the woman with less grey hairs and a blond, mustached man holding a laughing little girl. “Sorry if I insulted your family or whatever, but as you can see, I don’t have a splendid example of a stable one. Not anymore.”

 “Lucy…” She opened her mouth, then abruptly shut it and walked out the front door. She sat hard on the porch and pulled a cigarette from her pocket. Natsu glanced at her mother again, who still had her face buried in the cushions with no sign of life, and slowly walked out to join her. He grimaced a little at the smell of smoke as she took a long drag but didn’t complain. “Is she…ah…drugs?” he asked, fully expecting a tirade in response.

 “More like drunk off her ass,” she said without looking at him. “She’s been doing it for six years now. Can’t hold down a job, can’t hold down a conversation… If not for our relatives, we would’ve lost Papa’s house a long time ago.”

 “Why don’t you get help?”

 “She’s the one who has to get help. It ain’t for my lack of trying, me and the rest of our family.” She threw the half-finished cigarette to the concrete walkway and ground it under her sneaker.

 “I’m sorry.”

 “You didn’t make Papa sick, you didn’t turn Mama into a chicken, what do you have to be sorry for?”

 He looked her right in the eyes. “I’m sorry we both have broken families.”

 “I thought you love the people over at that bar.”

 “I’m not talking about them.” She gave him a curious look and he fidgeted with his fingers. “My father…wasn’t the n…nicest person. Not to my mom or me. He wanted her to ‘listen like a wife should.’ He wanted me to ‘grow up an’ be a fuckin’ man.’” He laughed even though nothing about it was funny. “He was… Igneel was a mean, manipulative, and secretly cowardly sunovabitch. And now he’s dead.” He choked on the word dead and almost suffocated at the memories it brought. He doubled over and saw Lucy reaching for him from the corner of his eye, and he bolted to his feet to throw up in the grass. “S…Sorry,” he muttered when he was done, dragging his hand across his mouth. Lucy was on her feet and staring at him with wide eyes.

 “He was killed?” she asked. The word hit Natsu like a blow and he had to fight to not vomit again.

 “Y…Yes, he was killed.” He sat on the grass and pulled his knees to his chest, gripping them and failing to stop his trembling. Warm, he felt warm then and he felt warm now—feverishly, dizzily warm. And his mother’s quick words in his ear; he didn’t understand then, but in the aftermath, they engraved themselves in his soul. The warmth persisted; it was years before he could sleep without twisted nightmares of that day forming.

 Lucy came up behind him and her hand rested in his hair, gently tangling in the strands. Her hand was warm too, but it didn’t make him feel faint and anxious; it was grounding, pleasant, and it made him feel a bit stronger.

 “I’m sorry.”

 “You’re not the reason he’s dead, are you? What do you have to be sorry for?” He laughed bitterly until Lucy’s hand moved to his shoulder and she crouched behind him. Her words dragged him to a pensive stop.

 “I’m sorry we’re both broken people.”

 ——————

 “This is a cruel world. You have to be crueler to survive.”

 “Spend the rest of the week sleeping outside. Maybe you’ll learn something.”

 “I’m the father! It’s my job to make sure things are in order, that my son becomes a man and my wife keeps in line. That’s the father’s job.”

 “If you don’t like me, get out. Life’s gonna fuck you in your little pussy and you’ll come running back anyway.”

 “If you don’t like fighting, you’re gonna get mauled. That’s the rule of thumb.”

 “If you don’t like me, do something about it.”

 …Do something about it? To his father? To the “head of the house?” It was a pipe dream at best, a dangerous fantasy at worst. But…but…

 “Mom!”

 Like a dream, like a fantasy, he made it reality.

 ——————

  Natsu had a headache when he woke up the next morning, and the sunlight streaming through only made it worse. He groaned and turned into his pillow.

 “Natsu…” He peeked one eye at Romeo as he struggled to climb on the bed. Natsu sat up and helped him the rest of the way. “Who’s the girl?” he asked with a little tilt to his head. Natsu rubbed his neck and yawned.

 “Lucy— Huh? Why are you asking now?”

 “Well, she’s here now.” Natsu stared dumbly for a few seconds until Romeo repeated himself.

 “She’s what?” He pushed Romeo aside and jumped to his feet. “D-Did she say why?” He was about to leave before remembering he was in his boxers. He ran to the dresser and rapidly sorted between their clothes (ugh, he had to organize that thing one day).

 “Nope.” Romeo was sitting cross-legged on Natsu’s bedspread rocking back and forth. “But she told me I’m perspicacious. I think it means cute.”

 Natsu was too engrossed in getting dressed to argue no, it did not mean cute, it meant he was probably being a know-it-all little shit to her. He picked a blue collared shirt and a pair of jeans. “Does this look fine?” he asked before remembering he was talking to a seven-year-old.

 “Why does it matter?”

 “N…No, well, I guess it doesn’t.” He smoothed his shirt automatically and Romeo inclined his head.

 “You’re acting weird, Big Brother.”

 “Me? Weird? No, nonono. I’m neurotic all the time. Typical Natsu, right? Aha!” He did an uncomfortable smile that made Romeo grimace.

 “Maybe you should lie down again.”

 “I’m fine.” Despite his words, Romeo followed at his ankles as he went to clean up in the restroom and then marched purposefully downstairs. It was still early on the weekend so many of the adults were asleep; only Mirajane, Gray, Cana, Wendy, and Juvia remained in the bar, lounging around or helping clean up from the busy night. Lucy was on a barstool turning side to side with her head lolling onto one shoulder. She wore a school sweatshirt cut to just below her breasts and high-waisted jeans. Her hair was loose and wet from a shower.

 “Natsu, your friend is back,” Mira said as way of greeting, giving him a not-so-subtle wink and grin. Natsu flushed and tried to hide in his shirt.

 “Yo.” Lucy sat up at the sight of him and smiled. It wasn’t huge and blinding by no means, but it was genuine, and it got Natsu smiling in return.

 “H…Hi.”

 “Slow burn-ass romance,” Juvia said quite loudly, deepening Natsu’s flush and getting a glare from Lucy. Then her face changed to a sinister smirk.

 “Yeah, you know what? I’m totally in love with Pinky. So, like, you should let me in on you guys’ secrets, considering I’m gonna be stickin’ around.”

 “Yeah? Kiss him.” Juvia again, and her smirk was ten times more sinister. Natsu felt Romeo tugging on the back of his shirt but ignored it in favor of some wild-eyed boggling. Seriously? She isn’t going for that. She’s not. She isn’t going for that for real is she? She wouldn’t just—oh—oh yeah nope she’s totally kissing me.

 Lucy had grabbed his face with both hands and pressed her body flush against his to snatch his lips. He could taste her green apple lip gloss and the mint toothpaste on her breath. And…and…shit. He thought only four wheels and an engine could do it, but the kiss, whatever the circumstances and reasoning behind it, stoked the fire in his belly to a roar. He grabbed her forearms, backed her against the bar until she was almost bowing into it, and deepened the kiss. In response to his heat, she melted in his grip, and Fireball relished the little mewls she made as he explored her mouth with his tongue. He wondered what sounds she would make when he explored her body, when he explored her—

 “Eww,” Romeo said before Wendy shushed him. Natsu pulled away in a rush, his face sporting a shade of red not even on the spectrum. Lucy was still leaning against the bar and supporting her body with her hands, staring off into space.

 “It’s not nice to interrupt people when they’re snogging,” Wendy told him. Romeo didn’t respond and directed his attention to Lucy.

 “Big Sister, wasn’t that gross?”

 Lucy snapped out of her fugue and turned to face him. “Uh, well— Big Sister?” She began weirdly fidgety, but suddenly looked at Romeo with wide eyes. Romeo nodded from where he sat on Wendy’s lap and Lucy broke into a wide grin. “Big Sister knows how to handle herself in the face of creeps,” she said, putting extra emphasis on her new title.

 “I…I’m a creep?”

 “Well, you’re trying to get with Big Sister,” Romeo said quite matter-of-factly. Wendy patted his head.

 “Lucy’s not our sister.”

 “Not yet,” he said, “but she likes Big Brother.”

 He was only a kid and his words left Natsu mortified all the same. He ducked his head and asked Mira for a couple glasses of fire whiskey. “You’ve a very adorable wingman.” Lucy grinned at Natsu and he slid a glass her way, sitting next to her.

 “I don’t mean it offensively, but why did you come?”

 “No offense taken. Well, I want to know more about you. And, well, you kinda fled the other day.”

 “Yeah. Um. Sorry that I…fled. It was…” scary, terrifying, horrifying, traumatizing, “…I’m sorry.”

 “It’s another thing we have in common: we’re excellent runners.” She took a sip of whiskey and set the glass down quietly. “Not really a good thing.”

 “No, it’s not.” He took a sip as well and sighed. Mira, who had disappeared for a moment, returned with a plate starring a mushroom omelet for Lucy.

