#phrases to yell when diving into a pool

[coolnessgraphed]

[steddiealltheway]

Imagine the whole scrunchie thing becomes super popular where people wear their partner’s scrunchies (idk how to phrase/explain it. Hear me out.)

Steve witnesses it emerge among the kids when Max buys a matching plaid trio set for her, El, and Lucas. She tries to shrug it off as not being a big deal but Lucas and El are SO excited to wear them.

Dustin comes to Steve for advice on the perfect scrunchie to send to Suzie. They settle on one that has lyrics from “A Never Ending Story” sewn into it.

Mike steals one from Nancy making some bullshit excuse about how his hair is too long and he needs to put it up. It “magically” appears on Will’s wrist later that day. Max jokes that people are going to think that Will is dating Nancy which sends Mike into a full spiral, and he gives in and uses the little amount of money he has to buy Will a yellow and blue one.

Robin comes running to Steve one day talking a mile a minute about how Nancy gave her one of her scrunchies, and she doesn’t know if it means something or if she wanted Robin to put her hair up. Steve calmly tells her that Nancy definitely was making a move. Robin absolutely has an excited breakdown.

Even Hopper has a plain brown scrunchie that appears on his wrist one day that Joyce usually wears in her hair.

Then, it happens to Steve. One day, he’s hanging out with Eddie in his backyard who casually asks him to hold his black scrunchie with little silver bats on it. Steve slips it on his wrist as Eddie winks and immediately dives into his pool.

Steve doesn’t even flinch as Eddie belly flops. As Eddie breaks the surface, Steve yells out, “What did we say about your impulse control?”

“It’s a bad influence if I don’t control it around the kids. But I don’t see them anywhere,” Eddie says floating on his back, clothes clinging to his body.

“Practice makes perfect,” Steve says, then sighs. “I’ll get you some clothes.”

It’s not until Eddie leaves later that night in Steve’s borrowed clothes that Steve realizes Eddie forgot his scrunchie.

He doesn’t think it’s a big deal until he’s around Nancy, Robin, and the kids. Will is the first one who spots the scrunchie and points it out.

Dustin immediately recognizes it and starts screaming, “You’re dating Eddie?!”

All the other kids start joining in on yelling, but to Steve’s surprise, all of them are yelling some form of “congratulations” or “finally!”

When Steve wordlessly makes his way to Nancy and Robin, Nancy smiles and says, “I’m really glad Eddie finally told you how he felt.”

“Me too, I could barely stand it!” Robin says, “I’ve been keeping this crush a secret for weeks, Steve, weeks.”

Steve nods expressionless.

“You okay?” Nancy questions.

“I just need some air,” Steve says immediately heading up the basement steps. He makes his way to the front door which swings open, and Steve suddenly has an armful of Eddie.

“I’m so sorry- Steve? Sorry, man,” Eddie apologizes and then really looks at him. “You okay?”

“You like me?” Steve asks.

“I- what?” Eddie replies, blood draining from his face.

Steve holds up his scrunchie clad wrist. “You left this, and then the kids assumed we were dating. Then, uh, Nancy may have told me you had - or have - feelings for me.”

Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds before stalking over to sit on the couch, putting his head in his hands. “This is not good, this is not good, this is not good…” Eddie mumbles to himself.

Steve closes the front door and makes his way over to where Eddie is sitting. “Is it true?”

Eddie sits up and pushes the hair away from his face. He looks Steve in the eye and says, “Yes.”

Steve nods and takes it in. Eddie likes him. Eddie likes him.

Eddie’s holds his hand out in front of Steve as if asking for Steve to give him something.

“What’s this for?” Steve asks.

“I’d like my scrunchie back, please,” Eddie says tensely.

“But what if I don’t want to give it back?” Steve rushes out.

Eddie blinks. “What?”

“What if…” Steve trails off and takes a deep breath, “What if I like you, too?”

Eddie freezes. “Huh?”

“What if I liked you, too, and what if I didn’t correct anyone about us dating?”

Eddie looks down at the scrunchie and says, “But what if I really like that scrunchie?”

Steve bursts out laughing. “That’s your issue?”

“It’s a custom made scrunchie, Steve! It has little bats on it!” Eddie replies.

Steve continues to laugh which encourages Eddie to join him.

After the laughter dies down, Eddie asks, “You really like me?”

“Yes.”

Eddie takes Steve’s hand in his and dramatically says, “Then, I guess you can keep this for now.”

“For now?”

“I told you I really like that one!” Eddie exclaims, tugging jealously at the band around Steve’s wrist.

“You’re really something, you know that?”

“Something? I thought I was your boyfriend,” Eddie says with a cheesy smile.

Steve rolls his eyes and huffs, “I’m going to regret accidentally keeping this, aren’t I?”

“Absolutely,” Eddie promises with a big smile.

[itsmoonphobic]

Dream SMP characters and my interpretation of them:

-Techno: The smell of Dirt and soil,blood,wine and old books. Silk pillowcases,golden jewelry,mosaics,stained fingertips, grand staircases,scented candles,storyteller,lazy smiles, secretive,slow dancing,sad resting face,elegant language,cold weather,confident,doubts himself,philosophy, messy braids,glowdust flakes, poetry,graceful movements,neat and cursive handwriting, greek mythology, oriental music,pale skin,libraries,sarcasm, long-lasting friendships,quotes,frosted windows,layering clothes, know-it-all,rude but endearing,pile of papers,cherry blossoms,muted colors,overthinks everything,devotion,logical thinking,insomniac,scattered mind,castle walls,laid back,tired eyes,long debates,show over tell,lingering touches,rulebreaker, dirty palms,old movies freezing feet,old habits,late nights studying,early riser,skips meals,eye bags,tea with milk,velvet jackets,dimly lit by streetlights,ancient wood floors,flowy curtains,art museums, gravely morning voice,echos in the middle of nowhere,sleepy whispers,nostalgia everywhere,red lipstick stains,loves animal more than people,calm and quiet, healing stones,parked car conversations,sharp jaw,obsessed with memes,violins,doves, doves,floats instead of walks,unbroken promises,twisting and winding hair around fingers,nail biting, repeating phrases,mist secret scars,rumors,always wearing earphones,metaphorical, emotions fragile as a flower, speaks with his eyes,fluttery eyelashes,dog lover,forehead kisses,calligraphy,pretty knives,cares too much,lopsided grins,messy desks,talks for hours no,rolling his eyes all the time,powerful strides,wants to conquer the world,slender hands,good grades, dusty book covers,wax stamped envelopes,vintage mirrors

-Phil: The smell of cold air,pine trees and sandalwood.Dead birds and mothballs,stops on the sidewalk to make sure nobody is left behind,morning person,herbal teas,crows,eats breakfast outside,constellations,family portraits on walls, chirping and whistling,crime documentaries,cool father figure, graveyards,weeping angels,meteor shower,many friends but only a single close one,contagious laugh,fragile teacups,fog, early mornings,fuzzy blankets,springs of thyme,bare feet, empty streets,rosemary stems,flickering lanterns,burnt wood bowls,feather collector,antique silverware,a sky full of stars, skylights,torn pages,overstuffed bookshelves,makes you feel comfortable whenever you talk to him,organized,full of ideas, believes in magic,gives the best advice,lost in his own way, warm hugs,scrapbooks and bullet journals,old cars,soft features,daydreaming,bright eyes,getting lost in the woods,moonlight,self knitted sweaters, stargazing on tailgates,the universe,hand in hand with wandering hearts, garage sales,questioning life but feeling at peace,attic bedrooms and haylofts,pursuing science and desiring art, photo albums,hopeless romantic,dark chocolate,open windows and quirky morning rituals,actually knows what brunch is, succulents,a kind-hearted loner,free-spirit,plaid button-ups, always ready to let you rant,abandons projects quickly, complicated past,bold moves,goes with the flow,aims for things that seem unachievable,lives in extremes,knowing smiles,constantly busy with something new,soft touches,love at first sight,naps alot,subsequent tea stains,sparkly eyes, abandoned barns,handwritten notes,feather quills,fascination with the sky,whispering secrets to the wind,great with kids, takes a backpack everywhere,hugs trees,big winter coats,road trips,knows tons of medical info,bites his nails,comforting presence,lost souls,city lights from a high rise

-Wilbur: The smell of fire,smoke,caramel and coffee. Stands up for people who can't for themselves,emotional wreck,loves his family too much but still yells at them,soft turtlenecks,sits in different spots every time he eats dinner,chipped nailpolish, songwriter,probably depressed,wakes up in the middle of the night to write down random thoughts,heartbroken teenager songs,dark psychology and deep meanings,globes and maps, wants to travel and make lots of memories,curls of steam, earbuds in,spattered ink,good singer,keeps to himself,old music and dusty vinyl,the type of person that you could stare at for hours,loud laugh,ride or die,dreams about his future, believes in fresh starts and new beginnings, messy and tangled hair,summer nights,soft features,deep thinker and dimples, having crushes,musicals and theater, half finished diaries and laptop stickers,mixtapes,quirky love notes, secretly kinda insane,always ready for coffee,thrift shops, beachy waves, bonfires,probably drives too fast,cutoff jeans, cream and sugar,nude colors,always creating new problems for himself, fights for equality,long debates and tired eyes, tapping a rhythm and humming quietly,spends all his time on social media,beanie galore,trench coats,foggy glasses,cozy sweaters, dancing around his room to the Beatles,looking out the window when the sun is setting,birkenstocks,guitar strumming on a warm summer evening,bells and chimes,subtle sadness, the feeling of diving into a deep pool,perfect proportions,too many playlists,holding hands,pretty boy,sew on patches and bomber jackets,candid photos,warm sun on bare skin,dancing silhouettes on the sunsets,beach walks at midnight,messy but cozy room,different mood every minute,singing his favorite song at the top of his lungs,sharp grins,haunted houses, paranormal stuff,late night snack runs with friends,explores creeks and lakes,double checks everything he does,walking through hot sand,backyard campfires,acoustic songs,photo booths,train platforms at night,s'mores,sun bleached arbors

-Tommy: The smell of plastic,fresh cut grass and musk. Does the bare minimum at School,unless genuinely interested in a topic,doodles on the side of his paper,movie marathons,empty coca cola bottles everywhere,rope swings,glossy nailpolish,lots of energy,life of the party, kidcore ,can always make you laugh,loves photography,eyestrain and bright colors,bruised knees and untied shoelaces,paperballs in class,brand new red converse,denim jackets,pins and clips,chalk drawings in the middle of the road,every text contains emojis, garden sprinklers,graffiti,wreck this journal,vibrant dyed hair, scribbles and highlighter pens,carnivals,involed in many things, watermelon flavored anything,loves to climb trees,screaming on playgrounds,oversized t-shirts,stained glass windows, anklets,skateboards and hula hoops,milkshakes on the front porch,social butterfly,always in a hurry,pinkie promises,tangled headphones,melted crayons and gummy bears,bean bags and hummingbirds,spinning around till he gets dizzy,chaotic and crazy yet so fun to be around,rushing into things too quickly, roller coasters and derbies,doesn't get knocked back by criticism,cans of fizzy drinks and neon lights,skips school,tye dye shirts and nitendo games,impulse and class clown,sticks stickers on stranger's things,pickpockets his close friends,has to carry a walkie-talkie around with him at all times,sleepovers and sneaking out through windows,pockets full of change and random buttons,stands out in crowds and makes friends easily, pretends to be fearless but is scared of the littlest things,trips and rips his jeans daily,uno cards,social butterfly,music discs, fights with his family but would actually kill for them,broken handwriting,flannels and jerseys around his waist

-Tubbo: The smell of honey,fresh bread and citrus. Lowkey soft, hugging a teddy bear,pressed flowers,eats alot of bread,big hoodies,fairy lights and blanket forts,prank calls while holding in your laughter,beeswax candles,sidewalk dandelions,gentle cuddles on the couch,pastel yellow and cute doodles,flower crowns and diasy chains,plays the ukulele,fascinated by bees and supports local coffee shops,outdoorsy sunshine addict, sparklers and iced lemonade,festivals with fireworks and fireflies in mason jars,homework done as soon as its assigned, watercolor paintings,giggling uncontrollably,long hugs and lazy cartoon afternoons,park dates and forehead kisses,cutting pants into shorts,messy wild hair and pear lollipops,has tiny random braids decorated with golden yarn,hearing the crinkle of leaves underfoot,suprise piggy back rides,adult swim shows and lip gloss stains,being goofy without meaning to,bounces in his step and stops to pet stray animals,baked bread and washi tape bracelets,bike rides and summer picnics,rolling down a hill in the spring and bringing home grass stains on his jeans, waving at someone across a crowded room,spontaneous hang outs and self made clay rings,sitting in the warm sunlit grass on early spring mornings,rock painting and hiding them for other people to find,picking apples from trees but needing to be held up in order to reach one

-Ranboo: The smell of peppermint tea,denim and rain. Is there for everyone but never themselves,regrets things they said but can never find the nerves to apologize,clumps of mascara and winged eyeliner,writes down every tiny thing in notebooks, loves children and their friends,forgetting that they already grabbed a waterbottle,drawing on condensation windows,rainy days and puddles,always on the edge of a breakdown,elevator music and long limbs,old tape recordings and cassettes,moss covered ruins and greenhouses,wanting to be in multiple places at the same time,different colored socks,long hugs and head pats,reading under the covers,collages and spray paint,record players and walks alone through the woods,loves playing by creeks and collecting stones,always wondering and worrying about things they shouldn't,vivid dreams and leather jackets, silver necklaces and piercings,snoozing their alarm clock, seeing the moon in the early morning,blurry photographs and windswept hair,downpours and comfortable silence,wrapping gifts and handing them over with shaking hands,sitting on a rooftop and spontaneous plans,lofi sounds and long train roads,deja vu moments,randomly dissapears and sipping tea, cold concrete and city parks,tickets and brochures from places they visited,dusty parchment and desperately trying to be a good person,wikipedia articles and lace-up boots,often loses track of time while talking to people they love,sings to the radio and avoids conflict if possible,can't sit still for five minutes, perpetually in an emo phase and knows more than they let on, hawaiian shirts,henna tattoos and sparkling water,sleeping in complete darkness and the relief of falling into bed,midnight thunderstorms and anticipation for the coming day,lucky charms and the sound of rain hitting the windows

-Dream: The smell of apples,eucalyptus,vanilla and green tea. Freckles and smiley faces,glow sticks and wrinkled linen, probably a really good singer,wild laughter and jellyfish, popular,tanned skin and cruising with the top down,doesn't take shit from anyone,analytical and self assured,beachy waves and dreamy sunsets,running barefoot,likes being active and on the go at all times,sassy and dramatic as fuck,dream catchers and hammocks,glow in the dark stickers on his phonecase, feisty and a sense of danger,brought home stray cats when he was a child,falling in love with strangers,waking up early and continue laying on the bed,golden hours and 4pm naps,soft aching hands burried in messy hair,center of attention,static and heavy breathing,old percy jackson books under the bed, throwing pebbles at the closed windows of his friends' room, retro diners at 2am,adrenaline junkie and nighttime thriver,will go insane if cooped up indoors for too long,deadlines till last minute,oversleeping and coming home past midnight,naturally a really good surfer,hugs from behind and neck kisses,checking the fridge at 1am,ice cream in bed and cat cuddles,always picks up over facetime

Might make more parts for some of the other guys :)

[werezmastarbucks]

crete

honeymoon masterlist

word count: 2194

warnings: drowning

music: prove me wrong by tyler joseph, ¿ by bmth and halsey

Another time Kai died out of his own stupidity.