 “I didn’t pay for this,” she said. Mira winked.

 “Breakfast is on the house today.” Natsu gave her a squinty look knowing it was bullshit and she giggled before going back to the kitchen. Lucy pushed it around a bit before cutting in and taking a bite.

 “Wow. This is, like, orgasmic.” She proceeded to stuff her face with it and make very unladylike noises at the flavor, making Natsu warm for an entirely different, not so unpleasant reason.

 “U-Um, Lucy, m-maybe you should…not…should not make those…s-sounds.”

 “Shove it.” And she was back to the Lucy he knew. Honestly, he was a little relieved for it.

 “A-Anyway…there’s not much more to learn about me. You can talk to my friends here?”

 “Seriously.”

 “Ooh, yes, I am very curious to meet the girl Natsu’s making out with.” Natsu started when he realized how close Wendy had gotten, leaning over the counter with her cleavage in his face. “Nice to meet you, Big Sister. My name’s Wendy.”

 “Hmm? Yeah, pleasure’s mine or something.” Lucy looked at Wendy’s tits, then her own, then noticed Wendy was holding Romeo’s hand. “Little brother,” she said, then smiled. Romeo turned his face into Wendy’s legs and she ruffled his hair.

 “He’s a little uncomfortable around people.” She jerked her chin at Gray and Cana’s table. “Gray is the human cocoon over there. Nice guy, but he wears too many layers. And Cana is—”

 “Oh, yes, I know Cana,” Lucy said with a not-so-pleasant tone of voice. “I’ve seen Gray around. Hard to miss.”

 “Well then, you’re already partway there.” She tugged a lock of Lucy’s hair and stopped to gawk. “Your hair is really soft. How do you get it like this?”

 “Don’t really know.” She let Wendy play with the strands and Natsu wished he could as well without it being too weird.

 “Wakaba and Macao are a couple of the oldest regulars. We don’t know what they do when they’re not here though. Mira’s the barmaid and chef; she and Levy room together. Jet and Droy, Juvia, Cana, Laki, Warren, Nab, and Max are the early-birds around here; they start early and you usually don’t see them until the evening.”

 “So who’s the owner?” It was an innocent question that instantly dimmed the bar’s mood. Wendy bit her lip, Natsu averted his eyes, Gray stared at his hands, Juvia clenched her fists, and Cana’s eyes turned glassy. Romeo was the one who answered.

 “He was um, he was extra-diction.”

 “Extradited to Russia some years ago. He’s been imprisoned ever since.” Lucy turned to where Mira was standing, her head lowered and eyes distant. “We never found out what he did.”

 “If he did anything,” Juvia said.

 “Gramps had the kindest heart of anyone around. We can’t imagine him committing a crime so serious they’d drag him transnationally,” Gray said softly.

 “Because he wouldn’t,” Wendy said with finality. “And we’ve never stopped fighting it.”

 Lucy looked between them all before her eyes landed on Natsu. He nodded. “And we won’t ever stop."

 “Family…” She shook her head and straightened, throwing her hands in the air. “So, what do you guys do for fun around here?”

 Wendy smirked. “Ever play King’s Cup?”

 Lucy did not in fact play King’s Cup, and Natsu, while not speaking up, loathed the aftermath. Since Romeo and Cana couldn’t participate, they sat on the side as Mira set one table with six glasses, filling five of them with Guinness, and set a deck of cards next to the empty one. They took their seats and Natsu was the first to pick up.

 “Queen,” he muttered, turning it towards everyone. Juvia, Lucy, and Wendy grabbed their glasses and drank.

 “Okay, okay.” Wendy set the emptied glass down and took a card, flipping it out. “Seven.” Gray was the last to put his arm up since he had so many layers to work with, so he drank.

 “My turn.” Juvia had a wicked smile as she took her card and flashed the 5. “When Lucy drinks, Natsu drinks twice as much.”

 “Seriously?” Natsu cried. It went unnoticed as Gray drew.

 “Nine.” He thought for a moment, shivered, then said, “Cold.”

 “Sold,” Lucy said.

 “Uh…gold,” Natsu said.

 “Mold.”

 “Told.”

 “Bold,” Gray said. Lucy hesitated for a second and Wendy grinned.

 “Let’s go, Big Sister.”

 “Hey, sometimes you hafta know when you take a loss gracefully, as women do.” Natsu gave her a look as she gulped her beer and slammed the glass down. Graceful, my a—

 “Natsu, aren’t you forgetting something?” Juvia said. Natsu drank down his glass and the following glass when Mira refilled it. On Wendy’s turn, she drew 3, so she drank three. Juvia drew a King and the guys drank. Gray drew an Ace and everyone raised their glasses. Lucy choked before Natsu was done, and she had to take another glass as punishment; duly, Natsu drank two glasses after. He was racking up five total, and on an empty stomach, he was past his limit.

 “Alright, Bimbo-gami, take this.” Lucy held up her card, a 2, and Juvia gulped her glass. “Geddit? Bimbo with those tits, and a binbōgami is bad luck.” For how drunk she sounded, her intelligence was still impeccable.

 “M’kay, my turn.” Natsu grabbed a bunch of cards by accident and let them flutter back to the table until he was left with one. “That’s a 4. Gray, yer gonna take two, an’ I take two.” They did their drinks and Gray, at the end of it, started peeling away some jackets.

 “It’s hot as hell in here,” he said with a grimace, tossing his topmost layers to the ground and leaving himself in a black turtleneck. The game continued until there were two dozen empty beer bottles clanging around, Gray was down to his skivvies, Wendy was passed out cold and the warmth was reaching new heights in the pit of Natsu’s gut.

 “Okay, okay, so’s I gotta 10,” Juvia slurred, holding up the card. “I say you guys gotta name your top pick fer hot an’ heavy sex. F’me, a kiddie pool.”

 “Chocolate parfait.” Lucy gave a crooked smile and swirled the last dregs of beer around in her glass. Her shirt had ridden up the last time they raised their hands and she wasn’t in a state to notice; the hem sat at the crest of her black lacy bra.

 “Natsu, ‘s on you.”

 “Sugar Tits,” he said without missing a beat. She looked at him with a confused murmur and he grabbed her wrist, getting to his feet and pulling her up as well. “Let’s go fer a ride.”

 “Too drunk,” she said, stumbling along behind him as he went to the backdoor. “Yer too drunk off yer ass, Dragion.”

 “I know.”

 “Then don’t drive, stoo-pid.”

 “Who said ‘nythin’ ‘bout driving?” He slammed the door open and burst into the sunlight where he pulled her along to his car. It took a moment of fumbling with the keys before he got the passenger door open, and he forced the seat forward and pushed her into the back. He shut the door and settled between her raised knees, kneeling between her legs.

 “Natsu—” she said, then was cut off when he devoured her lips in a searing kiss.

 “M’mouth tastes like ass,” he said once he pulled away, pinning her wrists against the seat. “Let me taste something better.” He kissed the junction of shoulder and neck before sucking the same spot, earning a long and delicious groan from her in response. Her body proved enjoyably receptive as he continued showering her neck and jaw with attention. She trembled like a purring engine, spurring to life when he handled her just so.

 “N-Naat…suuu…” Her breath hitched when he gave the back of her ear a long, slow lick, then she cried out as her body bowed outwards. He grinned at the sight and straightened, releasing her wrists to fumble drunkenly with the buttons of her jeans.

 “Mm. One part I haven’t tasted yet…”

 ——————

 Often times Fireball wondered Laki’s story. He only saw her in the dead of the night in a fishnet top and denim shorts, and she never spoke to him; her presence began with a swing of her arm and ended as he crossed the finish line. His eyes narrowed against the glare of the streetlamps to catch the swing now.

 Three…two…and go.

 He hit the gas and sped off in time with his two opponents. There was nothing else, nothing but the moonlight shining from the leaves surrounding the thin roads at the city limit, the sound of the engine, the night air crisp and clean in his throat—

 “Mm…smells like sex in here.”

 “Wonder why?”

 “You’re a coy asshole.”

 He gritted his teeth and clenched the steering wheel a bit tighter. He walked himself into deep shit with Lucy, he knew that well. The problem was finding his way out again while loathing every step he took away from her. He couldn’t…he could stand her knowing his petty problems, but the big secret… No, she couldn’t learn of that. forget the consequences involved, he didn’t want her to walk from his life as she surely would.

 His reverie made him fall behind a driver and he laid on the gas to regain his head start. Regardless of his activities with a certain blonde, he had to win. Not so much for the money, which he earned a fair bit of from Metallicana, but the peace of mind a simple victory brought. Without that, he’d probably be as self-destructive as his old man.

 They finished a lap as they circled past Laki and the cheers of the onlookers chased Natsu along the track. The adrenaline fueled the fire in his belly and he depressed the pedal as far as it could go, gaining a burst of speed on the straightaway. The next road led into a sharp curve and he caught it at a slow drift that carried him too close into the opponent’s BMW. The cars ground against each other as the road straightened and the BMW, with better positioning, shoved Natsu towards the grass on the side. He lost his traction and speed and lost a lot of ground in the race.

 Dammit, dammit! Get your head out of your ass!

 He got back on the road but finished the lap in last place. The third lap, too, he was a couple cars’ length from the others. His jaw was clenched so tightly it hurt. I have to get ahead. Push, push, nothing matters but the race, the wind, the sound of the engine, the taste of the night…Lucy’s lips taste sweeter than the night—

 Police sirens weren’t a foreign sound in the neighborhood, but they came so close Natsu immediately hit the brakes, skidding to a stop on the dirt alongside the other two. Cop cars materialized from the night and everyone in the vicinity disappeared save for the drivers. Natsu watched the closest car as the doors opened, revealing a striking figure with short hair the color of fresh blood. Nightwalker.

 “Make this easier on yourselves and exit the vehicles now,” she said, making no effort to hide the pistol strapped to her hips. The three of them stood up from their seats and put their hands in the air, none happily. Corporal Nightwalker’s eyes raked over them, sharp as blades. “Reitei Lyon, Sorano, and—” Her eyes narrowed on Natsu. “Natsu Dragion.”

 “A-Ah…” He flinched back at the fiery intensity of her gaze, falling back into the driver’s seat. Nightwalker’s officers advanced on the other two while her sights remained on him.

 “Don’t try to run. There’s no corner of Edolas you can run to now.” Her boots kicked up dust as she walked towards him, purposefully but at a moderate pace, knowing she had him on lock. He stared with wide eyes and his heart feeling like it would jump out any second. “Your street racing has reached its climax.”

 Street racing. Street racing. Despite himself, relief flooded his veins and he put up no fight as she cuffed him. She mentioned his car would be impounded and the cost of bail, but it was small change. His most serious offense had yet to come collect, and he was relieved. After all, what would Lucy think of him knowing he killed his own father?

[crashdevlin]

Good Things: Part 2

part one 

You were lucky, when the demon started making its way through the wake, to be wearing a silver anti-possession amulet. Elvis, Alicia and Jody weren't so lucky. 

At one point, you were searching the manor with Mary, the stunningly beautiful and young mother Winchester. "I saw how Dean was looking at you. His father used to look at me like that." She said, quietly, not looking at you. She concentrated on clearing the room.

"Oh?" You couldn't think of anything better to say.

"I rejected John when he first asked me out. He was a Marine. I didn't want a soldier. Spent my whole life around hunters, didn't need more of the macho BS in my world." Mary finally turned to look at you. "Dean looks at you like he's trying to figure out how to win you over."

You cleared your throat. "I... don't... Dean has a reputation." You weren't sure why that was what came out of your mouth.

"I've heard." She confirmed.

"And I'd've been fine with that rep, but he was talking about some chick he had a connection with and I'm not the kind of chick guys like Dean cheat on their girlfriends with... I mean... I can't... Look at me."

"He doesn't have a girlfriend." Mary put her hand on your shoulder. "You should talk to him when this is over."

You did. After the exorcism, as you were watching Asa, Randy and Elvis being sent home in smoke, you bit your lip and approached him. "Thought I should actually say 'Goodbye' this-"

"You should come to breakfast with us." He interrupted. "We're takin' Mom to get some bacon. What do you say?"

You smiled. "Well, does this look like a body that says 'no' to bacon?"

You sat between Sam and Jody in a diner booth in North Dakota. Dean sat across from you, sharing a large plate of bacon with Mary. "Okay, craziest thing you've ever hunted?" Dean asked.

"Uh, probably the transsexual witch who cursed her community college to wake up in the body of someone of the opposite sex so they'd understand how she felt." You answered, before taking a bite of pancake.

"When you say 'she'..." Sam trailed off. It was a genuinely curious question.

"Born 'Michael', became 'Michelle'."

"What'd you do with her?" Mary asked, drinking down some coffee.

"Well, she hadn't actually hurt anyone, just confused the fuck out of 'em for about 16 hours, and she did it out of an overwhelming desire to be understood, so I put her in contact with a Wiccan priestess I know. Last I heard, she was flourishing in her new coven, really embraced the 'Harm ye none' thing."

"Wicca is new agey white-" Dean started to explain, but Mary shot him a death glare.

"Gardnerian witchcraft has been around since the Fifties, Dean. 'Wicca' replaced 'Witch' because the hippies wanted to beat the negative connotations, wanted everyone to know they weren't wart-covered crones in candy houses trying to curse everyone and eat little children."

"Oh, we met her." Sam spoke up.

"Who?" You and Jody chimed in together.

"The witch from 'Hansel and Gretel'. She was turning crappy adults into shitty kids so that she could eat them. Hansel was in on it."

You looked between the brothers. "You're bullshitting."

"Swear to God. She was one of the last old-timey witches from the Grand Coven. Probably only a small handful of 'em left. Rowena doesn't count." Dean answered Sam's unasked question.

"Who's Rowena?"

"A tiny Scottish ball of fury and dark magic. Not really evil, but definitely not one of the good guys." Dean responded.

"She got kicked out of the Grand Coven for being too ambitious." Sam followed up.

"Not to mention: you know Crowley? That's his mom."

"Crowley, the demon?" You asked.

"Crowley, the douchebag." Jody snorted derisively.

You laughed. "Okay. Somebody else, weirdest hunt you ever been on?"

"There was a Shifter who spent a year following Paul Simon's tour. He was killing people who had tickets to the shows so he could take their spot." Mary said, around a piece of bacon.

"Being the reason Bobby Singer found out Leviathans are allergic to borax was pretty weird." Jody provided.

"What's a Leviathan?"

"They almost ate the world, what, five years ago?" Sam asked Dean, who nodded. "They were seriously low-key about it, though. I'm not surprised you haven't heard of them."

"You sound like a hipster." You laughed. "So, what about you two? The legendary Winchester Brothers must have been on some ridiculous hunts."

"Oh, all kinds. Let's see, top of my head. Bloody Mary, killer clown ghost, haunted movie set where I got really into my role as PA, we killed Santa, the angels once wiped our memories and gave us new identities working office jobs. There was that time with the dragons. Oh, and when we went back in time and met Samuel Colt and killed a phoenix." Dean went through the list alternating between excitement and boredom.

"Not to forget everything Gabriel did to us. That was all ridiculous. Oh, and that alternate universe Balthazar sent us to where our lives were a moderately successful primetime TV show." Sam added.

"And Chuck's books about us."

"And finding out that Chuck was God."

"And not dying in the dust-up between God and his sister." Dean turned to Mary with a smile. "And getting Mom back as reward for mediating a reconciliation between them."

You stared at the table, going through everything you just heard. "Holy shit." You gasped out, finally. "I... I knew you guys started and stopped the apocalypse a few times, but... holy shit. Back and forth through time, alternate realities, you know God and he has a sister?!"

"You should stick around. We're bound to blow your mind some more. Crowley and our angel friend, Cas, are working together to find Lucifer, who was most recently seen in the body of has-been glam rocker, Vince Vincente."

"Oh, holy... Lucifer was in Ladyheart."

"No, Lucifer was in a dude who was in Ladyheart." Dean corrected.

"Wow. Your lives really are legendary."

"Well, you never know. Stick around. It might rub off on you. Then, you could be a legend." Jody nudged you, lightly, as Mary looked down with a smile. The moms were conspiring together.

"Yeah, well... I'm not sure if I could handle that."

"You don't know til you try, do you?" Dean smirked at you from across the table.

You took a deep breath. You had one more tool in your tool-bag to try to fend off whatever the hell was happening here: blunt, honest confrontation. "You are putting in a lot of effort here to get your 'I Fucked A Fatty' badge, aren't'cha?"

Everyone at the table jerked and the mood immediately fell into a limbo of apprehension as Dean blinked at you. "What?" He said after several long seconds.

"Oh, come on. This is obviously some Playboy Scavenger Hunt, right? Your list of conquests, a 'Fuck-it List'?" You took a bite of your pancake and looked pointedly across the table at him. "I'm a novelty, right? Bang a black chick, bang a latina, a milf, a mature... twins?"

Dean nodded, slowly, and licked his lips. "You think I've been flirting with you, trying to get you in bed, so that I can cross 'fat chick' off my list? Just makin' sure I got this right." You took a drink of your coffee and returned his uncomfortable gaze. He nodded again, then leaned forward. "When I was twenty-three, I met a chick named Ursula Green at a bar. She was five-foot-nothing, three hundred pounds, wearing a red halter top and a skirt with a split in the side clean up to her hip. She danced like no one was watching and threw a beer bottle at the redneck who told her to 'take her fat ass home' and I grabbed two nice big handfuls of her ass when I took her back to her home that night."