It was incredible, really, how he, such a brilliant mind, resourceful and sharp, terrifyingly shrewd and quick-thinking sometimes put zero consideration into things he was doing. If there was some kind of underlying point in the things he sometimes did, it escaped you. Sometimes it seemed he has been bashed on the head on the day he was born. That was what made him so fun to be isolated with. Kai Parker was so unpredictable.

Like when he ran you both off the cliff, which he then explained as a romantic bonding experience.

After all, what makes people the closest?

You were shaking with rage. You couldn’t even speak, after you resurrected, on the beach, among the crooked debris of your car, smelling something still burning, with a headache.

Killing somebody together. But there’s no one here to kill, so...

So we died together, holding hands, and it was amazing, for once.

He had a dreamy expression on his face. You recalled the horrible moment the car hit the ground; you almost fell out of your seat by that time, and in a split second, you finally understood why Kai always had a seatbelt on. The pain, the sound of your own spine cracking. The hammer-like sensation of the weight of the ground pounding your head, breaking your skull. You were lucky the car simply dived in, and you both fell heads first, dying almost instantly.

It all made sense to him, and you were afraid that you’d spend enough time with him to start seeing his way, too.

But the next time he died on his own, because, like all geniuses, he was incredibly dumb in the most unexpected places.

This place was called Koureménos, and Kai knew how to pronounce it, and you didn’t. You have been to Greece before, but obviously this time was different. For once, it was the past.

Another obvious thing that you don’t take into consideration before you face it: the mountains don’t care whether it’s past or future. They live millions of years, and barely ever change. Even vampires like Klaus Mikaelson may seem children compared to mountains. It was impossible to tell what year it was, standing on the top of the hill, looking into the sea. The sea barely changes, too. It’s just cyan blue and deep, and you especially adored the two seas in Greece; Aegean more so than the Mediterranean, because it had more temper. It changed colors. It listened to you. It had furious, playful waves. It beat people on rocks, threw them around like toys. It was like... Kai.

“So, how does one love?” he asked.

You were sitting at the rock, the hard stone biting into your bare knees. You turned to him with a swing. Kai didn’t care for the sun. He didn’t care for the wind. Was he so jaded with life that the particles of his skin themselves stopped feeling the change in the temperatures? He always wore jeans and a shirt (he changed those every day, but they always were the same), and a hoodie with a zip. He was like a living Sim, you realized. A customized video game character.

“What?”

He looked like the words came out of is mouth in spite of him. God knows what he was thinking, and what was so special about you sitting on the rock, crouching, your back to him, and groaning, trying to get your sandal out of in between two sharp rocks, that he suddenly wanted to know about love.

Kai asked a lot of questions about things he never talked about before. He didn’t have anyone he trusted enough to ask, how one does love, and what it means, and how death feels to others, and what they dream about. You were realizing those questions had nested, piling up and up on his mind, for years, and he didn’t see anybody suit to hear them. Most probably, nobody wanted to hear them. He was asking questions about things a child should understand. Like why people cry. That one time he asked you, do you still get spooked? about your nightmare opened him up a little to you. You realized he lived in a completely different world. Unfortunately, it made it even harder to be mad at him.

Now he wanted to know how one loves. Even the way he has phrased it, it made you see he has no idea.

He was sorry he asked. You never ever pushed him away at the moments like that.

“Come here”.

He walked quietly, like a cat. Always. It was extremely unnerving. Even when he didn’t need to sneak, he still did. You did not know what his steps sounded like.

Kai stood next to you, unwilling to get on your level to hold some control.

“You told me you have loved someone, right before you killed me in Italy”, you said, scornfully.

“Yeah, I know the feeling, but I don’t know what you’re supposed to do”.

You stood up. You didn’t like it when he hovered over you like an executioner.

“For one, you don’t kill them”.

He looked you right in the eye without any expression.

“Easy to say, harder to do. I get this need to kill whenever I get close to someone”.

“I feel like you talk from experience”.

He looked at the water.

“Uh-huh. I killed my first girlfriend. I’m still wondering what I did wrong”.

You fought the urge to say ‘killing her, probably, was it’.

Instead, you asked, with a creeping feeling that you’re turning into him a little, while he’s taking on your features,

“How?”

“Drowned her in the pool. I banged her head on the tiles first”.

“Why?”

Kai thought for a bit.

“So that she wouldn’t wiggle”.

You sighed.

“Or to make her suffer less?” he asked, with hope, trying to cheat. You shook your head with a smile.

You felt inclined to hug him. Kai actually gave you a super useful advice. It’s only you and him. Although you wanted it very bad, you didn’t have to fight your affection for him. There was no point fighting it.

You wrapped your arms around him, and he lifted his elbows a little. You barely hugged in the daylight before that.

“The first rule of loving someone is not to hurt them. Everything else is improvisational and welcome, I guess”.

“Have you ever thought about hugging, too?” he mumbled, returning it. His hand lay on your shoulder, palm cupping it, and you felt like belonging. He smelt not worse than sea. He was slowly sponging the smell of May.

“How silly it is. You just catch someone passing and restrict them for two seconds, it’s so weird when you think about it. Stop, and press your body against mine, buddy. I’ll also slap you on the back or hold your head”.

You chuckled.

“It’s all a part of the old desire to be one with somebody, I think”.

Your face was muffled slightly by his chest, and you didn’t mind talking into his shirt.

“That’s why some people cannibalise each other”.

“People cannibalise each other because they’re sick, Y/N”.

You unclasped your arms, and you were quite satisfied at the nonchalant look in his eyes.

“Does it feel good?”

The wind was gently swaying you to and fro, and you stepped away from him, to see him better, at the same time trying to put your hair behind your ears. The silent shore howled in midday.

“What?” his face gave a funny expression, “canniba-”

He didn’t finish, - or, you didn’t hear. The wind pulled you and sucked you in because you stood above the natural rock vortex, going down into a V-shaped  notch in the cliff. The wind said, whooo? as it took you in. Your damn sandals did not help either, your ankle bending on an uneven ledge. You fell back first, and didn’t even yell, just ouched in surprise, like a kitten. This prison world somehow taught you both not to scream when falling, or when in pain.

The fall wasn’t scary, and wasn’t long. You plushed into the water your ass first, and dived out the next second, puffing in irritation. You were baffled, sure, but you could swim.

And then Kai went into the water like a dead brick, and started chaotically moving in all directions, coming in and out of water. As you tried to float, you moved away to give him space, but he kept wiggling like he didn’t have arms to sway. His head came up, and then went down under the water.

“Kai?”

You realized he doesn’t know how to stay on water. You realized he was drowning.

You tried grabbing him, but the mighty Aegean sea said, no, and the waters, restless in the narrow notch, threw you both back and forth. In these waves, even one person would find it hard to float: you’d have to swim. You were perfectly ready to do so, but Kai didn’t seem to even know what to do. Did he get sucked into the tunnel, too? Or did he jump?

“I can’t swim!” he announced, and his arms grabbed your neck like anybody would do. You went under the water with his weight and yours, and panicked. It was all just a very messy, air grabbing, water swallowing experience, having Kai drown right in your arms. He nearly drowned you, too, and in the end, after several attempts to pull him by his hair or the hoodie, after being thrown against the rock, and splitting your temple, and swallowing about a gallon of water, you could barely stay on water yourself.

I can’t do it, you thought, he’s going to die.

It’s so easy, to let someone die. You watched Kai fight the water like a butterfly with wet wings. You held on a rock, trying to breathe, to rush back to him. You hoped that maybe when he blacks out and stops jerking so much, you can pull him out. You asked yourself, your mind racing with panic, if you would try to pull him out if it was for real. If you knew he’d die for good. And decided it didn’t matter. If you were set on fixing that boy, even a little, just for yourself, to show him how to love, you couldn’t let him drown in here, either.

But you were so exhausted that as soon as you let go of the rock that the sea was washing your blood off you went under the water yourself. You tried rolling onto your back to keep yourself above the water, cursing the damn sea with all the words you knew. You reached out to Parker hanging vertically in the water, ethereal and white in the greenish clean water, bubbles around his porcelain face, and you blacked out.

You both woke up on the shore, dry and far away from the water, and you reckoned you died, too.

How mundane it was now, even though you’ve only died for the second time.

You just woke up, not a single drop of water in your nose. No coughing, no dramatic sea water spitting. Your hair was dry, and you were a bit hot, lying in the sun and all, and Kai was sitting next to you, blinking slowly at the brink of the sea.

You were torn between wanting to stroke him on the shoulder and call him an idiot. Maybe you could caress him gently while calling him an idiot.

He turned and looked at you like he studied you as his subject. His eyes were rich grey and just a bit narrowed.

“You come round longer than I do. Second time already. Do you see anything?”

You checked your electronic watch to see if it’s working.

“Why did you jump, you...”

You hummed instead of finishing.

“I thought you couldn’t swim”.

“Wait, wait a second”, you stood on your knees in the soft heat of the yellow sand, “I thought you said you couldn’t swim”.

“Yeah, no, I can’t”.

“So, why did you jump?” you yelled. Kai’s face expressed confusion.

“I assumed you’d drown. I didn’t want you to die alone”.

“God damn it”, you heard yourself. Something in you moved. You heard your own voice, spiked with worry. You were worried about him. He sat there in the sand, looking like he was cut out of a magazine, from the page that had an article about how bad the video games are for your kid; he sat there, looking like a puppy that knew it was about to be punished. You thought that maybe you yelled at him too much, forgetting how well Kai plays victim all the time. He could weave you like sails.

“God damn it, don’t do it again! You knew you’d die!”

He chuckled, with a portion of pity.

“Y/N, you know it’s not for real”.

“Yeah, but still. It still sucks, dying. Haven’t you had enough?”

He sighed.

That is how you love, by the way, you wanted to add. But something stopped you.

You also decided not to tell him you only drowned because you were trying to save his ass. Let him learn this lesson in selflessness he gave himself.

[andsoshespins]

Olympic Musings II

I love when the microphones are switched on while the athletes return from their performance and greet their teammates and coaches.  Hearing snippets of exclamations, praise, and words of comfort in all languages is such a joy.  It is interesting to understand the emotions even if the words or expressions are unfamiliar.  

Related: Hearing the English-speaking teams is funny because then you realize that the interjections are sometimes so random.

I wonder if male gymnasts are good in bed.  They’re a little too clean for me, but I’m just curious.

Does gymnastics even make sense from a physics standpoint?

It is a little unnerving to keep seeing “Tokyo 2020″ splattered everywhere in the year 2021. 

I love the Dutch and their orange. 

Fun Fact: When the USA and Italy are not in the running, I often root for the Netherlands and Spain.  Hardcore.  Not sure exactly why.  But, let’s goooooo.

How is it possible that female surfers are far more clothed than their beach volleyball counterparts? 

Real talk though: How do they even play in those bikini bottoms?  

Speaking of tiny garments: Men’s Synchronized Diving, barely enough fabric for a small Old Glory and that Nike swoosh.

I do not think I can actually watch that Equestrian Dressage event.  There is something that irks me about the jerky horse movements, the weird coordination and controlling motions.  There are few Olympic competitions I will not watch; this is definitely one of them. 

Watching Michael Phelps do interviews dressed in button downs, real pants, and donning shoes threw me for significant loop the other day.  I almost did not recognize him without spandex and bare skin. 

The swimming announcers might be my favorite: They yell so much and are still so coherent in their commentary.  It’s incredible. 

My favorite part of the swimming heats, though?  The super-imposed visual overlap of flags, names, and times in the pool lane and the World Record line teasing the swimmers (who cannot actually see it).  

Underwater cameras blow my fucking mind.  Every time.

Related: The swimmers are actually just merpeople.  I’m convinced.

I still hold my breath for that split second between the relay swimmers’ jump into the pool over their teammates for their leg of the race.

Why can’t the reporters wait for the athletes to process their performance and catch their goddamn breath before asking inane questions?  UGH.