You swallowed. His green eyes bored into your soul as he continued. "She crossed 'fat chick' off my list." The way he said it was like he couldn't believe he was saying those words. "Now, I don't know what you've heard about me and I'm sure that I've earned a bit of that reputation... but I am not gonna sit here and let you think that I've been talkin' to you just because you're a little on the chunky side and that makes you a novelty. I don't know what kinda men you generally let into your life, y/n, but I don't play games like that."

You opened your mouth but no words came out. The other three occupants of the booth table all looked very uncomfortable, so you cleared your throat and stood. You threw a ten dollar bill on the table and walked out of the diner. 

"Where the hell are you going?"

"I'm going home, Dean." You grabbed the handle of your driver's side door and pulled your key.

"Yeah, I got eyes, y/n." He growled, putting a hand on your car door to keep you from opening it. "Why?"

You turned to him, exasperated. "Because I don't know what to do!" You shouted, pulling away from your door and leaned against the backseat window. 

"I've never had a man want me for anything more than a single-night novelty fuck, or worse a pity fuck, Dean, and I don't know what to do about a man like you wanting-"

"What do you mean, 'a man like me'?" Dean interrupted.

"A preposterously handsome biblical hero who shouldn't even look at a woman like me."

"What do you mean 'a woman like you'?" Dean shook his head. "Look, y/n, more than what I saw from you last year and-and what I saw from you with Jael last night, I have asked about you. Every hunter I've talked to since Spirit Lake has a story about you, some way that you've helped them in the past." You opened your mouth to argue that you weren't anything special and you'd always just done what any hunter would do, but Dean stepped closer to you and you were suddenly struck with how tall the man was. "You think outside the box, you put others first, you are the epitome of selfless and goddamn it, you're gorgeous."

You looked down. "That's not true..."

"Stop acting like you don't see it." Dean demanded.

For some reason you needed to resist him. "See what? I've got mirrors in my house, Winchester. I see-"

"You obviously don't see. You don't see what I see."

"Are you kidding me?! You really expect me to believe that you met me, spent two days with me, and I-I somehow impressed you enough that you've spent the last year with me on your mind? I'm not an idiot!"

"Yeah, not an idiot but you sure are blind." Dean took another step closer to you, looking down at you with a confused annoyance. "Fuck, y/n. Why the hell won't you-"

"Because it's too good to be true!" You exclaimed, pushing off from the side of your car and standing up to him, ignoring that his height was so intimidating. 

"Good things don't happen to me, Dean, they never have. So when I have a stunningly handsome man telling me I'm gorgeous, it sets off my bullshit alarm."

"Good things don't happen to you because you run away as soon as they start!" Dean insisted. "You think those extra pounds around your middle are your defining characteristic, but they aren't. That weight is nothing and you need to stop focusing so much on it. I didn't even clock you as fat until you started that shit inside. This isn't bullshit, y/n. I leave my lies for when I'm on a hunt."

You bit your lip and looked up into his stunning green eyes. "Dean, I-"

His face softened. "I'm not trying to get you to jump in bed with me, y/n." He reached out and brushed a stray hair out of your face. His hand rested against your ear and his fingers twirled your hair. "But don't run. Stay. Let the good things happen... in their own time."

You pulled your phone out of your pocket and presented it to him. "Put your number in. I'll text you."

"You're still gonna leave?" He asked, disappointed, as he took a step back and took the phone out of your hand.

"I've got a hunt in Tennessee. Only reason I'm not on it already was for Asa." You answered. "But... I'm interested in... letting the good thing... this good thing... happen."

"The cautious approach. I'm all right with that." He said, tapping his thumbs against the screen of your cell phone. "I just texted myself so that I have your number, too. A warning: I drunk text." He smiled as he handed your phone back.

"Okay. As long as you don't send pictures I haven't requested... I'm okay with that."

"There gonna be pictures you do request?"

You chuckled, turning your forgotten key in the driver's door. "Maybe, Winchester."

"Can I request pictures?" He asked, as you got into your car.

"Not yet." You smiled as you turned your engine over and headed out. 

Part Three

[hockyeah]

spooked : kleinphy

a/n: ok so hi @beaniejared !! its trumpet anon!! merry christmas!! congrats on dealing with my endless pestering for the entire month (wow!!) all self deprecating jokes aside, i had so much fun being your santa! heres a very kleinphy halloween, because i saw that your boys wanted halloween and ran with it ( @dear-evan-hansen-secret-santa )

warnings: they go to a haunted house but it's mostly fluff

word count: 3791

rated t for these fucking gays swear so much 

“Ow! Zoe, fuck off with that hairbrush or I’ll shove it up your ass.” Connor complained, swatting away her attempts to fix his hair.

“Connor, watch your language and be nice to your sister.” Cynthia tutted, adjusting the bow on her witch hat. Connor scowled, adjusting his headband. He turned to look at his sister, who was now brushing her own hair before dividing it into sections and braiding them.

“Sorry.” He said without remorse. Zoe stuck her tongue out at him childishly, and Connor had to bite back the instinct to do it back.

It had been her idea to go to a haunted house. Connor had been put off by the idea at first (weren’t they much too old to be celebrating halloween like that?), but, thanks to his sister’s constant begging and a fair share of bribery, he had agreed. It was later that he found out that it had actually been Alana’s idea. And she had invited Jared Kleinman, who had, in turn invited Evan Hansen.

So he was stuck going to a fucking haunted house that probably wasn’t even scary with a band of four other people. And that wasn’t even the worst part. The worst had to be that his mother was so positively delighted that he was spending time with other people that she had to eject herself into their lives, managing to be more excited than either of the siblings.

Most of Connor said that this was an awful idea, that he was going to absolutely hate it, and it would be better to fuck off and get high at some party. But, he had to admit, there was some small part of his that was excited for this recreation of his childhood. And, to be doing it with a group people who genuinely tried to understand and get along with him? He couldn’t ask for anything better.

That being said, the night would still probably be total hell.

“I have to run to the store for tea lights for our pumpkins, if you guys leave before I get back, just shoot me a text.” Cynthia stood, grabbing her car keys and running out the door.

Connor truly didn’t understand why his mother suddenly cared so much about Halloween. It was probably because she hadn’t had two children celebrating halloween together since Connor was thirteen.

Halloween used to be his favorite holiday. Forget Christmas, forget his birthday, Halloween was the one holiday where no one would look at his oddly, no one would expect any gratitude in return. There were no stuffy family traditions that he would have to sit through. It was just him and Zoe, dressed up in whatever costume they had decided on that year.

But suddenly, when he hit high school, his father deemed him too old to trick-or-treat, and insisted he stay behind. He hadn’t wanted any of the younger children to be scared. That part had stung, but Connor couldn’t fight back, instead having locked himself in his room for that first year, and fucked off to some party for all the succeeding years. But now, a glimmer of hope shown, through Zoe trying to genuinely connect with him, in the form of a group activity and a shitty sibling costume.

“Connor,” Zoe waved a hand in front of his face, snapping him out of his thoughts, “you here? Alana just pulled up.” Connor scrunched his face up and backed away from her hand, standing up. Zoe tugged at the wings on his back. “Be careful how you sit, you may fuck your wings up.”

“Oh, and I would hate for that to happen.” He remarked sarcastically. Zoe playfully hit him on the back of his head, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the front door. He laughed sharply, letting the hint of a smile flit across his features. He looked at his sister’s costume, a pair of red devil horns in her hair and a belt with a pointed tail attached wrapped around her waist.

He was the angel, she was the devil. It was a classic role reversal, and Connor found it hilarious that Zoe had come up with the idea. He walked up to Alana’s car, the sun already beginning to set over the loose hills. Zoe ran past him.

“Shotgun!” she yelled, opening the car door to find Jared Kleinman already sitting in the passenger seat. “Get out, Jared.” she demanded playfully.

Jared Kleinman was something of an anomaly to Connor. He managed to worm his way into everything he ever tried to do, and refused to get out, like some disgusting parasite. However, something about him was endearing, something kept Connor pushing for more, always arguing back and forth. His insults used to sting, but now, the encouraged an equally shitty reply and from a light blush to bloom on his cheeks.

To say he had a crush on something as utterly repulsive as Jared Kleinman? Completely false. Connor swallowed at the thoughts, forcing himself back into the scene unfolding in this driveway.

“No way! I was here first.” He retailed. Alana leaned over, unbuckling Jared’s seatbelt for him. Jared bleated loudly, sending a sideways glance at the girl in the driver’s seat. “What the fuck? I’m being teamed up on, this is bullying-”

“Sorry, Jared. I’m the driver, I have final say, and I say that Zoe’s sitting up here. Better luck next time, bucko.” She smiled sweetly, letting Jared slide out of the seat, surrendering it to the smug look on Zoe’s face. Connor climbed into the backseat, watching for the disappointed look on Jared’s face when he, too, climbed in and saw that he was spending his time in the backseat with no other than Connor Murphy.

“Ah!” Jared yelled at the sight of Connor, “Hey there, Hot Topic, don’t worry, the halo doesn’t detracted from the whole edgelord persona.” Earlier in the year, Connor may have been angered by Jared’s remarks, but now, he knew that the brutal insults that they traded was just another type of banter, even if many thought that they were constantly at each other’s throats.

“Oh, and I can see that my favorite asshole didn’t bother dressing up, he’s already scary enough.” Connor shot back. Alana snorted from the front seat. Jared fanned himself, false tears springing to his eyes.

“I’m your favorite?” He asked, batting his eyelashes, “I could cry.” He dropped his dramatics. “Don’t accuse me of not having a costume, Murphy. I’m not as uncultured as you think I am. It’s just in the back because I didn’t want to bend it.”

“He’s not lying.” Alana said from the driver’s seat. “I had to help him load it.”

“Whatever.” Connor grumbled, pulling his legs onto the seat. “Isn’t Evan coming?” He was not sitting next to Jared’s infuriating ass this entire car trip. It wasn’t that Jared even got on his nerves anymore, and that’s truly what scared Connor more than any haunted house ever would.

“Nope.” Alana responded. “He said Heidi managed to get the night off, and he thought it a haunted house would be too much for his anxiety.” Connor nodded. Evan would quite possibly flip shit at anything remotely scary. Even if Jared was annoying, he wasn’t prepared to deal with Evan bawling his eyes out. It wasn’t Evan’s fault either, and Connor made a mental note to tell him he was missed.

“So you’re stuck with me, edgelord.” Jared gested playfully. Over the past few months, his insults had lost their edge, sharp taunts becoming a form of playful banter between the two.

“Unfortunately, shortass.” He grumbled, looking out the window, the trees racing past highlighting the brilliant orange backdrop of the sinking sun. It would be dark soon, long shadows already sliding across the paved roads. Alana turned onto a small road, following signs for the haunted house. It was a recurring fixture in their small town, open only August through November, and apparently making a killing.  

“Woah, that’s a low blow!” Jared fired at him.

“Maybe because you’re so close to the ground.” Connor immediately shot back, smiling in spite of himself.

“You’re so mean to me.” Jared pouted, but his words were laced with laughter. In the low lighting of the sunset, he looked like he was glowing. Connor took a spare moment to admire his face, but quickly shied away, quashing the warmth blossoming in his chest. Now was not the time to fixate on the entrancing fucker.

Alana turned into a heavy populated parking lot (the house was apparently a very desirable Halloween hangout) and maneuvered through the grid of cars, pulling into an open space.

“Get out of my car.” She commanded, pulling out her keys and unlocking the doors as the lights blinked on.

“Wow, someone’s bossy.” Zoe retorted cheekily, opening her door.

“Is that a bad thing, Ms. Murphy?” Alana teased. Connor saw a faint blush scatter itself on his sister’s lightly freckled cheeks and gagged.

“Get a room.” He jeered. Zoe turned and stuck her tongue out at him for the second time that night. He flicked her off in return.

He exited the car, shutting the door after him. Jared had popped the trunk, removing his costume, a large white sign emblazoned with black letters.

“Nudist on strike.” Jared read  his sign aloud, seeming very pleased with himself. He pulled the sign over his head.

“You think  you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?” Connor asked him, biting his lip to stop from laughing.

“Oh Connor, darling, I don’t just think it. I know it.” Jared batted his eyelashes, slamming the car door shut so that the lights blinked off. Connor blushed at this appropriated pet name, but disguised it before it was too noticeable. The two followed Zoe and Alana towards the house, standing in a line with swarms of people. Alana purchased their tickets, smiling sweetly at the tired looking teen taking their cash.

“Okay, miss. There’s a few simple rules here. Firstly, no flashlights. It ruins the fun. Secondly, do not harm our actors. There are real people underneath that makeup. And, finally,” He delivered the line with tired impatience. “Try to make it out alive.”  He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and Connor truly felt sorry for him.

There were hundreds of people, all roughly in groups of four or five like their own. Many were costumed, too, bright wigs and long capes adding to the scene. Jared got far too many compliments on his cheeky costume, but that was just Connor’s opinion.

They followed the line of people into the front door of the haunted house, where they waited another ten minutes, (Within this time, Alana and Zoe had discreetly grabbed each other’s hands, but Connor chose not to say anything) and then were directed inside the house, the door slamming behind them, and with it, any light left fleeing from the room.

Suddenly, the group was bathed in darkness.

Connor looked around, immediately disoriented. He grabbed the closest thing he could find to steady himself.

“Murphy! Paws off!” Jared squawked, breaking the silence. Connor released Jared hesitantly, his eyes slowly adjusting to the room.

“Zoe? Alana?” He called, hoping they weren’t too far. When no response came, he returned his grip to Jared’s shoulders. Jared grumbled in disagreement, but didn’t bother shoving Connor’s hands off as he had before.

“They probably went ahead of us already, no biggie.” Jared explained. Connor noticed the slightest hint of shakiness in his voice, smirking slightly in the dark.

“Well, we can’t just stand here forever. Let’s get moving. Maybe we’ll catch up?” Connor tried, reluctantly letting go of Jared to continue going what he hoped was forward.

“Maybe.” Jared replied from behind him, catching up so that they were walking side by side. They entered the next room, a large hallway dimly lit by two candles at the end. Portraits of all shapes and sizes lined the room, eerie faces with eyes far too realistic for Connor’s taste. He resisted the urge to once again attached himself to Jared, instead bravely leading the way, ignoring the way the eyes seemed to follow him, sticking to his neck like heavy molasses.

They reached the end of the hall without incidence, passing by the final portrait. A hand shot out from the picture, almost like it was coming out of the painting itself, and grabbed Connor’s arm. He jumped several feet, and, judging from the small screech and the battery of curse behind him, a similar fate had befallen Jared.

“Piss off! Skedaddle! Get the fuck away! Shoo!” Jared reached down, unattaching the hand that was clamped around his ankle. Connor repeated the motion on his extra hand, the appendage shooting back inside as if nothing had happened in the first place. Connor turned back to look at Jared.

“That was…” He was breathing heavily.

“Terrifying? Invasive? Utterly petrifying?” Jared supplied.

“Any of the three. Let’s keep going.” Connor nodded, letting Jared lead the way. They turned into another room, a bedroom type scene. It was dimly lit as before, smelling musty and looking about the same. Connor pointedly tried to ignore the figure pointedly wrapped in white sheets in the childlike bed.

Jared walked through with the same hesitance as before, holding his hands up on the defensive. Connor trained his eyes ahead, promising himself to not look backwards. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

“Who the fuck is touching my hair.” He squeezed his eyes shut momentarily. Jared whipped around, looking at him, his eyes widening. A slight, childish giggle sounded from behind him.

Whatever, Connor told himself, you signed up for this. And with that, he too turned around, finding himself face to face with a grotesquely mottled girl. She smiled a toothless grin, and had it been any other situation, Connor would have stopped to admire her makeup. But instead, his fight or flight instinct kicked in, and he turned to lock eyes with Jared, pleading for him to run.

Jared took his cue, flinging open the door and plunging himself into the darkness. Connor followed, taking extra care to shut the door after him. The two ran, side by side, through the dark hallway, not stopping to care, only wanting to reach the next room without encountering another creepy companion.

“Connor, is it just me,” they had stopped running, both panting from the exertion, “or is this hallway getting smaller?” He looked around wearily. Connor’s eyes, now adjusted to the dark, looked into Jared’s beady small ones. He glanced around, coming to a darkening conclusion.

“I’m pretty sure it is.” He affirmed, cursing internally. Why had he let Zoe drag him out to this? He knew that there was no real danger other than maybe a few bumps or bruises, but still, if anything, this trip had proved that he was a bigger pussy than he thought.

The hallway was beginning to shift, the painted walls slowly transforming into something softer and more constricting. Connor let Jared lead the way, resisting, for the millionth time, the urge to cling to Jared like a scared puppy.

“This stuff is so fucking weird. I think it’s like foam or some shit.” Jared poked one of the walls experimentally.

“Do we keep going?” Connor asked.

“No, we dig our way out. Of course we keep going.” Jared retorted, sarcasm lacing his words, and took a step forward into the closing cavity. The two slid through the hallway, eventually turning on their sides to fit through. Connor found himself short of breath, the restricting cavern freezing the air in his lungs. Jared must have noticed something, because he spoke up.

“Just breathe, Murphy. It’s like music. In for four, hold for four, out for four.” He instructed, demonstrating the pattern on himself. Connor mimicked this, steeling his gut. He was not going to have a panic attack in the middle of a haunted house in front of Jared Kleinman. If not at the very bottom of his to-do list, it was very close to the end of “things I want to do in front of Jared Kleinman.”