The celebration of the watch party in Alaska for the gold-winning Lydia Jacoby brings me irrepressible joy.  WHAT ENERGY.  I ain’t even mad that NBC keeps playing it at random times.

Australia’s yellow-green still throws me for a loop sometimes. 

I still have seen only one actual medal ceremony, and I have been watching for days, bro.  

During the Olympics is the only time I will ever utter the phrase, “Wow, I feel so old.”  Like, medal-winning athletes born in the new millennium?  Stop.  What.

My brother agrees with me that the canoe/kayak slalom increases the blood pressure of the spectator.  

Seeing athletes with Olympic rings tattooed on their skins is very cool.  If I were such an athlete, I would try to compete in 5 Olympics and etch the name of each location and year within a corresponding ring.  Obviously, this is a fevered dream.  (But isn’t it artistic?)

[inspired-by-the-music]

For You: Stand By Me

Taglist: @jineunwootrash @angels-from-california @jayjaydawn

If you would like to be added to the taglist of any of this blog’s works, please ask!

Recommended Reading: For You: 4 O’Clock; these works have separate, independent, but deeply interwoven timelines.

Chapter 11: The Girl Who Held My Heart

Sehun’s POV

Apparently, Manager Kim hosted an annual Christmas party attended only by Super Junior and whatever group she managed through debut or comeback. I only learned about it when EXO was invited. 

It had been over a year since Lei’s birthday party, where I learned that I had somehow fallen face-first in love with her. In that time, I figured that there was no escaping her— not when we worked at the same places, not when she was scattered through many of my memories, not when I had developed the habit of holding my breath until the next moment I saw her. In that time, I busied myself with the almost impossible task of telling her about the feelings that I couldn’t understand. In that time, I decided that maybe feelings aren’t meant to be analyzed and forced to abide by strict logic. 

So I walked into her house a year and a half after running from the fire in her touch with her gift in the pocket of my black blazer and three heartfelt words on the tip of my tongue. Those words had been dancing precariously on the edge, threatening to dive whenever I saw her backstage at Music Bank, whenever I saw her at company parties, whenever I saw her picture on social media, whenever I scrolled past our most recent text conversation. 

From the moment that I walked through the door and saw her— heard her singing some song with Yesung in the middle of the living room— I knew that I wouldn’t be able to bite them back again. Luckily, I arrived prepared to tell her anyway. 

I guess you could say that I had a one-track mind focused solely on speaking to Lei. Being new to the world of complex intimate emotions, I was hesitant to discuss them where anyone else could overhear. 

Finding a moment alone with Lei at that Christmas party proved even more challenging than securing her attention at the pool party. In the uncommon event that she wasn’t goofing around with Yesung, who must have been her favorite member of Super Junior, she was whispering something to Lucas, who was invited to the party even though he wasn’t a member of Super Junior or EXO. If she wasn’t with Lucas, then she was engrossed in conversation with Donghae, or she was drinking tea in the corner with Ryeowook, or she was helping Leeteuk and Shindong with their gingerbread village. 

An opportunity to speak with her privately presented itself when she walked into the kitchen, at Leeteuk’s request, to retrieve more gingerbread cookies from the oven. Forgetting to appear cool or somehow indifferent, I left Junmyeon, Baekhyun, and Chanyeol by the punch bowl in the dining room to follow after her. 

I filled the doorway, gasping when she hissed as she gripped the tray. I watched her jump away as the tray clattered to the ground with a metallic clank. Disappointment flickered through her eyes as they lowered to count the ruined cookies sprawled across the dark tiled floor. 

While she threatened to spill tears over a batch of cookies, I could only think about the burn to her fingers. As if it were a life-and-death matter, I ran to her, kicked the tray aside because it stood in my way, and took her hand into mine. 

“What are you doing?” Lei eyed me curiously as I tossed her red oven mitt onto the counter to assess the faint, almost non-existent blisters on her fingertips. 

Knowing that the glove had absorbed most of the oven’s heat, I still turned the sink’s faucet and guided her hand under the stream of cold water. “It’s called first aid, Lei.” I avoided looking at her because everything in me screamed that this wasn’t the time to confess, and meeting her eyes would force the words out involuntarily. “You’re hurt, and I’m trying to make you feel better.” 

“It doesn’t really hurt, though,” she said. “It only burned for, like, half a second, but I guess that’s all it took for me to ruin Leeteuk’s and Shindong’s cookies.” I could hear her frown even when I couldn’t see it. 

Despite her insistence that she didn’t need my help, Lei didn’t pull her hand out of my grasp under the water when it would have been all too easy. I held her gently, afraid to prod the injury. She didn’t flinch away from my touch even when I brought her fingertips to my lips. Her breathing hitched, but I didn’t recognize that sound as an expression of pain (maybe) because I was inclined to believe that she felt as I did— that she came to life when we touched. 

I hated to let her go, to feel that distance between us again, but there was no excuse to cling to her once she pulled her hand away from mine. I glanced at her for the briefest second, hoping for some sign that she wasn’t rejecting my affection, and I was disappointed to find that her gaze was already fixed on the floor. 

She dropped to her knees in her white dress, apparently unafraid of soiling it. She used her hands to sweep the gingerbread men back onto the tray, I assumed, to later drop them into the bin in the corner of the room. I lowered to help, and— unable to shake the thought that she looked like an angel in her white dress and golden halo headband— I blurted into the deafening silence, “You look beautiful.” 

Tray in hand, Lei rose to her feet first. In the moments before I towered over her again, she stared down at me in utter astonishment. I guess I can’t blame her. That was the first time I had ever been so direct in complimenting her, and I had done so without warning. I hadn’t even meant to say anything; it was just too true to leave unsaid. 

In a small voice, she asked, “Why are you saying that?” I wondered if she was blushing under her makeup. I wondered if she fought to press her ruby red lips into a frown. 

I hadn’t expected her to swoon at my every word or anything, but— 

No. Maybe I had come to expect that sort of reaction. I expected her to brighten at my compliments not because they defined her or because I thought so highly of my own opinion, but because— because that’s what she had always done. The frown that stared down at me was so far from what I anticipated or dared to dream about that I know my face burned a humiliated shade of crimson. 

Lei hadn’t rejected me— at least not outright— yet I hesitated to find my footing. Like a fool, I couldn’t look away from her long enough to make my way to the garbage can, so I dropped my handful of cookies onto the marble countertop. 

When Lei raised her eyebrows, and I realized that she expected me to answer her question, I stuttered, “I— because—” I couldn’t tell her that I loved her when she was looking at me like that. I bit down on my tongue. 

I don’t know what I would have said if Chanyeol hadn’t sauntered over to us, nearly tripping over his own two feet. 

“Isn’t this just adorable?” His words slurred together. Because he spent the entire night drinking from the punch bowl that Baekhyun spiked, Chanyeol reeked of alcohol. “Why don’t you two just kiss already?” 

From his place between us, Chanyeol slung one giant arm around me and the other around Lei, and he tried to force us together. I don’t think I have to tell you that I didn’t want Chanyeol to be the catalyst or witness of our first kiss even if he was too drunk to remember the details. Still, I didn’t resist his efforts with half as much frantic energy as Lei did. She writhed and frowned as she swatted Chanyeol away. 

Breathless from her aversion to kissing me, I fixed my gaze on the fragmented cookies on the counter. “Cut it out, Chanyeol.” I didn’t know that my voice could get so quiet. 

“No!” Chanyeol shook his head wildly. He must have made himself dizzy; when I glanced at him, his eyes were crossed. Leaning against Lei and nearly knocking her over, he rambled, “I don’t think he’s ever gonna tell you, so lemme just do it. Ya know, he’s been keeping us all up at the dorm, rehearsing his speech about love and rain and cotton candy—”

Suffice it to say that I hadn’t expected anyone to have overheard the confession I spent months preparing. Considering how much time, effort, and genuine emotion I had poured into putting my thoughts into words, it was insulting to hear Chanyeol summarize them in his drunken state. To tell you the truth, I would have been humiliated had Chanyeol— or anyone, for that matter— spoken about my feelings in a sober well-intentioned state. They were my feelings, and I had gone to great lengths to embrace them, and for somebody else to try to speak about them with authority and ease—

I dug my elbow into his ribs, and Chanyeol burped. “And I just knew that he was talking about you because he’s always had a thing for you even though I don’t know what he sees in you—”

As annoyed or upset or furious as I was that Chanyeol had once again diminished my love for Lei to the phrase ‘a thing,’ my concern deepened when he acted on his habit of insulting her. Although Lei didn’t so much as blat an eyelash or show any sign that she was affected by Chanyeol’s monologue— her frown had leveled into an apathetic line— I pried him off of her. 

Chanyeol laughed, I assumed, at having pushed my buttons. “That’s not true.” He smiled at Lei for the first time. That’s when her stone exterior started to crumble. Brow furrowing as a dimple formed in her chin, she took a step away from him. That meant she also took a step away from me as Chanyeol claimed, “I never really hated you.” 

Lei didn’t believe him. I could tell from the way she blinked and swallowed some lump in her throat before training a hardened glare on him. She looked so angry at a glance that I almost expected her to yell at him or at least say something. Upon closer inspection, however, I realized that she was chewing on the inside of her cheek and tears were welling in her eyes. 

I caught the briefest glimpse of her tears before she piled all of the cookies onto the tray and carried them over to the garbage can. While her back was turned, I took the opportunity to haul Chanyeol out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and through a door marked with an Avengers poster— Lucas’s room. 

Despite his claims that he wasn’t that drunk, Chanyeol collapsed onto the bed. As if he was without a care in the world, he folded his hands behind his head atop Lucas’s pillow. Something about that sight sickened my stomach. 

“I don’t really care if you’re drunk,” I seethed, knowing well that he was at least tipsy. I closed the door in the hope that none of our conversation would flood into the party below. “You couldn’t have picked a worse time to fill Lei’s head with a bunch of crap.” 

Waving a dismissive hand, Chanyeol argued, “Everything I said was true.” 

“That’s not the point!” Chanyeol flinched at my roar not because he felt any degree of guilt, but because he probably had the beginning stages of an alcohol-induced headache. Pinching the bridge of my nose as I pressed my back against the wall, I stuttered, “I— just— is everything a joke to you or something? I get it. You hate her—”

Again, Chanyeol said, “I never hated her.” 

“Right, whatever.” I rolled my eyes. “If you’ve known all along how much I love her— if you knew that I was planning to confess, then why would you step in and ruin everything? Why did you have to make everything so— so—” I didn’t know the right word to say, so I decided to ask, “Why did you make everything so awkward?” 

Chanyeol said, “You should be thanking me! It was already awkward! I was just trying to take some of the heat for you!”

I couldn’t even argue because Chanyeol was right about at least one thing: the conversation leading into the confession was not going well before he inserted himself. I had no idea what I was doing. Maybe, by some bizarre logic, I should have been grateful or somehow relieved that somebody else had addressed my feelings first, but I wasn’t. 

I don’t usually consider myself a perfectionist, but it was clear to me that all hopes of having an ideal romantic moment with Lei were lost. Maybe they were lost before Chanyeol meddled, but it was easier to blame him than to acknowledge that maybe— tragically— Lei and I were out of step again. It was easier to glare at Chanyeol than to imagine that maybe Lei had finally outgrown me now that I was so desperate for her. 

My hand closed around the doorknob, prepared to slam the door closed behind me, when Chanyeol spoke up. “Wait a minute. I want to give you something.” Because I didn’t turn around to accept it, he threw the poorly wrapped box at my head. 

“Ow.” I rubbed at the injury as I picked the box up from the floor. Now sitting up, Chanyeol dodged the wad of wrapping paper that I launched at him. I rolled my eyes at the box’s contents. “Really, Chanyeol? Mistletoe?”

“Yeah,” he smirked, “to help you with your confession!”

As I shook my head, I think that my frown deepened, but my growing sense of annoyance didn’t stop me from carefully tucking the mistletoe into the pocket that also housed Lei’s cotton candy charm. 

“Hey!” Chanyeol shrieked when I launched the mistletoe’s box at his head. “You’re so ungrateful!” My hand closed around the doorknob again, and Chanyeol jested, “Think of me when you’re kissing your little girlfriend, punk!”

Gagging, knowing well that Chanyeol would be the last thing on my mind if ever I got around to kissing Lei, I closed the door and left him to fall asleep in Lucas’s bed. Kissing Lei was not a part of my confession plan when I arrived at the party, and it seemed like less of a viable option when she hadn’t even reacted well to a compliment. Still, I had to smile when my fingers brushed against the mistletoe in my pocket. I had to smile at the daydream even if I didn’t know how to make it a reality. 

Downstairs, the party thrived as if I had never been humiliated by Chanyeol’s loose tongue. By the punchbowl, Baekhyun convinced Lucas to down one glass after another, and (apparently) Jongdae considered it some kind of competition that Jongin moderated in mild disgust. Yesung and Ryeowook were the centers of attention as they claimed the karaoke machine for a duet. Siwon was helping Leeteuk and Shindong with the finishing details of their gingerbread village before Kyuhyun snuck up to pluck mints and gumdrops from the buildings undetected. In a corner of the room, concealed by the bright blinking Christmas tree, Donghae watched as Manager Kim and Heechul threw their heads back in laughter before sipping from their matching red mugs of hot chocolate. 

I think I would have approached Donghae a.) had I known what to say to distract him from his jealousy or pain or whatever emotion etched those lines in his forehead, and b.) had I not remained devoted to speaking to Lei, who was not in the kitchen, living room, or dining room. 

The way I found her can only be described as a happy accident. Under the excited chatter played an unfamiliar piano melody that beckoned me into a den whose entrance was mostly obscured by the Christmas tree. Frowning and alone, looking quite small in comparison to such a large instrument, Lei sat at the grand piano. Even when I eased into the space next to her on the bench, she remained focused on the keys. 

I was almost hesitant to break the silence to say, “I didn’t know you played the piano,” as I watched her slender fingers create music without hesitation. Whatever she was playing— she knew it by heart. 

“I’ve played since I was a child.” She sounded very much like all adults do when they place distance between their present and past selves. “Donghae taught me to play the piano and the guitar.”

“I didn’t know,” I repeated, frowning. I guess I was bitter at being clueless about a fact that was likely common trivia for fans— people who hadn’t even met her. I guess I was uncomfortable with the thought that there was more to Lei than what I had always known. 

Lei shrugged. “It’s not really common knowledge or anything. I’ve never produced my own ballad or played the piano live, so I guess this is a hidden talent.”

“Why?” Noticing the frown weighing on her lips, I frowned too. “Why would you want to keep this—” I nodded to the piano— “hidden?”

Even when she broke her concentration to glance up at me through her eyelashes, Lei didn’t hit a sour note. I don’t think she was capable of doing that. “I don’t,” she argued shortly. “The agency thinks that upbeat dance songs suit my image. My job is to perform what they write for me.” 

Suddenly, I understood why her melody was so unique. “You write songs,” I said not as a question but as a general statement. 

I don’t know why my mouth fell open in surprise. Lei was poetic— artistic— and it only made sense that she would pour her soul into something as beautiful as music. 

She muttered,” I wouldn’t want to perform them anyway.” Her gaze fell back onto the piano keys, but her hands stilled. Although I hadn’t expressed any confusion or disbelief, she explained, “It’s one thing for people to hate me for music that I’m not emotionally attached to, but what am I supposed to do if people misunderstand the things that truly reflect me?”

In some ways, Lei and I were very different people, and in moments like that, our differences were obvious. Don’t misunderstand— I loved performing, but it wasn’t an emotional outlet for me. I didn’t have as much to say as she did, I guess, so I didn’t feel like I sacrificed much to be who the agency wanted. There was probably no shortage of criticisms of me to be found on the internet, but I had never been the kind to seek them out. I guess I was lucky enough to have never cared who liked me. 

Because I couldn’t force my mind to work the way Lei’s did, I didn’t know what to say to make her feel better. I squirmed under the weight of her sadness. “Well, what if somebody loves the things that truly reflect you?”

She removed her hands from the cold keys, pressed them flat in her lap, and stared down at them. “I don’t know, Sehun. To tell you the truth, I can’t really imagine that.”

I opened my mouth to tell her that she didn’t have to imagine being loved, but I didn’t get the chance to say anything. Brow furrowing, she studied me through narrowed eyes. “I’m sorry— are we just going to act like that— that stuff— that happened in the kitchen didn’t happen?”

“Could we?” I laughed at the tingling embarrassment swelling in my gut. Lei didn’t so much as crack the tiniest forced grin, so I tried to adopt a more serious expression. “Look, Chanyeol says stupid shit even when he’s sober, so—”

“Yeah.” Lei agreed instantly with the nod of her head. “Yeah, I would have to be stupid or delusional to believe that you could ever like—” She choked on her words and blinked, wincing as if I had struck her. “Well, I’d have to be the biggest fool to ever take Chanyeol or any other boy to heart, huh?” Her lips trembled as she forced them into a smile. 

I knew that Lei was on the verge of tears, so why didn’t I explain that Chanyeol hadn’t been lying or even exaggerating to laugh at our expense when he said that I liked her? I don’t know. 

Probably because I didn’t know what to say, because I didn’t trust my voice to improve the situation, because I wanted to skip ahead to her next sincere smile, I pulled her gift out of my pocket. It wasn’t wrapped as neatly as her birthday gift because I hadn’t sought Junmyeon’s help. Still, the glittering snowflake pattern on the white paper was pretty. 

Lei accepted it, and her thumbs traced over the snowflakes. They must have been pretty to her too. Her eyes, which were already glossy with tears, widened as she lifted the small cotton candy charm out of the box. 

“I promised I would get you another one,” I reminded her, suddenly unable to stand the silence even if it was safer than conversation. “Remember when you almost cried at Puroland because your cotton candy melted in the rain, and I had to throw it away?” She said nothing until I nudged her. “Remember?”

“Yes.” She smiled this sad sort of smile that made me wish I hadn’t said anything at all. “I remember. I told you, I remember everything you’ve ever said to me.”

I hoped that the things I said— the things that she remembered in vivid detail— were worthwhile. I hoped that I was more than a memory, but more than that, I hoped that the me of the past was as good in hindsight as I planned to be in the present and future. Because I didn’t know how to express those hopes with words, I reached for her hand and fastened the new charm to her bracelet. 

Determined to create a moment worth remembering, I forced my voice into a light whisper. It wasn’t as hard as I imagined it would be. “You know, this one will never melt. You can keep it forever. Now, that day can be a happy memory.” 

Lei pulled her hand out of my grasp to wipe at her eyes. “Thank you, Sehun. This is so thoughtful. I wish I had something to give you.” 

Lei was never really content to just receive a gift. She had this idea that every favor had to be repaid and every kindness had to be reciprocated. Somebody needed to tell her that love is giving without expecting anything in return, but I didn’t know that well enough to say it back then. 

I don’t know why she stood from the piano bench, but I followed, likely stirred by the fear that she would run to someplace that I couldn’t follow or hide in someplace that I couldn't find or couldn’t quite reach. 

“I don’t need anything,” I told her as I reached for her hand again, desperate for some kind of contact— for some guarantee that she wouldn’t leave even if it was just temporary. “But I know something that I want.”

Lei tilted her head to look up at me, lips puckered as if she read my mind, knew my every wish, and decided to grant them. “What is it?” 

The idea flooded my mind so quickly that I didn’t have time to consider whether it was good. I fished Chanyeol’s mistletoe out of my pocket and dangled it over our heads. 

Lei admired it with round eyes, and her jaw dropped, and she gasped, “Is this real?”

She was adorable. All apprehension melted from her eyes, and she looked at me like she used to: like I hung the moon she loved so much. It didn’t matter that I knew I never once stood among the stars because she made me believe with one glance that I had. For maybe a fraction of a second that might as well have lasted forever, the fear of being a source of heartbreak or disappointment faded next to the blinding desire to be everything she ever dreamed of. I know desires like that don’t last forever and that no plan to completely restructure oneself for another is ever successful, but I felt it, and maybe that counts for something. 

While counting the stars in her eyes, melting at the wild imagination that I put them there, I wondered which of our many moments she remembered most clearly then. Was it the first— when she called me handsome without hesitation as only a child can? Was it the rain at Puroland since I had just revived that memory with a gift? Was it the time I told her to stop following me? I hoped not. Was it the heart I had imprinted on her hand?

I never asked, so I don’t know. 

As for me: every moment blurred together to paint the portrait of this person who was the most precious to me as I took the first step in filling the distance between us. 

Should I be embarrassed to admit that she was my first kiss? I’m not. As I told you, I was wary of everything romantic, and— although she made my heart jump and ache— Lei was the first girl I ever trusted to affect me. To move me. Maybe she will be the only one. Of course, you can never be certain about these things, but I cannot imagine that anyone else will ever hold the heart that she cradled in her hands for those moments that our lips touched— the heart that followed her even if it could only do so in the quietest shadows. 

I’m lucky that nobody in Super Junior caught us because I swear I kissed her for an eternity, forgetting as my heart hammered in my chest that we were never really alone. A miracle happened. I forgot that somebody is always watching, and I never quite remembered again. Or maybe I didn’t care who saw my admiration. Maybe it wouldn't have been the worst thing for somebody to see who truly mattered to me. 

When the moment ended, I didn’t want to let it go. That’s foolish, I know, but that’s a mistake everyone seems to make at least once: clinging to time whose only instinct is to flee. Ever evasive time. Ever fleeting time. Why do we try to cling to things that were never ours? It’s foolish, selfish, futile, but I understand why. It’s one of those things that you can’t explain; it’s the kind of knowledge that you only have after experience. I hope you never understand why. 

I opened my eyes first. I couldn’t bite back joyous laughter at the sight of her. She wasn’t even doing anything. She was just standing there, hands balled into fists at her sides, eyes closed. 

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of my laughter. I was too embarrassed by my outburst to meet her gaze. The silence was deafening and deepening my burning blush, so, dropping the mistletoe back into my pocket, I tried to make conversation. 

“So, was that your first kiss?”

She didn’t respond, but the answer was all too obvious. 

“It was, wasn’t it?” My cheeks hurt from smiling. 

She still didn’t respond, and I still couldn’t look at her. 

“Don’t be shy.” Like I was some expert in romance and affection, I told her, “You were good at it.” 

By then, her silence was making my stomach tighten in knots, but I wouldn’t ruin the moment by expressing anything other than happiness. I tried to joke or flirt or say anything to fill the silence. “You should be proud of yourself.” 

I finally looked at her. I think I winked. Then, I really couldn’t face her. “You just kissed the handsomest person you’ve ever seen.” 

At that, Lei didn’t even giggle. When I glanced down at her, she didn’t spare the tiniest smile. She must have been in shock. 

“I bet you wanna forget all about your dating ban, huh?” I asked, entirely too hopeful that she would break her silence to say ‘yes.’ “Just for me?”

I never got to hear Lei’s response— if she even held one behind her blank facial expression— because Minseok beckoned me to his side in the doorway. He said, “We have to leave.” 

“What?” I frowned. Having no intentions to leave when the night was young just because Minseok said so, I asked, “Why?” 

Flatly, Minseok answered, “Because Junmyeon said so.” He likely assumed that I would say nothing to challenge our leader. 

“Junmyeon?” My frown twitched. “I saw him earlier, and it looked like he was having a pretty good—”

“Stop arguing, Sehun!” Minseok rarely lost his temper, but his outbursts were always terrifying. 

I glanced back at the piano to see if Lei was watching him berate me as if I were a child, but she was nowhere to be found. Within seconds, she vanished. My heart sank. I had taken for granted that she would wait for me as she always had. Reasoning that the kiss was perfect, I never seriously considered the possibility that I had done anything wrong. 

Remembering that I spent much of my life running from my feelings, I figured that Lei was similarly afraid. Then, because I didn’t want to scare her or push her too far, I left with Minseok after dragging Chanyeol out of Lucas’s bed. For some reason, I clung to the belief that everything would work out in time even after Minseok tried to correct me. 

On the drive back to our dorm, he said, “The kiss was cute,” and I was still too ecstatic to be embarrassed that there had been a witness to such an intimate moment. 

I was still too numb with joy to care when Chanyeol, who had been laying on his back in the backseat, sat up to yell, “You kissed her?” I wasn’t even annoyed by the smirk that he must have donned when asking, “You used my mistletoe, didn’t you?”

I was still smiling like an idiot, tracing my fingers over my lips, when Minseok continued, “But everything you said afterward—”

As I finally caught on to his harsh tone, my smile started to falter. It started to crumble around the edges. I looked at Minseok and shrank under his piercing glare when he broke his gaze from the darkened road before us. I think it must have been raining. I remember turning away to watch raindrops race down the window. 

Minseok tried to speak softly, but his anger/disappointment was still all-too-audible. “I get that you’re new to romance and all, but you can’t just make fun of Lei whenever you get embarrassed.” 

“Embarrassed?” My eyes narrowed in confusion. “I wasn’t embarrassed! Well, maybe I was a little embarrassed when I laughed—”

“You laughed?” I could hear Chanyeol’s frown. Looking back, I think that’s when I should have considered Minseok’s point more carefully. 

Instead, I jumped to my defense. “It wasn’t like that! I was just happy, and—”

“Ah, I got it!” Chanyeol clapped his hands on the back of Minseok’s chair. “You were just being a big dweeb again! Relax, Minseok. Sehun just turns into a big giggling dork whenever he’s around his little girlfriend.”

Shrilly, reaching a pitch that made me and Chanyeol cringe, Minseok argued, “I will not relax!” Minseok cleared his throat with a sigh. “Whatever your intentions were, Sehun, you really hurt Lei’s feelings. I watched her eyes get watery, and—”

Because I didn’t want to believe him, I wouldn’t even let Minseok finish the sentence. “I was just kidding around.” 

Minseok nodded. “Right. Well, I’m telling you that Lei doesn’t know that. I called you away from the piano because I knew that she was about to cry, and—”

“What?” My eyes cut away from the window to dig into Minseok. “You said that Junmyeon wanted us to go home. You lied to me?” 

Minseok’s face turned pink in the moonlight. He repeated, “Lei was about to cry!”

Chanyeol gasped, “You came between Sehun and his girlfriend?” 

Minseok tried to explain to my furious blush and scorching glare, “I didn’t want to discuss this where anyone at the party could hear! I’ll take you back to the party, Sehun, if you promise to apologize, and—”

“Apologize?” I gaped at Minseok, almost laughing although nothing was funny. “Why should I apologize? I’m not sorry for kissing Lei, and I’m not sorry for flirting afterward, and—”

“You’re not sorry?” Minseok’s brow furrowed. Something about the way he looked at me took my breath and voice away. “Even though you hurt Lei?” 

Speechless, I shook my head, determined to believe that I hadn’t hurt Lei— that I hadn’t ruined what should have been a happy memory. The problem is: in hindsight, I can admit that Minseok understood Lei’s feelings better than I ever did. 

[sweetest-honeybee]

To Hell and Back

Chapter 28

Summary: Doc and Impulse respawn in Hels and meet a particularly familiar Evil Hermit.

Characters: Doc, Impulse, BadTimesWithScar :3

TW: None

———————

Wherever they respawned, it wasn’t their beds.