Jared was the first to push through, landing them in a very normal looking staircase. It was the first properly lighted room in the house, and Connor blinked, readjusting to the light. He and Jared shared a look of disbelief. This looked too good to be true, but they continued descending the stairs, finally reaching the door at the end of the flight.

“God, this is the last fucking time I go along with anything Zoe plans.” Connor said, looking at Jared and shaking his head. Jared raised an eyebrow.

“Well, I’d say it was a bonding experience.” Jared reasoned.

“Oh, shut the fuck up.” Connor retorted. They had stopped at the closed door, both too uneasy to open it.

“Wouldn’t you agree, Connie?” Jared batted his eyelashes. Connor would almost call it adorable, if the offending person was anyone but Jared.

“God, call me that again and I’ll punch your fucking lights out.” Connor threatened, but the heat wasn’t there. He found the term near-endearing, and the thought of that repulsed him so much that he shoved it to the back crevice of his mind, planning never to think of it again.

Jared finally reached for the door swinging it open slowly. Connor felt himself bracing for impact, thinking that something had to go wrong. He squeezed his eyes closed, tensing his tall frame.

And nothing happened. He cracked open his eyes, the door revealing a dark and musty looking room. It wasn’t appealing, but, then again, nothing about the excursion had been. He looked over at Jared, the portly boy shrugging weakly and stepping into the room.

A mechanical noise ripped through the air, and Connor instinctively looked over his shoulder. He swore, yanking Jared around so they both faced the bloodied mask of a ghoulish creature bearing a chainsaw. It stepped towards the pair, Connor gawking.

“Oh, for fucks sake!” Jared swore loudly. Connor grabbed Jared’s hand instinctively and bolted, dragging him through the dark room and into another, somehow even mustier room, the low hanging ceiling adorned with webs and spiders. Connor hoped they weren’t real, still gripping Jared’s hand. The two tore into the room, shoulders dripping with cotton webs, and stopped to catch their breath.

“Why are you such a pussy?” Jared asked between gulps of air.

“I’d ask the same of you.” Connor responded. Jared flicked him the bird, still clenching his hand tightly. Suddenly, the rip of the annoying, probably not even real (but still petrifying) chainsaw came back into earshot, and Jared and Connor locked eyes again. Jared bolted this time, yanking Connor along. The sound was getting closer and closer, and, even if Connor knew he wouldn’t get hurt, fear still coursed through his veins. Jared yanked him sharply, pulling him around a corner Connor didn’t even know existed. It was only when he heard a door slam had he realized that Jared had pulled him into a closet.

“Kleinman! What the everloving fuck!” Connor whispered-yelled, finding himself in a very compromising position. The closet was far too small for them, the near-crawl space designed to fit one person at most.

“Shh!” Jared shushed him, “The bitch will pass, and then we’ll be home free. Just- just sit still.”

“I’m not doing much sitting-” Connor complained, heat rising in his cheeks. If they had been the same height, perhaps they would have found themselves nose to nose, but because Jared’s stature was small - and Connor’s was anything but - they stood awkwardly in a face to chest position, pressed tightly against each other.

“I get your fucking point, asshole.” Jared retorted. Neither of them had released the other’s hand.

“So we’re stuck like this?” Connor asked. He couldn’t move without being pressed even closer to Jared, something he was trying to avoid at all costs.

“Unless you have any other ideas?” Jared replied, pushing further into the closet. It was pitch back all around. “I’m surprised we’re still alive and intact.”

“No, I’m surprised you’re still alive and intact. I’m quite murderous tonight.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jared snapped playfully.

“Oh, blow me, Kleinman.” Connor quipped back.

“Do you know how unsanitary that would be?” Jared said after a moment of silence.

“I’d rather not think about it.” Connor cringed, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

“What would you rather think about, then?” Jared challenged.

“Not you.” Connor dissented.

“Oh, blow me, Murphy.” Jared parroted the phrase from moments earlier. Connor froze. Through their entire barrage of back and forth insults, the two had come closer and closer together, and he had just realized. He was sure Jared had noticed, too, as the shorter boy shifted uncomfortably against the wall. The air was suddenly thick, the space seeming much smaller than before.

“You fucking wish.” Connor’s words cut through the heavy, inexplicably hot, air. He was blushing, blushing heavily, and was grateful for the cover of darkness to hide the heat rising in his cheeks.

“I wish a lot of things, but definitely not that.” Jared tactfully replied.

“Like what?” He prompted.

And suddenly, Jared mouth was on his, their frames pushing together in the tiny, pitch black closet. It was warm and chaste, Jared’s soft lips pressing against Connor’s chapped ones. Connor breathed sharply, kissing back without thought. To say it was an ideal spot for a kiss would not have been accurate, but something about the illusioned terror waiting outside the door propelled them onwards, Connor’s long arms wrapping themselves around Jared’s warm shoulders. They broke apart suddenly.

“What the fuck.” Was the first thing out of Connor’s mouth.

“Look, if you want to say that never happened-” Jared offered, but Connor cut him off.

“No, do that again.” Connor said, and Jared kindly obliged him.

Later that night, when they were found in that same closet by another tired employee, a noticeably disheveled Alana, and a furious Zoe (who had, as it turned out, gone ahead of them earlier in the house), both boys would deny anything ever happening. That being said, it didn’t take a scientist to figure out the change in chemistry between the two. On the drive home, when Jared fell asleep on Connor’s shoulder, Zoe whipped her head around to interrogated him. He simply smiled, told her not to worry about it, and she may want to invest in some concealer to cover the rather noticeable hickey on her neck. Alana laughed, Zoe blushed, and, in that moment, Connor decided that, just for a minute, everything would be okay.

[ryukoishida]

Arslan Senki Fandom Day 2017 [Encounter] | The second instalment of how idol!Gieve and singer-songwriter!Isfan meet and fall in love.

Written for Arslan Senki Fandom Day 2017 – [Encounter]

Title: Primadonna and the Piano Man [Part II] Author: ryukoishida Character(s)/Pairing(s): Isfan/Gieve Summary: This is the story of how one of the nation’s top idol Gieve and bestselling folk-rock musician Isfan meet (and eventually fall in love). [Idol/Musician!AU] Rating: T Warning: N/A A/N: The song that Isfan and Gieve worked on is based on “Lost One’s Weeping”, links of which you will find in the reblog! 

---

Sing When You’re in Love Series:

i. We Sing We Dance We Steal Hearts ii. We Sing We Dance We Fall in Love iii. Untitled iv. This Storm, It’s Coming v. I’m Yours (and so are they) vi. Primadonna and the Piano Man [Prequel] [Part I | Part II]

---

Despite their temporary truce, their journey to achieve a top hit pop song is perilous and full of conflicts.

The first two sessions mostly involve the two of them throwing general ideas back and forth at each other. The discussion goes from the target audience to the genre of music they want to make. While Gieve is known for his catchy dance pop and sugary love songs mostly aimed at the younger teenage audiences, Isfan’s style strays from folk-rock songs dedicated to nature and romance to melancholic ballads of lost identity and destructive love.

After much shouting, pen-throwing, and paper-crumpling, they’ve finally decided the theme of their song would be about the burdens of education and pressures of expectations that many young people and students face nowadays. It’s a serious but relatable topic that would engage a wide range of listeners. As for the genre, Gieve wants to do a mellower, stripped-down, acoustic version — something that’s more forlorn and heart-wrenching; however, Isfan wants to make it into a rock anthem, angrily declaring the dissatisfaction and resentment, and calling for an action to change.

They reconcile with the decision to try both versions for now, and only after discussion with the producer and other staff will they make their final choice.

Then the song-writing process begins, and it doesn’t get any easier from there.

“This riff here doesn’t sound right,” Gieve, who’s sitting on a stool next to Isfan’s piano bench, is saying as he points at the eleventh and twelfth bars on the music sheet, which have been scrawled with Isfan’s neat handwriting, drawn notes and lines. “It’s not enough…”

“Not enough…?” Isfan glances over at the idol, a single eyebrow quirked up in question and his hands still hovering above the keyboard.  

“You know: flair, energy, pizzazz!” Gieve waves his hands in a huge arching gesture, hoping the other man will understand.

Isfan stares blankly back at him, uncomprehending.

“Can you be any more vague?” Isfan heaves out an exasperated sigh and shifts over a little. “Why don’t you just show me? Here.” He pats the empty space next to him, and Gieve only hesitates for half a second before he accepts Isfan’s invitation and plops himself down on the bench.

The worn-out leather and oak seat isn’t really suited for two full-grown adult men, and so even with Isfan basically sitting on the very edge on one side, Gieve’s arm still lightly brushes against his whenever the idol moves just the slightest.

Not that Isfan is paying any special attention to how warm and comfortable Gieve feels sitting so closely next to him, or how nice he smells from whatever cologne he’d sprayed himself with that day, or how elegant and sensual his pale, slender fingers look against the black and white keys of the piano.    