Groaning, Impulse and Doc pushed themselves off of the cracked stone which, contrary to how cold it usually was, was quite hot to the touch. Not enough to burn but enough to make it uncomfortable to continue laying on. As they sat back on their legs, they looked at each other with worry before turning their heads to scan the scenery around them. At first, they assumed that they were in the Nether, for whatever reason. But the sheer lack of disproportionately placed chunks of netherack and really any mobs at all cancelled those assumptions. They were on an island sat in a vast sea of lava, nobody else around. Looking up, the two discovered there was a sky. A very dark, red, muddy sky, but there was no bedrock at the top as far as they could see.

Doc stood, deciding to take some kind of action quicker than Impulse. He patted himself down to find his communicator but turned up empty handed with a growl.

“Impulse, is your communicator gone, too?” He asked while he looked around again for any signs of life. Nothing more than an obsidian tree behind them tipped with glowstone. With a step back, the creeper could see a portal of some kind in it, but completely unlit.

Impulse on the other hand checked over himself for his communicator but, like Doc, also came up with nothing.

“Nope.”

Putting his hands on his hips, Doc huffed. Okay, no communication with the other Hermits and they were stranded on some random island after being killed by The Lord of Darkness. Come to think of it, this could be the place where The Lord of Darkness resided. He thought back to a conversation he had with Xisuma weeks before. Xisuma told him that Hels said he was from a place lit only by fire and lava. Could this be the place? The Hels dimension? But where were the other Evil Hermits if this was the place, didn’t they have a home here somewhere?

The creeper grumbled to himself. Questioning everything wasn’t going to help him, nor Impulse, for sure. They needed to find a way off of this island and back to the overworld. He turned to Impulse who hadn’t stood yet, just watching Doc while he looked around the place. The poor guy did look a bit shaken up and that also reminded Doc….

“What happened when you opened that door?” he asked.

“Um, well there was that weird shadow creature-“

“The Lord of Darkness.”

“Right, that. Wels was just kinda staring at me but he looked really surprised. Like wide, bright red eyes. But, after a second, these huge shadowy hands just came at me and,” Impulse gestured to himself. “Went inside me. It felt like all of my organs were being ripped apart. After that, I was out.”

Doc nodded along to his recap, trying to piece together any kind of useful information from it. All he could come up with from his own experience afterwards and given their current appearances, they had no armor or weapons. Just in case, he pulled up his inventory as Impulse did the same. Yeah, no weapons, not even any food either. Knowing The Lord of Darkness, that thing wouldn’t hesitate to let them starve.

“Okay then,” Doc muttered. “Got nothing, but I think I know where we are.”

Impulse perked up. “You do?���

The creeper nodded. “Kind of, but it’s a solid theory. I think we’re in Hels.”

“....Hels like…..?”

“The dimension, Impulse.” The other nodded with an ‘oh’. “But, if that’s the case, there’s more Evil Hermits here somewhere and they're probably not nearly as nice.” Really, it set the bar pretty low to say that Helsknight was nice by any means, but whatever didn’t kill them on sight was what he was considering to be nice at the moment.

Impulse only became suddenly curious. “Weirdly enough, I….kinda wanna meet them. Imagine like yours is a red creeper,” he snickered.

“Ha ha, this is serious, Impulse. We need to find a way out of here. I’m wondering if we’ll just respawn here by jumping into the lava….”

“Oh, you’ll die, but not by lava.”

The two snapped their heads to the voice, Impulse standing and joining Doc near the tree. However, they were only overcome by surprise at the figure standing at the edge of the island.

“Scar? No wait, evil Scar,” Doc concluded.

The man snorted. “Smarter than ya’ look. Name’s BadTimesWithScar. Friends call me Oscar, but you two,” he eyed them pointedly, ”are not friends, are you.”

It was odd seeing the face of their friend look so downright cynical. All of the scars that Scar had over his face and neck were still in place on this alter ego. BadTimes was dawned in a similar outfit to what Scar usually wore, the brown jacket and creamy white button up complete with a hat. Only this one wore black and all of his clothing was tattered to some extent. Spikes littered the tops of his shoulders and the man wore fingerless gloves. It was almost like a weird punk version of Scar. But he didn’t look like he planned to play games.

“If we’re not friends, why are you here?” Impulse asked. BadTimes just rolled his eyes.

“Lord said I need to to take ya’ to Hels,” he shrugged. “You try anything fishy, I have your head. Got it?” They nodded hesitantly. “Good,” he finished with a sly grin. Really, it only made them miss the overworld more than anything.

BadTimes walked closer to the edge of the island where lava bubbled and popped on his boots. He gestured to the vast pool of lava. “Down there’s the castle, but you need wings.” He pulled elytra from his inventory, shoving them into the others’ chests. Yeah, they really wanted to go back to the Overworld. They were already beginning to miss Scar’s kind nature.

As they put on their elytra, they were surprised at how each set of sings just looked the same. BadTimes threw on his own and deep black bat-like wings spread across his back as did Doc and Impulse’s wings. Really, Impulse naturally had very dark wings but they were feathered and tipped with yellow. Doc’s wings usually were a set of one natural green webbed wing and a robotic counterpart.

BadTimes stepped aside with a sinister smirk. “After you, boys.”

“But won’t we-“

“Nope, hop in.”

Hesitantly, the creeper decided to go in first, mostly expecting the Evil Hermit to just prank them by letting themselves die in the lava. He took a running start and jumped, diving into the lava and spreading his wings when he found that he wasn’t in it for more than a second and he was falling. Giving them a few flaps, he steadied himself in the air and hovered there, noting that they didn’t need rockets. The stark difference in scenery down here was also mind boggling. He flew back up and through the lava to show Impulse that he was completely fine.

“Impulse, you have got to see this.”

Excited at Doc’s sudden wonder for whatever was on the other side, and that he wouldn’t die, he jumped in as well, BadTimes following after him. When he finally spread his own wings after falling for a second, he gasped at the scenery below him. There was greenery and a castle of some kind littering the area. If he was correct, Helsknight said at some point that nothing grew in Hels.

“I thought nothing grew here,” he commented.

BadTimes didn’t spare him a glance, his eyes also on the scenery below. “Everything down there is artificial. Just some fake greenery I put around because I hated the red. Hate plants too, but better than nothin’ I guess.”

That also made Doc curious. “Did you terraform all of this land?”

That brought a proud grin to BadTimes’s face and he held his head a little higher. “I did.”

With that, he dove down and flew towards the castle. It stood tall among burnt villages and destroyed farms of many kinds. Really, if nothing grew here, they didn’t need farms, but who was to say anyone didn’t come to the overworld once in a while to steal a few things. Doc and Impulse followed behind him. Within a few seconds, the trio landed in front of the doors and BadTimes glared at the guards who opened the doors with a growl. Doc and Impulse just glanced at each other with some form of concern set into their faces. They kept to following BadTimes, but halted their walking at the sight of who was on the throne.

“GRIAN?!” The two yelled in unison.

“Evil Grian,” BadTimes corrected. “That there is NPC Grian. Got more raw power on his own than the majority of Hels. He’s our Champion.”

NPC Grian looked towards them with a plastered grin. “Hello! My name is NPC Grian. Would you like to learn how to build a rustic house?”

Initially, the two snickered at the automated phrase, but the NPC, they found, was not red eyed like the other creatures in Hels. BadTimes wasn’t either, actually. His eyes were a bright, almost glowing, yellow-green and the NPC’s eyes were one of the brightest shades of blue they’ve ever seen on a player.

And they’ve met Wels.

Unlike Grian’s outfit or anything really similar to it, NPC Grian wore fairly formal attire. He was dressed in a black and red vest trimmed with gold and a creamy white shirt underneath which the sleeves hung inches away from his elbows. He stared at them expectantly, probably waiting for their answer.

“You say no, he’ll force you to build forever,” BadTimes whispered to them. “You say yes, he’ll go easy on you.”

They looked at each other, then meeting the NPC’s gaze. “Uh….sure?” They answered in unison. The piercing gaze lifted, a genuine smile brought onto the NPC’s face.

“I like you two!” He cheered. “That is just a test. Since you said yes, I am letting you wander around for a few hours before The Lord of Darkness tells me what to do with you.”

Well, it wasn’t building for all eternity, they thought. Impulse nudged Doc’s arm with his elbow.

“Doc, we can meet the other Evil Hermits, see what’s going on around here, get some help,” he muttered. The creeper nodded, turning to BadTimes.

“Seeing as we're allowed to roam, why don't we meet other Evil Hermits.”

BadTimes grinned, glancing at NPC who nodded, then turned back to them. “I don’t see why not.”

[skylarmoon71]

Harrison Wells x Reader- Chapter 4 (Final)

You hummed along to a tune in your head, a cup of coffee in your hand as you bounced through the halls of S.T.A.R Labs. It was the afternoon, Cisco had a date with gypsy, Caitlin was off covering some research and Barry was probably somewhere following Iris around like a puppy dog. You were grateful for the space, now you could have some well deserved one on one time with Harry. It was tough, with your workload at the hospital, and Central City constantly being attacked by metahumans, there was rarely any down time for you and Harry. 

The sadder part was that not much happened after you both admitted your feelings. You hadn’t even kissed yet. You didn’t pay much mind to it though. This was still pretty new, and he was from another earth. Maybe dating was different on their earth. You kept telling yourself that because Harry hadn’t really made much of a move on you. Which was weird because he was the take charge type. Aside from longing looks from across the room and cute smiles exchanged between you two, there wasn’t much going on. 

As slow as you were willing to take it, three months had passed. He should have at least tried to kiss you by now. 

“(Y/N).” you jumped, turning at the person calling to you. 

“Detective West.” you smiled. “You startled me.” He smiled back. 

“Well you were standing there just spacing out for a good few seconds. I just came to grab some paperwork Barry left here.” he moved over to the desk, picking up a box. When he got it he titled his head. “Well enjoy the rest of your evening. “ 

When he said that and got no response he just looked at you. You blinked and then answered. “O-Oh yes, thank you. “ you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear moving to sit down and gather your thoughts. Joe seemed a bit conflicted to leave now. “Is everything okay, you look a bit off?” 

“That obvious huh.” you laughed. He nodded, moving closer, he braced the box on the table giving you a comforting look. 

“What’s bothering you?” you didn’t know how to phrase this in a way that wouldn’t make the entire conversation awkward, so you just flat out said it. 

“Harry he..he hasn’t really done anything yet. I feel like I made my feelings known and he did too yet, we’re at a sort of impasse.” Joe understood. You could see the gears turning in his head. 

“Well, if I’m being honest, in the time I’ve known him he’s not been the most socially adapted person. It took a while for us to even tolerate each other. Chances are he wants to be more intimate with you, but he isn’t sure how. I think you just need to let him know what you want. Hints are already hard for us regular guys to pick up on, so for him it might be near impossible. “ you almost burst out a laugh. 

“That’s true.” you said trying to contain your smile. You knew Joe was a pillar of wisdom, but what Barry told you didn’t do him justice. You were glad you could confide in him. It didn’t even make you uncomfortable. Somehow it felt like a parent-child conversation. The guy oozed paternal energy. “Thank you, really. “ Joe nodded, lifting the box.

“Always here to help!” he called while walking out the building. With your recent advice you figured you’d go and do just that. If you didn’t tell Harry what you wanted, you were positive this would go on for the next three months. You couldn’t have that. You picked up your coffee, moving to go and find the brooding scientist. 

Just as you stepped into the hallway, a flash of lightning caught your view. You almost fell back on your butt. Your eyes moved to where the red suited hero was laying on the ground screaming in pain. You tossed your coffee rushing over to him. 

“F-Flash what’s wrong!!” Your eyes caught an arrow that was lodged into his stomach. You pulled out your phone dialing Caitlin. 

“C-Caitlin get everyone to the lab now, s-something's wrong with Flash!” she didn’t stay on long enough to ask questions. You dropped your phone trying to console him. From what Cisco once told you he had incredible healing abilities so why weren’t they working. The more he moved the more blood seemed to come out of his wound. 

“(Y/N)!!��� Harry had his gun in hand, he lowered it when he saw you on the floor with Barry. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong he isn’t healing!” you were panicked. Harry reached over pulling off his cowl. Your eyes widened at the face of the person behind the mask. You looked up at Harry in confusion and he gave you a look. Probably saying you would discuss it later. You felt stupid, how did you not put the pieces together. All the clues were there. Barry was crying now. 

“P-Please get it out..” he begged. The blood was pooling below him. If you didn’t do something quick it might be too late. 

“H-Harry..” you couldn’t bare to see him in so much pain. You knew you told Harry you wouldn’t use your powers recklessly, but this was Barry, your friend. Harry nodded.

“It’s okay (Y/N).” Harry turned back, hands gripping the edge of the arrow. “One three we’re going to remove it okay Allen.” Barry just whimpered, barely conscious. 

“One, Two, Three!” Harry yanked it out and Barry yelled. You stared in horror at how large the other end was. There was a small blinking light on the end. Your eyes looked back when you saw how pale Barry’s skin looked. He was letting out shallow breaths. 

“His healing is delayed, he should be recovering. “ Harry’s statement made you a bit unnerved. 

“Shit!” you made quick work, hands outstretched. A red light emitted from his body. There were also sparks that followed. You just watched, slowly you could see the wound in his stomach closing up. The red light that left his body ran through your own. You felt a bit dizzy. When the wound was no longer there you lowered your hands, putting them in front of you on the ground to keep you upright. Your heart was pounding in your chest unnaturally. Your eyes wouldn’t focus.

“Breathe, breathe.” you tried coaxing yourself. 

“(Y/N)!!!” when your gaze finally cleared you were shocked to see Barry sitting up. He looked a bit guilty. You waved him off before he could even speak. “Don’t give me that look, it’s fine. I understand why you didn’t say anything. “ When your heart got back under control you sat up. 

“So… when am I going to get a suit?” your question made a grin stretch on Barry’s face as he pushed your shoulder playfully. 

~~

“That was a close one, that arrow was pretty bad. But everything had healed nicely.” When Caitlin was done with her observation Iris stepped forward fretting over Barry. You stifled a giggle. Cisco was examining the arrow. “This is really something. There was a power dampening chip inside. It explains why you couldn’t heal, especially this size. The effects must have lingered because of how long it stayed in your body. You’re lucky it didn’t rupture to many vital organs.” Barry nodded. “Yeah, I was just investigating a lead. I didn’t even see it coming. “ 

“Well be more careful next time, you’re fast, not invincible.” you added. 

“Exactly.” Iris agreed. You could tell from her tone she was about to give him another lecture. When they talked you moved closer to Harry. You bumped his shoulder slightly, looking up at him. He smiled down at you. “Harry, thank you for trusting me. I know it’s probably not easy for you every time I use my abilities. “ Harry shook his head. “You were right before. I know you can handle yourself, I can’t say I love seeing you hunched over in pain, but I can’t ask you to give up something that defines you. It would be the same as telling Allen to stop being The Flash.”

“Yeah, how did I not figure that out!” he chuckled. “Most of the city still doesn’t know so don’t feel bad.” You grinned. For a moment the both of you just continued to stare at each other. You thought for sure he would do something. He didn’t though. His eyes fell and he looked like he was about to step away. 

“Harry.” he stopped, gaze moving back to you. “Please kiss me.” you could tell from the stunned look in his eyes he didn’t see that coming. You weren’t sure what was going through that big brain of his, but you just wanted him to know that he was enough. Maybe the entire time he just felt like you didn’t want him making any advances. You don't know what it was. And you didn’t care. Whatever insecurities he had you would squash them once and for all. 

“I’ve been very straight about what I want Harry, I want you. So please just kiss m-” you didn’t get a chance to finish. He leaned in pressing a searing kiss to your lips. You pressed back into the desk at the sudden action, hands reaching up to grasp at anything. They finally settled on his chest. He stepped forward, one hand swiping the contents of the desk unto the floor. 

“Hey!!” Cisco protested. Harry ignored. His hands gripped at your thighs, lifting you unto the desk. When you were comfortably seated he slipped between your legs, still kissing you hungrily. You moaned at the insistent way his lips moved against your own, as if he’d been starved of your taste. The audience in the backward quickly realized that neither of you looked like you were stopping anytime soon. They started to slip out, Cisco was the first to dive through the door. 

“Don’t forget protection!!” his warning fell on deaf ears. Harry was still pawing at you. When your lips finally separated you were sucking in heavy breaths. Harry’s lips moved to your neck, pressing heated kisses to every inch of skin he could. “You..have no idea..how much I’ve been holding back..” he mumbled between kisses. 

“I-I think I have any idea..” you whispered. His eyes moved back to yours. The gleam that shone made your heart skip a beat. “This entire time I was wondering why you didn’t even kiss me. I guess we were both reading the situation wrong. “ His palms caressed your cheek. 

“It’s a bit difficult for me to show how I feel sometimes. I wasn’t sure if you were comfortable with this level of intimacy. There are so many differences between my earth and this one. I didn’t want to make a mistake that would jeopardize our relationship.”

That made sense. At that moment you realized just how thoughtful Harry really was. He was willing to hold out just to make sure you were comfortable. He really did surprise you. 

“Next time let’s talk like adults okay. Don’t just make a decision like that on your own. I was honestly doing the same. I thought this would be hard for you so I was waiting for you to make a move.” 

He smirked. “And that I did. “ you blushed remembering your position. He really did. It caught you completely off guard. You wouldn’t say it to his face though. His ego didn’t need any more boosts. Although maybe you didn’t have to. He could read you like a book. 

You broke eye contact, looking over at the items he threw on the floor. It took you a while to recognize that everyone else already left. When your eyes reconnected with Harry’s you swallowed at the hungry look in his eyes. 

“Damn...” from the looks of it, you weren’t leaving S.T.A.R Labs anytime soon. 

[aweebwrites]

Fire and Lightning (Hooves and Fins AU)

“Hey Kai, I was thinking about moving the nest.” Jay spoke as he added Kai's feathers to said nest.

“What? Where?” Kai asked more than a little surprised, talons filled with the remains of their snack.

“Just higher up.” Jay says, looking across at him. “I mean, we can still keep a nest down here but I checked out the caves close to the top of the cliff and… I don't know… They seem cosier.” He shrugged.

“Hmm…” Kai hummed, considering it.

It was convenient to be honest. While he hadn't inherited all the mer genes his sister had (the scales on his legs and hands were orange red instead of yellow or black like all other harpies and appeared more aquatic than avian), he sensed enough that summer which was just a few weeks away was a time for mating and it would be best if they weren't there for it. The middle caves were all taken and reserved by Wu for Lloyd who had left for the Spirit Coves a week ago and Garmadon who was due back soon. The upper caves were smaller and with several entry and exit points but with more secluded areas that would be perfect for their nest. He's visited before and knew that much. It was ideal for harpies and all avians. Best yet, all the caves were interconnected so they didn't have to leave in order to visit the rest of their flock on the lower levels. Kai nodded.

“Sounds good actually.” He says and Jay beamed. “But as much as I love this nest, we can't move it up. We'll have to make a new one and leave this one for when we visit.” He pointed out and Jay nodded.

“We're just going to have to make an even better nest than this.” He grinned and Kai nods.

“But since it was your idea, you get to tell the others.” Kai says hopping out, taloned hands on his hips.

“Aw man…”

_________________

“Moving out?!” Nya and Zane gasped once they all gathered them by the shore.

“Jay phrased that wrong.” Kai says, interrupting. “We're not moving out. We're moving up. Higher into the caves. Close to the top of the cliff.” He clarified.

“Oh.” Both mers say in relief.

“I told you I couldn't do it.” Jay huffed, batting his winged arm at him.

“That's cool. But does that mean you'll have to build a new nest? I thought the one in the pool room was your favorite.” Cole questioned, his lower half submerged under water.

He would have looked like a mer too if it wasn't for his lack of fins and scales.

“Yeah. But we're going to build one better than that.” Jay says determinedly, hovering in the air. “We just need quality supplies.” He says, looking around.

“Perhaps we can help.” Wu suggested with a smile.

“Really? That'll be awesome!” Jay chirped and so began the quest for nesting material.

_______________

“I had these furs laying around.” Cole says, bring an arm full of deer, rabbit, moose and other mammal furs. “I was saving them for the winter for you guys since you don't fly south but if you can use them now…” He says and Jay looked them over, stroking the furs and nodded.

“They're perfect! Thanks Cole!” Jay says, allowing Kai to take them by the talons on his feet as he flew up to the cave they chose.

“So you pick the stuff and Kai builds it?” Cole asked as he watched him go.

“Yeah. He builds a mean nest. I'll help decorate but that's it. My nests never last long.” Jay says sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “On the plus side, Kai always picked the most uncomfortable things for nests so it works out.” He shrugged.

“I found a bunch of these along the water surface a few miles away.” Nya says as she came up from the water, pushing out several long pieces of wet straw.

“Wait, you left the lake?” Kai asked as he came back.

“Yeah. So?” She asked as Jay looked them over before using the talons on his feet to filter them out. “Skylor was with me if you were worried.” She says and Skylor came up then, holding a lot of moss.

“Harpies use this stuff, right?” She asked, and Jay pulled those out too.

“Yeah but we're gonna leave these to dry.” Jay says, setting them out of the water's reach.

“Where's-” Cole was cut off by Zane's head popping up out of the water, chewing something.

“I found some Kelp. It's surprisingly tasty.” He says, coming up with a hand full.

“Ooh! Kelp! Don't mind if I do.” Nya says, swimming over and taking some.

“That looks great and all but I don't think it'll work.” Kai says with a grimace.

“I was hoping you'd say that.” Zane admits then shrugged them out of his arms to reveal several colourful seashells. “You can decorate with these, right?” He asked and Jay was already picking a few up, not minding the cold water on his exposed legs.

“These are gorgeous!” He says in awe, looking over a single large one about the size of his head. “We'll take them.” He says, tossing the big one to Kai and gathering the small ones.

“Perhaps these will help for support.” They all looked over to see Wu walking out from the woodlands towards them.

He had long lengths of plants that looked almost like vines but a little less flexible.

“These limbs are flexible now but they become firm and permanent in shape once they're dry. They'll be hard to break once they are as well.” He says and Kai was the one to look over and ponder his finding.

“Definitely. Thanks Sensei.” Kai says, taking him and Wu only nods.

“I think we have everything we need. We've never collected enough supplies for a whole nest this quickly before. Thanks guys.” Jay says and Kai echoed his thanks as well.

“Hey, it's what a family does.” Skylor says with a smirk. “Now go build your nest already. I wanna hear all about it when you're done.” She says and Kai and Jay looked at each other before nodding.

_____________

“Remember when I said the nest in the pool room was the best?” Jay asked as Kai weaved the walls of the nest with the straw, vine things and moss.

“Yeah?” Kai smirked as he continued to work.

“I change my mind. This is the best nest.” Jay sighed, snuggling into the first at the bottom.

“It's not even done yet.” Kai chuckled, making sure the area was firm before moving on.

“It goes to show!” Jay grinned, sitting up now. “The shells are really nice too. Maybe we can go out and find more things for the walls, don't you think?” He asked, looking around at where he set them all up, the biggest one that was a perfect blend of red and blue on a small shelf like ledge behind the nest.

“Once were done building the nest that is. It'll take me awhile to finish. With all the supplies the others got us, this'll be our biggest nest yet.” Kai says and Jay beamed at that.

Their previous nests were cozy indeed but more space was a thing they needed. Or at least he does. He made it a habit to lay down sleeping instead of sitting up like all avians. It was just more comfortable that way.

“Awesome! I can't wait until it's done!” Jay says excitedly.

“No lightning. You might start a fire. You know better.” Kai scolded and Jay pouted but grinned, resting his chin on his shoulder.

He couldn't wait.

______________

It ended up taking all of that day and well into the next before Kai declared it done and he was right: it was huge! He could lay on his back and still have space all around.

“Yeah, yeah. I'm glad you like it but I'm starving. Let's go get something to eat.” Kai says, nudging him and Jay nods, flying out after him.

A dip, a turn and a twist and they were out of the caves, over the lake. Jay looked down, noting the difference to the lake. One side had chunks of ice littering about and was deep blue while the other side was a warm blue green colour. He could spot Nya easily in the water but despite being a more white than anything else mer, Zane was near impossible to spot. A spiral dive down showed a flicker of white and blue amongst the waves.

He wasn't looking for them however. Her pulled his wings close to himself, diving down and extending his talons, grabbing the large fish lingering near the surface to get away from Zane and letting his wings carry him up before he could sink. He flew towards the shore- but startled when something launched up and snatched his fish, making him squawk in surprise, fight or flight instincts telling him to get out of there quick. It was only when he heard familiar laughter did he turn around, hovering.

“Cole you jerk!” Jay yelled, watching the kelpie tread the water, still holding his fish.

“Serves you right. You gotta be more alert.” He says, swimming over and handing him his fish he took with a huff. “I take it the nest's all done?” He asked as Zane came up next to him.

“Yup. Kai just finished it up. We skipped dinner and breakfast so we need to refuel.” Jay says then looked over once he heard a splash.

He was just in time to see Nya jump over Kai only to land back in the water with an even bigger splash. Kai only hovered there, startled.

“Told you I could do it! Pay up!” Nya says to Skylor who was watching near by.

“Alright, alright. Here.” Skylor says, handing her over a large blue lobster.

“Yes!” Nya grinned and dug in, her teeth were not as sharp as Zane's but tough enough to break through the shell with ease.

“Is it give the harpies a heart attack day?” Jay questioned, flying over to his mate and passing over the fish he caught him.

“When is it not?” Skylor asked with a grin.

“Mean Sky. Mean.” Kai huffed before flying over to the cold side and landing on the closest chunk of ice.

He then took the fish in hand and began eating.

“I can catch you one of you'd like.” Zane suggested, he and Cole swimming closer.

“Nah. I've got it.” Jay says, flying up again and scanning both sides of the lake.

The cold water fish were great but sometimes it's good to get back to the classics. His keen eye caught a medium sized fish swimming along near the surface on the warm side and dove down watching it. It began to swim, spotting his shadow but it was too late. His wings weren't as big as Kai's but they were built for speed. He caught it no problem and carried it over to where Kai was, eating as well.

“You know, I've been meaning to ask Sky. Since you're part Naga, doesn't that make you cold blooded?” Cole asked her as they all lingered by the ice chunk the two harpies were eating on.

“Yes. But only when I'm not wearing my seal skin. It's complicated but it's why I hardly take it off during the winter. If I keep it off for too long, my blood will cool and I'll hibernate.” She says as Nya idly swim on her back, eating her prize much like an otter.

“That answers some questions.” Jay says around a mouth full of raw fish.

“Don't talk with your mouth full.” Kai scolded, smacking him with his wing.

Jay stuck his tongue out at him in retaliation.

“Don't worry, I'll punish that mouth the second we get back.” Kai says lowly and Jay flushed deeply, eyes wide.

“I didn't need to hear that.” Nya says as she turned over and swum away.

“Well, at least we know who's the submissive in the relationship~” Skylor cooed before swimming off as well.

“My ears Kai.” Cole says, covering them.

“I don't understand.” Zane says and Cole looked at him then at the harpy duo, torn between gushing over how innocent he was or scolding them for exposing him to things like that.

“You should tell him before Skylor does.” Kai says with a smirk and Cole grimaced at that.

He then motioned Zane closer and whispered into his finned ear. It was comical watching Zane go blue so quickly all over.

“I- I see.” He stuttered out, eyes wide. “Excuse me.” He says, ducking under the water quickly.

“Zane-” Cole says then dove after him and Kai snickered.