“Hmm, I’m thinking maybe something like this,” Gieve plays a series of notes that’s similar to what’s written on the music score, but with a slight variation to the rhythm so that the entire riff sounds a little livelier, a bit richer, than before. He tries a few more variations, his eyebrows puckering in deep concentration as he plays and teases the melodies much like how he does with the strings of his guitar. His glasses are sliding down the bridge of his nose but Gieve doesn’t even seem to notice, and Isfan has the strongest urge to reach over and fix it for him.

“Isfan… Isfan! What do you think?”

“Sorry, what was that?” Isfan instinctively shifts back and almost slips and falls off the bench when he realizes just how close Gieve is — close enough that if he ducks his head slightly, his lips would be touching the soft hair by the idol’s temple.

“The riffs — the ones I just played for you — which one do you think is better?”

To be honest, Isfan has stopped functioning after the first one Gieve has played. Gods. Staying in this god-forsaken studio with no natural lighting coming in for six hours straight is doing weird shit to his mind; he needs a break, and maybe a snack.

“Do you want to go for a break?” Gieve asks as if he’s just read his mind.

“Do you mind? I can use some caffeine and cup noodles.”

Isfan’s stomach growls in agreement.

“You know both those things are bad for your throat, right?” Gieve is surprised to find that the singer-songwriter, who seems so solemn and a stickler for rules at first glance, cares so little about his diet. Having healthy bodies and protecting their voices are especially important for artists like themselves, so ever since Gieve started training with his idol unit, he’d maintained a strict diet and exercise regime.

“Let me have some fun, mother,” Isfan yawns, standing up to stretch. His jeans ride low on his hips and a sliver of tanned skin is shown for just a few seconds, but the little display is enough to give Gieve a tiny heart attack, his cheeks flushing and turning uncomfortably warm.

He clears his throat, and turns away to face the piano when Isfan glances down at him.

“Wow. You? Fun? I never thought I’d hear you wanting to be associated with the word ‘fun’,” Gieve chuckles, getting up as well.

“Oh, fuck off,” Isfan is way too tired and hungry to come up with more creative insults.

“Come on, there’s a place close by that opens late and has really good savory snacks,” Gieve winds an arm around the taller man’s shoulders and steers him out the door.

“But the song…”

Isfan is only planning to quickly whip up some noodles and coffee in the pantry, so a thirty-minute break would have sufficed.

“The song can wait! Come on, come on! My treat!”  

-

By the time they are sitting down to write the lyrics, the two musicians with drastically different roots and conflicting beliefs have become quite in sync in terms of their ideas. Occasionally, bickering would still break out, and staff passing by the studio, the door sometimes left a crack open to let in some air, would hear snippets of “what are you even trying to convey with this line here?” or “that doesn’t even rhyme!”

Even stranger still, those same staff members who’d overheard the arguments would often see Gieve and Isfan coming out of the studio after a few hours, and they would either share companionable silence after a long day of work or chattering about where to get dinner.

One night, the two were kicked out of the studio due to equipment maintenance, but neither of them wanted to stop because they felt like they were on the verge of finally writing something good after days of scraped ideas and ripped up notebook pages, so Gieve invited Isfan back to his place to continue.

Isfan didn’t even think twice before agreeing.

When they were satisfied with what they had written, it was already two o’clock in the morning. The public transit had stopped running and Isfan’s car had been left in the company parking lot, so naturally, Gieve volunteered to make spicy instant noodles with extra toppings and treated themselves with a bottle of ice-cold beer each for the conclusion of the gruesome yet fruitful lyric-writing session.  

During the few weeks they spent together, Gieve discovered that Isfan was especially talkative when he got tired, and while they ate, slurping the hot soup and moaning at the deliciousness of cheap MSG-fueled ramen, Isfan began to ask questions.

“Why did you want to become an idol?”

“Finally taken an interest in me, Isfan?” Gieve sent him an exaggerated wink across the steaming pot sitting in the middle of the dining table.

“Just curious.”

“Honestly, it’s the same old story,” Gieve replied after swallowing a mouthful of noodles, “I was scouted by an agent from Ecbatana while I was still in high school. I didn’t have any grand plans back then, and no world-shattering ambitions or goals to speak of, so I thought, ‘Why the hell not? Sounds fun!’ and just went with the flow.”

“That’s so you,” Isfan commented with a small laugh.

“Isn’t it just? And then of course behind all that glamour, rivalry arose, friendships were crushed over jealousy and competition,” Gieve carefully blew on the fishcake dangling between his chopsticks to cool it down before putting it into his mouth.

“But you made it; you’re here,” Isfan said, placing his chopsticks down.  

Gieve hummed, and for a brief moment, the two men concentrated on finishing their food and drinks.

“I’m sorry,” Isfan murmured, gaze dropping to the bottle of beer in his hands, fingers dragging droplets of condensation as they left smears on the table, “for my shitty behavior when we first met. I shouldn’t have judged you or your abilities before I even get to know you.”

“I sure showed you though, didn’t I?” Gieve grinned openly, and through the thin veil of steam that was still rising from the pot of finished noodles, he almost seemed surreal, the green of his eyes beckoning him in the fog, the quirk of his lips bearing a subtler message that Isfan had yet to decode, but that strange, clawing feeling disappeared as quickly as it had swooped down over him, and he found himself turning his head away, feeling uncomfortably hot and prickly.

“Isfan?” Gieve leaned over, his face full of concern.

“Sorry, just tired. It’s been a long day.”

Gieve didn’t ask any further.  

After putting the dishes away, they settled contentedly on the couch, and with the politics and bloodshed of Game of Thrones playing softly in the background, the two men fell asleep leaning against each other, their breathing slowing down until they became one harmonizing melody.

-

The only main task left for them is recording the song. The instrumentals for both versions are recorded without any major hitches; Isfan is responsible for playing the piano in the acoustic version while both he and Gieve contribute to the guitar portions in the rock version. The rest of the instrumentals are filled in by the company’s contracted musicians.

However, recording vocals hasn’t gone as smoothly as they’ve hoped.

It has taken Gieve many, many tries before he can pinpoint the exact emotion he wants — that deep, furious growling that he’s still not quite used to but is necessary for this song — without messing up the lyrics, and this is especially difficult due to the unforgivingly swift tempo that leaves the singer with very little space in between to take a breath.

On the contract, it’s been stated that Gieve will be responsible for the main vocals of the single, so while Isfan doesn’t necessarily need to be present for the vocal recording, he still sits in the recording booth with the audio engineer, entranced by the way Gieve puts everything into his singing while he keeps insisting that he can do better and pleads with the recording engineer to let him have another attempt even though his voice is obviously becoming scratchy from overuse.

During the weeks they were working on the melody and lyrics, Isfan already realizes that despite the idol’s seemingly gregarious and flippant personality, as if he never takes anything or anyone seriously, Gieve is an entirely different being when he throws himself deep into his work: he will nitpick and scratch out ideas until he deems the product near perfect to his satisfaction, and this is certainly one quality that Isfan has learned to respect.  

About two hours into recording, with almost the entire bottle of water emptied, Isfan signals at the idol for him to come out of the booth, but Gieve merely shakes his head and speaks into the microphone to let them know that he’s still fine to continue.

The audio engineer looks between the two musicians, uncertain of how to proceed, but Isfan gives him a reassuring pat on the shoulder before entering the recording booth himself, half-dragging, half-persuading Gieve to take a much-needed break.

“Just let me try a few more takes! I almost got it, come on—”

“No, your voice is cracking. You need to rest,” Isfan insists.

“Isfan’s right. Let’s give it another go tomorrow,” the audio engineer tells Gieve kindly.

Isfan nods his thanks, and then with a firm and steady hand, he pulls the bewildered idol out the door with a polite “see you tomorrow” aimed at the audio engineer.

“All right, all right, will you let go already?”

Gieve has been blindly following Isfan without really questioning where he’s taking him; not that he has any choice to begin with since the taller man still has a strong hold of his hand as he leads them down one hallway after another. A few passerby staff give them odd looks as they rush past, but they keep the muttering to themselves, though it doesn’t stop all kinds of rumours from spreading outside of the company that will gradually accompany the release of the single in the upcoming weeks.

Isfan finally lets him go when they reach the roof. They’ve taken the stairs instead of the elevator to avoid the worst of the crowd, but even walking up three flights of stairs is enough to make Gieve, who exercises regularly through dance rehearsals and gym visits, sweat and breathe raggedly, his arm hanging onto the railing to support his weight when they finally reach the top.

The roof of Ecbatana Entertainment Productions has been renovated into a garden where employees can rest in a peaceful spot away from the stress and worry of their work for a little while. The place is usually crowded during lunch time, but it is now nearing seven o’clock in the evening, the sky deepening into violet and blue and awash with splashes of pink and gold of the setting sun, the rooftop garden is utterly deserted.

Bushes of blooming lavender planted in squares of soil in the center of the garden create a waft of pleasant and sweet floral scent with a trace of evening summer breeze. Leaves of various plants that neither man remembers the names of whisper and rustle softly around them, and for the moment, they share the illusion of being the only ones in this world as the city halts its steps for the night.  

The two men settle on one of the benches that allows them to overlook the city skyline.

“Now that you’ve got me all by my lonesome,” Gieve breaks the silence easily and glances up at him with his infamous smile, the frustration from a few minutes ago gone without a trace as he wraps an arm intimately around Isfan’s shoulders, “is there something you wish to confess?”

Turning to face him properly, Isfan almost loses the ability to speak; their faces are only inches apart, and it reminds him of the first time they met — how irritated he’d felt towards the cheeky idol, how much he’d wanted to push him away and walk out of that room, how much more he’d wanted to pull him in and kiss him until neither of them can breathe.

He exhales slowly, eyes slipping close to refocus, but he doesn’t move away. He doesn’t want to.

“I’m worried about you,” Isfan says.

“Oh,” Gieve chuckles airily, “this is new.”

“I’m serious, damn it,” Isfan grits out, eyes flashing golden and black when he opens them again. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard for the past week; you’ve barely finished any of your meals, and I know you’ve been chugging energy drinks when you thought nobody’s watching.”

“Well, apparently, someone’s been watching me closely,” Gieve’s grin turns a little mischievous as he leans in even closer, close enough that their breaths are mixing, a hand dragging up to the nape of Isfan’s neck.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Isfan murmurs, feeling the idol’s fingers splayed warm and heavy against the back of his neck, and he’s entirely too distracted by the other man’s eyes, made deeper green by the colored contact lenses and lightly lined in kohl due to an event he needs to attend later on tonight, and his smiling mouth, the subtle twist an alluring challenge, an undeniable invitation.

“Seeking comfort, decreasing my stress levels, trying to make you notice me more, and so on and so forth,” Gieve replies.

Isfan laughs lightly at the last item of Gieve’s statement, clearly amused by the idol’s attempt to flirt with him (which is working weirdly well, all things considered), and Gieve pouts at the reaction, slightly insulted.

“What? Why are you laughing? This is no laughing matter, you know—”

Isfan only laughs harder, the corner of his eyes crinkling and the sound of his laughter soft and rumbling like distant thunder echoing in a forest that sets alight something deep within Gieve, making his blood tremble with delight.

“You’re impossible, you know that?” Isfan says, and then he’s pulling Gieve towards himself by a fistful of his shirtfront, his mouth crashing against the idol’s unceremoniously in a messy kiss.

-

“And this week, on the Pars Top 40 Chart, a newly released single has reached the number one spot: it’s Gieve, featuring guest artist Isfan, ‘The Lost Ones’ Fantasy’!”

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A/N: Goodness. Excuse the terrible writing. I started giving up towards the end and didn’t really bother anymore…

[fathomlessuniverse]

A MESS

That’s what the SKAM fandom has become. A fucking mess between :  

- The creepy fans. They are hardcore fans. They are obsessed with Evak. They watched like 50 times, season 3. They know every lines by heart. They managed to do 2-3 trip to Olso, not for the beauty of Norway of course, only to see the two principal actors. On tumblr, their only occupation is reblogging stuff concerning Evak, Tarjei Sandvik Moe (“MY PRECIOUS SON”) and Henrik Holm (“RAY of SuNshIne”) (“BEST ACTOR IN THE WORLD”) (“I’M SO EMOTIONAL” or “I’M CRYING Tarjei or Henrik is buying some orange juice”) and answering Anon who is telling them ”Gurl, it’s gross, stop shipping Tarjei and Henrik together.“ ” You have to distinguish the character from the actor“. They don’t care, they’re too far gone, they will keep shipping them anyway because "I don’t hurt anybody doing that”. 

 - The Norwegian weaboo. They throw some “Halla”, “Alt er love”, “Nei” and “Fy Faen” in ALL their fucking post even if they are just talking about idk lasagna. They remind you everyday that they are now master in Norwegian thanks to Duolingo. Suddenly, since Skam, half of Tumblr is Norwegian and live in Oslo and have (if it’s not them) "friends who knew / go to the same school / did a party / hang out (cross out the wrong indications) with Henrik, Marlon and Tarjei". Yes, little we knew, Oslo is a village of 100 peoples.

- The Yousana shippers. Some muslims, many who aren’t. Innocent, they don’t understand what’s the big deal with the fact that Yousef doesn’t believe in God. Some even except a kiss between Yousef and Sana. LOL. My sweet summer child, you can wait. 

- The Jonas (”Eyebrows god”) stan. My favorite. They’re just worried about their fave since he disappeared completely this season. 

- The Eva stan. They’re just most of the time praising her and her “fabulous mermaid hair”. 

 - The seeker of the truth 1. The one who only care about this ETERNAL question in the universe : Is Vilde a lesbian ? They’re no doubt for them, and the answer is “YES”. They dislike Magnus with passion and (like 99% of the fandom) can’t stand Magnus and Vilde making out session. They reclaim the truth from Julie Andem ALL THE TIME. 

 - The seeker of the truth 2. The one who only care about contradict them. “Vilde is NOT a lesbian”. They’re personally offended by this supposition. Why ? Nobodies know.

- The artist. They just draw or do “aesthetic edit” about Skam. Half of their caption is “Alt er love”-“Du er ikke alene”-“Be kind. Everyone is fighting a battle you know nothing about”. If you have an “aesthetic gif set” about one of the girl squad then you can be sure that you will find the picture of “a MAC lipstick slightly open with behind a white grayish background” in it.  

 - The Penetrator Chris Stan. Mostly young, they live in their bubble. They don’t take part of any fandom’s drama because they’re not invested enough. Isak ? Nope. Even ? Nope. Sana ? Nope. Noora ? Nope. LGBTQ representation ? Nope. POC representation ? Nope. ON-LY THIS FUCK-BOY MA-TTER FOR THEM. You easily recognize them because of their self-insert-imagine Readers where they are “William’s little sister and Chris secret lover” or when “You (Y/N) and jealous Chris are fucking in the kitchen”. 

- The Noorhell shippers. Maybe they were the original, the first one, SKAM  fans on Tumblr. Who knows ? They live in the past. They are still too invested in their shitty ship. They are an endangered specie now or maybe just hiding till the Wilhelm hate shit storm calm down. 

- The pepsi-max girl stan. Just kidding, nobody care about them. 

- The “Guys I have this incredible NEW theory : water is wet”. They are like weeks late in the season and just rehearse a theory who was already confirmed or already enunciated already by hundred of persons before. 

-  DISCOURSE GROUP 1. The “Sana’s season is too boring”. Mostly white girl, mostly straight, “they can’t relate to Sana because “she (an arab muslim straight girl) is too different” but they had zero difficulties to relate to Isak during season 3 (a white gay boy). Why ? You already know the answer. You can pair them with the Evak creepy fangirl, most of them came from this group. Until know, they were just a pain in the ass with their “ok it’s not that I don’t care about Sana (in fact, surprise, they don’t) but WHERE IS EVEN ?”. They cried when the S4 trailers was released. After their little crisis, they wrote 10K long ass meta about why in fact every little details in this trailer was related to Even and not Sana. Still delusional, they don’t want to move on. They don’t talk or reblog stuff from S4, only from S3 (OR S4 but only if it concerns Evak of course). They wrote many theories about the balloon squad and how problematic they were. This friday, they were apparently “proven right” to their greatest joy with Mikael and Even’s story. YAY.  Since you can hear them yelling “all religions are evil and homophobic and needs to disappear (BUT if Islam could be the ONLY ONE to burn it would be nice”). Suddenly they adore Sonja (who was ”a bitch” during season 3) If you ask them not to jump to conclusion with Mikael (“the rat”), you are homophobic yourself and obviously awfully racist against white people (???). 

- DISCOURSE GROUP 2. The Sana’s stan/ muslims one. They waited so long for Sana’s season and muslim representation. They have no time for your “lowkey islamophobic white ass” (”Sana is too white in this gifset” “ Pepsi-max girls sucks” “We don’t care about Willhell/ Evak/ Noora ” ( cross out the wrong indications) ). This season is very personal for them but to their surprise, it’s anything but what they expected. They have mixed feelings every new clip. They tried to educate the others Skam fans about some concept of Islam but people are not very receptive so they started to give up. Despite friday clip, they are still defending Mikael and the balloon squad against the various attack from the DISCOURSE GROUP 1. Easily offended, they can be a little too protective of Sana, her mom, and the balloon squad.  It appears that they lost all their patience and decided for the best or the worst to let the fandom burn. 

- THE OTHERS. The one who just enjoy the show, their favorite characters and favorite ships. They’re just watching the drama from afar. Sometimes, they low-key have a side but are too lazy to make a post about it. They’re just incredibly tired of this mess. 

Bye.