“You better hurry up~” Kai says, rubbing his feathers suggestively against Jays before flying off back to the nest.

Jay never ate quicker.

________________

(This turned out longer than expected and by the time I was done, it was way too late to post. Onto the fic; things took a little suggestive turn in the end but that's ok. Jay and Kai are the only ones who are officially mates here. Zane and Cole may think of each other as mates already but it's not yet official. Not sure if I will actually write about their first coupling but if I do, I'd probably have to post it elsewhere. That's it for now! See you guys later!)

[jasperrollswrites]

Finer Things

This is...something special.

@aardvarkia​ has been something of an inspiration of mine - there was a period back in mid-2015 when I first discovered his initial Bear Cap story on CYOC and spent the next week and a half or so obsessively re-reading it. It’s still one of my absolute favourite TF stories today. I always felt like I couldn’t quite match up, however - before, I’ve struggled with making stories go past 8 pages.

So, imagine my surprise when he contacts me saying he liked one of my earlier stories and is willing to commission me for something. To be honest, it got me a little panicked, and I found it hard to even start. But as with most things I’m afraid of doing, once I did get started, I found it easier than I thought...and ended up writing my longest story so far.

This is a bit different from my usual thing, more archetype than character TF, but really I’m game to do more of this kind of thing - I think not having to make the subject align with a rigid set of character traits leaves a lot more room for creativity.

So with that out of the way, please enjoy this story of a life-changing trip to the West End of London! (Side-note: that watch costs nearly £7,000. kid’s lucky he didn’t actually pay for it.) (Extra side-note: this one’s also pretty NSFW so if that isn’t your thing then maybe skip a bit towards the end)

——————— 

Prologue

Being a parent can be tough in a lot of ways. Parents want to pass on something of what they’ve learned and raise their kids the right way, but kids can be difficult - some kids especially so. No matter what they try, how they phrase it, no matter what values they try to instill, some kids just never take on the lessons their parents want to impart. They wonder where they might have gone wrong, but sometimes, it really isn’t the parents fault. Sometimes the kid is just a little shit.

Garrett Parsons could, if you were feeling unfair, perhaps be described as one of those kinds of kids. It wasn’t like he’d lacked any opportunities. He grew up in a upper-middle class family - parents who were happy to work hard to achieve the finer things in life. His older siblings had gone on to do respectable things with their lives, getting their own houses, paying their own way. His parents had spent just as much time on him as a little kid as they had on his sister, Katherine and his brother, Barry, although maybe Garrett didn’t see it that way.

Maybe it was the friends he’d ended up with throughout school, maybe it was perceived pressure from the relative success of his siblings, maybe it was just something about being the youngest of three. Maybe it was all of those things, or none of them. Finding the reason for this kind of thing is always hard, but the ultimate fact of it was, whatever upper-middle class values his family had tried to instill in him, it was like absolutely none of it took.

Where his siblings and extended family had all gone to college to further their education, Garrett got out of school as early as possible and never went back, much to his parents consternation. Where his family appreciated fine restaurant dining, Garrett went to bars and pubs as early as he could - the more of a dive the place was, the better, it seemed. Where his family enjoyed high-quality HBO drama, he spent his time watching the soap opera of pro-wrestling. His family tried to broaden their music tastes - Garrett had only time for hard metal, sneering at anything that wasn’t played at 120+ decibels and practically shook the house. Perhaps the lens of pop culture is a limiting view, but the simple fact was, now at 18, Garrett rejected almost everything his family appreciated.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t tried to bridge the gap. After all, that was what this whole vacation was about.

The family was from Massachusetts, but for their summer vacation, they’d gone outside of America for once and taken a trip to London, England for two weeks. Garrett and his parents had travelled separately from his siblings, so they’d met up with Katherine (hair dyed blonde recently) and Barry (trying and failing to grow a beard) at Heathrow on the first day. They’d gone to a restaurant Katherine had recommended - she made a habit of making sure she knew about what was hip and cool back home, so of course she would do prior research for England. Everyone else seemed to have enjoyed it, but Garrett considered it all very pretentious. The food was too artsy, the waiters were stuck up, with their poncy British accents...No-one agreed with him, but it had been awhile since he’d found common ground with anyone in his family.

They were spending their week at a pretty high class hotel, which wasn’t something Garrett was about to complain about - it had a big underground pool. He’d tried to stay out of family activities, but he’d skipped too many for his parents liking, so today he was being dragged to a West End show - although Garrett had almost stopped them from going when his mother had found out he hadn’t bothered to bring any smart clothes. It had turned into a shouting match, his mother’s curly red hair shaking about as she wondered what she was going to do about Garrett, telling him she’d informed him of this months in advance, while his father scratched the top of his bald head, staying out of it, having given up on trying do anything about Garrett about 2 years ago.

Garrett, for his part, couldn’t understand what the big deal was. They were just going to see some crappy musical. Who cared what he was wearing? They’d all be looking at the stage, why would they care about some guy wearing a grey hoodie and some jeans? Big whoop, what an embarrassment. So what? It wasn’t like he made much of an impression anyway. He was only about 5 ft 4, he’d never put any time into working out, and his relatively fast metabolism kept him thin, for now, so it was hardly like he was noticable to anyone. He just looked like anyone else. Mom had been yelling something about expectations or etiquette or something, but it all just bounced off Garrett at this point.

In the end they’d dragged him along anyway, even though Garrett would’ve much preferred staying in the hotel. He’d even offered to stay if he was such an embarrassment, but his Mom had said it would be a waste of the money they’d spent on getting a ticket for him. God, it wasn’t like he had asked her to buy one. With that, Garrett had elected to tune out for the rest of the day. He didn’t care about his family, he didn’t care about this crappy show, he didn’t care about any of it. They could nag him all they wanted, he wasn’t going to say anything. All he wanted was to leave and go back to the pub back home.

That would probably be why he never understood what happened when they got into the theater. There’d been some kind of mistake or something, but Garrett had, as previously mentioned, tuned out. They’d mixed up the seats or something, or...they’d probably offended Mom somehow, she got offended by everything if it wasn’t up to snuff.

“We’re very sorry, Mrs. Parsons”, some young, clean cut staff member was saying, in a simpering, sort of wimpy English accent, “but they’re the only seats we have left.”

“I paid specifically for these 5 seats! T-7 to T-11!” Mom said in a shrill tone, her Boston accent a stark contrast to the English surround her. “Look, it’s on the receipt!” She was digging into her handbag now, finding the receipt out of the billions she seemed to keep a hold of. Garrett watched impassively, scratching at his shoulder length brown hair as the two went back and forth - seemed like they’d miscounted and only four seats were free. He stuck his hands into his pockets, his blue denim jeans hanging low on his thin waist - if he hadn’t been wearing his hoodie, you’d be seeing his pants

As they were talking, another staff member was coming over. He was pretty smartly dressed, even for theater staff - a freshly cleaned and pressed black dinner suit with a black tie. He was looking to be approaching his mid-50s, but he didn’t look bad for it - a handsome face, not unlike Sean Connery with a buzzcut. His hair was grey, but it only complemented his look, in combination with the well looked after beard. He was clearly something of a bodybuilder - the suit hid his muscles somewhat, but it was hard to miss that this guy was big in every way. He seemed to be approaching 7 feet tall, with all the muscle he’d gained.

“Hello, Mr. Parsons, Mrs. Parsons,” the man said, in a calm, deep voice. Unlike his colleague, his English accent was smoother, more confident. “I’m the senior manager here, Jeremiah Carter. I’ve already been informed of the situation, and I think I’ve worked out something of a solution.” Garrett raised an eyebrow. Senior manager? He looked more like a club bouncer.

Garrett’s mom suddenly seemed quite taken with Mr. Carter. “Oh, well, what is it?” she asked, the shrillness gone from her voice almost immediately.

“Well, Mrs. Parsons,” Jeremiah began, “Unfortunately it’s not a perfect solution, as due to the planning mixup we can’t get a full set of five seats side-to-side for your family. We do have five seats, but one of them will be separate from the others. It’s a private seat - it was previously reserved, but the person who reserved had to back out at the last moment. It’s quite an excellent seat, really, you’ll get a great view of the production, but it would be separate from the other seats.”

“So...someone will have to sit on their own?” Katherine said.

“Like I said, it’s not perfect, but, as a form of compensation, your meal after the show will be on the house.” Jeremiah offered.

“Oooh...that sounds great!” Mom said. “Although, yes, someone would have to sit on their own…”

There was a moment of silence, as the family pondered what to do, but to Garrett it seemed obvious.

“I’ll take the empty seat, you all want to sit together, so…” he said.

“Oh, Garrett, well...I don’t know, we…” Barry said, umm-ing and ahh-ing.

“It’s fine. I’ll take it.” Garrett said, with resignation in his voice. “Just show me where it is.” It wasn’t like he cared anyway. It was just another way besides the clothes that he was separated from his family. At least he’d get a nicer seat. The younger staff member they’d been talking with before looked at Garrett a bit funny, like he thought Garrett didn’t deserve it.

“If that’s fine with you, Mr. Parsons?” Jeremiah asked. “The show is starting soon so I would advise you to be quick.”

“Hey, we’re getting a free meal, aren’t we?” Garrett’s dad replied good-naturedly. “You won’t catch me complaining.” The rest of the family seemed to nod in unison, almost like they were happy to be rid of Garrett for a couple of hours.

“Excellent!” Jeremiah said. He turned to the younger staff member. “Ellis, show the Parsons to their seats, and I’ll take, uh...Garrett, was it?” He looked back at Garrett. Garrett was silent for a second, then nodded. “I’ll take Garrett to the booth.”

“Come talk to us at the intermission,” Katherine said, as the young man took the rest of the family away. Garrett made a noncommittal grunt.

“Well, if you’d like to come with me…” Jeremiah said, leading the way.

The two men walked up some steps, Garrett following behind the mountain of muscle that was Jeremiah. Things were awkwardly quiet for a good half a minute, until Jeremiah spoke up.

“You don’t want to be here, do you, Garrett?” he said. It was a question, but he said it like he already knew the answer.

“How would you know?” Garrett said, somewhat rudely.

“Mm...the clothes. The attitude. You were very eager to take this seat. Almost like you don’t want to be with your family.”

“Why do you care?” Garrett said, angrier now. Who the fuck did this guy think he was, acting all buddy buddy?

“It doesn’t seem like that long ago that I was like that. I didn’t appreciate my family.” Jeremiah said, wistfulness in his voice. “You shouldn’t let those connections slip. Wait too long, and before you know it, they’ll be gone, and you’ll be left with a lot of regrets.”

“Fuck off.” Garrett responded.

“Mmhm. Well, here’s your seat, Garrett.” Jeremiah said, as they came to a door. He opened it, revealing a little balcony with a single, red plush seat with a golden frame. Garrett stepped in, and sat on the seat - it was very comfortable, perhaps the most comfortable chair he’d ever sat on in his life.

“I hope you enjoy the show.” Jeremiah said, and stepped back into the hallway, closing the door. Alone again, he rubbed his hands together, to generate a little bit of heat, and looked at the small sign to the left of the door, unseen by Garrett. It was blank at the moment, but before long, little letters wrote themselves in.

Reserved for Rupert Carter

Producer

Jeremiah blinked. He hadn’t expected that. Maybe it was a coincidence. Too late now. He walked away, a little bit of doubt in his mind.

Act I

Garrett wasn’t sure whether the single seat he’d been given was a good thing or a bad thing. One the one hand, he didn’t have to listen to his parents nagging at him about how he wasn’t appreciating the...culture or whatever. On the other hand, it was somehow even more boring up in this private balcony seat. He looked down at the audience below, to try and see if he could spot his family, but quickly gave up on it. It wasn’t like he really cared. The only thing he really gave a shit about right now was getting out of this stuffy theater as soon as possible.

The lights went down, and as they did, Garrett had pulled out his phone. He’d already decided he didn’t really care to watch this. He wasn’t even sure what they’d gone out to see, since he hadn’t been paying attention. He’d heard something about a musical, something about 50/60s America or something like that. It was already enough for him to decide it wasn’t worth his time. Musicals never had any good music, it was all...poppy, Glee shit, and the fact it was about history made it worse. Nothing interesting happened in the past, it was all boring civil rights marches, shit that got buried decades ago but people kept bringing up, like it meant anything these days. Not to mention the fact that they were in England - he bet none of these idiots could even speak a good American accent, let alone sing in one.

Garrett tapped the Twitter app, having to tap it a couple of times for it to register, due to the crack going diagonally across the screen. He wanted to see if he could catch up with what his friends back home were doing, but the signal inside the theatre was crappy - only one bar showing up, so it was taking ages to load anything, and he was just stuck looking at a grey screen with the infuriating little spinning wheel.

Tweets aren’t loading right now. Please tap to retry. Garrett rolled his eyes. Well, he might as well look at the show while he waited. At least it was something to watch. Some fat girl was on-stage, with the most obvious wig he’d ever seen on her head. He had to admit the stage looked pretty good - the backdrop looked convincingly like a street, and the thing they were doing with the rising light to make it look like the sun was coming up was pretty neat, but...that song was grating. It was something about Baltimore, and she kept holding the note...god it was annoying. As far as Garrett was concerned, the fat lady had sung, so the show was already over.

He looked back down at his phone to see if Twitter had elected to load yet. It had, but...something was wrong.

He didn’t know...any of these people. Where were all his friends? It was a bunch of weird, gay shit, bodybuilders, and people talking about theater shows, and crap. Had he somehow been signed into the wrong account? He went to check his profile, but before he could, his right hand suddenly seized up with pain, and he dropped the phone, leaving it to clack loudly on the wooden floor of the little balcony.

“Shit”, he hissed to himself, half because of the pain, half because he hoped he hadn’t cracked the screen even more now. Where the hell had that come from? He held his hand, pain still shooting through it, leaving his hand paralyzed, his fingers curled tightly, but still open. He looked down at it - had he suddenly been hit with carpal tunnel or something? He was trying to rationalise it, but as he held his hand, it was quickly becoming clear that this was something altogether different.

He could feel his right hand...growing. It was the only way to describe it. He had placed his left hand over the back of the right, holding on around the wrist, but the fingers on his left hand were being pushed further apart, struggling to grip his right as the palm was expanding. He heard some muffled cracks, feeling the bones his hands and knuckles pop as his fingers got thicker. He brought his left hand away, as the pain subsided, checking to confirm that he wasn’t just imagining this, holding it next to his right.

The difference was impossible to miss. His right hand was almost double the size of his left, but it wasn’t just the size that was different. The skin on his right hand had changed, looking rougher, more wrinkled...older. Not horrendously old, but like...the hand of someone at least 25 years older than him. He moved his right hand, almost a little afraid of it, like it was an alien. With his thickened index finger, he gingerly brought it to the back of his left hand. Once again, the difference was impossible to miss - the skin on his left hand felt young and smooth, while the feeling of his right hand was more weathered. Older, but well looked after. He turned his hands over, and curled his fingers, looking at his fingernails - the ones on his left hand were grubby, while the fingernails on his right looked much cleaner, and clipped too. The difference was like night and day.

Garrett was at a loss for what to do. He was afraid of what had just happened to his hand - it seemed like something he should go get someone qualified in first-aid about, but what was he supposed to say? His hand spazzed out and then suddenly it was like 50 years old? They’d think he was making some kind of joke until he showed them. He rapidly opened and closed his fingers, then shook his hand, and looked back at the stage, stony-faced. He was...he was...hallucinating, or something. He’d skipped breakfast and they hadn’t had lunch yet. He was hungry, so he was imagining things. Just ignore it. He clamped both hands to the armrests of the chair - then remembered he’d dropped his phone. Still looking at the stage as best he could, he reached down, making sure to use his left hand, and reached around blindly for the phone, finding it by feel and coming back up again.

He looked down at the phone, trying to angle his view so that he couldn’t see his right hand out of the corner of his eye, and checked Twitter again. The same shit as before - accounts for West End shows, celebrity actors, and...unnerving amounts of muscular men in very little clothing. He scrolled a bit, but couldn’t see any of his friends. Either he was hacked, or signed into the wrong account. He checked the profile - it was the second one. The username was @real_ru_carter. Garrett had no idea who this was supposed to be, or how he had ended up signing into this guy’s account - judging by the checkmark and the amount of notifications he was getting, he was someone notable. If things had been different, Garrett might have tried to mess around with this account, but he was freaked out enough by the...hallucination he’d had, so he just wanted to get rid of it.

He shut off the phone, and jammed it into his pocket. He might as well watch the show anyway. His family would probably be interrogating him about what had happened during the intermission, and if he’d just said he’d been on his phone the whole show it’d probably grounds for another shouting ma--

His line of thought was cut off by the feeling of another pop, the sound of bones cracking again - and his sleeve feeling tighter. Garrett looked up from the phone, and stared at the stage again, not wanting to look at what was happening. The show was still going on - the fat girl was now whining to a fat guy in drag, begging to audition for something. He tried to focus really hard on the show, trying not to notice the feeling of the right sleeve of his hoodie getting tighter and tighter. Now it wasn’t just on the sleeve, it was all along the arm it was getting tighter. It felt like his hoodie was starting to struggle holding his arm. No! Don’t think about it! It’s not...it’s not happening. Just pay attention to the show. What was happening? The fat girl, Tracy, she wanted to be on some dancing show. Her accent was pretty okay, actually, although it seemed like the guy in drag wasn’t even trying. Maybe it was part of the joke.

There was a loud rip, and Garrett felt the sleeve of his hoodie come apart over his wrist. He looked down without thinking, and nearly screamed.

It was happening to his arms now! His wrist had caught up to his clenched fist, becoming appropriately thicker to support it, but the real change was in his forearm. The ripped sleeve had ridden up exposing it a little bit of the arm - and it was a lot bigger. His forearm had pumped up with frankly terrifying muscle, once again, practically double the size that it had been before. He could see veins pushing against the skin, and judging by the way his hoodie was outlining the rest of his arm, his skin was struggling to hold the sudden growth of muscle in.

Garrett ran his eyes up his arm, and finally saw what was happening that he had been taking so much effort to ignore. He’d been holding his arms close to his body, but that was becoming harder and harder, as his tricep began pumping up too, his hoodie getting tighter around his shoulder. He could feel it practically pulsing, racing to catch up with the rest of his arm, as the muscles beneath the skin tore up and reformed, quickly becoming stronger with every minute that passed. It was a slow process, but it was one that Garrett was finding it a little difficult to look away from.

Hallucination. Trick of the light. It was dark in the theater, he couldn’t see properly. He must just be making a mistake. Nevermind the fact he could physically feel his arm pumping up, the shoulder of his hoodie practically ready to explode, unable to contain what was growing beneath it. Nevermind facts, full stop. Garrett was firmly in “deny reality” mode, even as his sense of reality was being challenged. He tore his eyes away and looked rigidly at the stage again. Just focus on the show. What was happening now? Tracy was, fawning over some young, attractive dancer whose name Garrett had missed - was it something with an L? Lance? Larry? No, with a face like that it was something more snappy.

“Link Larkin,” Tracy said. “So near, yet so gorgeous.” Link, that was it. Garrett was surprised his guess was that close, given that he had never given a shit about a musical before now. The actor playing Link bumped into Tracy, and Tracy practically immediately launched into a slowly rising ballad about bells and marriage and dating. Garrett tried to force himself to enjoy the song, although he was having a little difficulty - melody was nice enough but...god, it was so sappy and sugary. If he wasn’t having a spontaneous growth he was desperately trying to ignore, he’d be gagging.

But before he could think much more about how he felt about the song (and a stray thought about why no-one had done a death metal musical - man, that would actually rock), his train of thought was once again interrupted as he felt a searing pain blast through his shoulder, like someone had stabbed a spear through it. His entire upper body felt scorching hot. The pain was going right behind his right shoulder blade, and all over his chest. He leant forwards, and looked down, as the feeling of warmth spread across to encompass his entire chest...then it too started growing.

Garrett leaned back, his breaths short and sharp, as his chest began to inflate before his eyes. The same feeling of muscle tearing up and reforming, becoming stronger every time was repeating, only it was across the breast of his body. He’d never worked out, and his chest had been flat, almost a little fat, but that fat was definitely gone now, as it was pushing out into bold, muscular pectorals. The zip of his hoodie came down, unzipping to reveal the white shirt he’d been wearing underneath, which was getting stretched just as much as the sleeve of his hoodie - he was surprised neither had torn completely. There was, however, a slight tear that was growing larger, as the collar of the shirt opened up to accommodate his gigantic pecs. The hoodie zip was pulled down by unseen force, until it was resting just beneath his chest.

The tear that had opened up his shirt exposed the pecs to the air of the theater slightly - it was hardly risqué, but Garrett rarely ever showed this much skin, even in summer, and he felt exposed regardless. He was just glad no-one was in a position to see what was happening to him. He looked down at his chest - he couldn’t even see his lower body over the shelf he’d gained. If this was really happening, he had pecs that even someone like Kurt Angle might be jealous of. He slowly raised his right hand, forgetting for the moment what had happened to it, and reached up to feel one of the melons he’d just grown.

“Hooohhllyy fuuuhuuuck…” Garrett let out raggedly, trying very hard not to moan too loud. It was...so sensitive. He’d barely rubbed his thumb over his nipple, which he could feel pushing hard against his shirt, and a rush of heat had run straight to his groin. He could feel his pants straining a little bit, his cock getting stiffer already. He was half lustful, half embarrassed. Why was he so horny all of a sudden? Then he squeezed the pec with his thick hand, and he was immediately at full attention. As fast as possible, he slammed his hand back onto the armrest. He felt like he was going to explode if he played with his chest anymore.

It wasn’t real. God, it felt real though. Maybe it was a dream? Was he dreaming? He must be, this...this didn’t happen in real life. People didn’t just grow muscles out of nowhere. They might in something like Captain America, but they didn’t in the real world...and even then, in Captain America, Steve Rogers was going through some kind of experimental procedure, so it made sense. As far as Garrett could tell, he’d just walked into this balcony booth and then his right arm and chest had exploded with muscle. It didn’t make any sense. It had to be a dream, or something.

Just focus on the show. Just focus on the show. It’s not real, whatever this is isn’t actually happening. Tracy was surrounded by a group of African-American kids, who were teaching her to dance. “Not bad for a white girl,” one of them said.

The one who was standing with Tracy (Seaweed was his name, Garrett’s mind told him, even though he hadn’t actually been paying to when the character had been introduced) turned and responded to the other guy. “There ain’t no black and white up in here. Detention is a rainbow experience.” He did a little shuffle and step.

“What’s that step?” Tracy asked.

“Oh, this?” Seaweed replied. “I call this one ‘Peyton Place After Midnight’. I use it to attract the opposite sex.” The audience laughed at the joke, and Garrett found himself laughing with them. It was corny, which he usually hated, but it felt earnest, and he could appreciate that to some extent. He tried not to think too hard about how he must look like some sort of half-muscled freak, or how he could swear his collar was simultaneously getting wider and rising up, as his neck muscles were getting thicker. He tried to pretend he couldn’t feel the process that had happened along his right arm happening in reverse along his left arm - the shoulder bulging in size, the biceps and triceps pulsing outwards, his left hand seizing up like his right had earlier, as the forearm doubled in size, and the palm of his hand became broader, thicker, digits growing, knuckles popping.

It wasn’t...happening...it was...definitely not happening, at all, and it was just a dream, even if it felt incredibly real and...felt…

...good…

Because that was how it felt. If he looked past all the fear, and the worry, and the flat-out denial, what was happening to him felt...really good. It was a feeling that had been niggling in his mind since he had groped his pec before and immediately popped a boner. If he let it, he felt like he would be...intoxicated by how good his new muscles felt. His nipples rubbed against his shirt, keeping him semi-hard even as he had tried to calm himself down.

But at his core, Garrett was still a nervous, if bratty kid, kept in an extended adolescence by his refusal to grow up - and so the fear and denial and worry was overpowering the lust by a good measure. He kept his hands tightly gripping the armrest, his overly muscular arms hewing close to his body as he could manage, and he stared straight at the stage, just trying to focus on the show and the songs. And to his surprise, that particular element seemed to be getting easier and easier. A good while earlier, he would’ve been faking gagging noises and probably trying to heckle the cast, but he’d been distracted by the growth...and in his eagerness to ignore that growth, he’d found himself beginning to be wrapped up by the show.

He was genuinely appreciating the poppy tunes now, as Tracy’s mother Edna got a makeover to a melody about embracing the present day. He tried to breathe slower, calming himself down, as he tried not to notice how he could feel his back growing with more muscle, his deltoids and the muscles around his shoulder blades packing on the strength. As Tracy and Amber got into a spat over dodgeball, and Penny and Seaweed found a connection, hampered by their parents narrow-minded views, Garrett was genuinely beginning to feel touched by the themes - and his spine made a couple of uncomfortable pops, as it extended, and the young man began to grow in height as well as muscle, jumping spontaneously up to 6 feet tall.

And as Tracy rallied the kids at the record shop to protest the segregation of the Corny Collins Show, and it all turned to tragedy as Velma called the police, the protest was broken up, and Tracy and all her friends were sent to jail, Garrett felt genuine disbelief and concern for the characters. He didn’t know how it had happened, but this show had taken him, and he didn’t even know its name.

“We’re here to dance!” Seaweed yelled.

“We’re here to stay!” Edna followed up.

Link turned to Tracy. “Tracy, this was beautiful.” He said, and Garrett could feel the love between them finally sparking, the dream man Tracy had wanted all this time.

“Big, blonde, and beautiful lead the way!” Motormouth Maybelle belted out, the most incredible singing voice Garrett had heard in ages.

“No-one’s getting on TV today!” The whole cast sang in ensemble, and the song ended. The audience burst into applause, and Garrett found himself clapping along with them, his larger hands making his claps even louder, making his own ears ring a bit. He smiled. This show was great! Why had he never taken musicals seriously?

And then the curtain was lowering, and the lights were going up, and Garrett’s clapping slowed as he wondered what was happening. They were ending on a cliffhanger? What?

No, no, wait. It was the intermission. Oh, fuck. It was the intermission. He looked down at himself, at his body in the new light, unable to see his lower torso over his pecs. The show would be back, but like it or not, Garrett was going to have to deal with a reality he couldn’t deny - and how the hell he was going to explain it to his family.

Intermission

As Garrett left the booth, his first thought was to get a look at himself. He needed to get in front of a mirror, see what had happened to himself, because he was hardly able to tell. He had tried very, very hard to ignore everything that had been happening to himself. All he could really see of himself was his arms and chest, and he had no idea if anything else had happened. He headed back out towards the lobby, hoping to find a bathroom, trying to go as fast as he possibly could, which was something of a difficult feat, unused to his new muscles as he was. Every article of clothing on him felt tight, restricting him. He was surprised his grey hoodie hadn’t been torn to shreds, given how much more of him it had to cover; it felt like if he were to flex, the whole thing would burst off him, including his shirt.

He re-entered the lobby, where other audience members were congregating. He scanned the room - easier than before, thanks to his increased height - looking for a bathroom, somewhere he could get a good look at himself. He spotted the sign, and began making his way towards it. The lobby was packed with people, and Garrett struggled to get around them.

“‘Scuse me...sorry...just need to...get through…” Garrett mumbled apologies as he crossed the lobby floor, and people were willing to give him a wide berth, but the lobby was so packed it was hard for him to make his way through. He could’ve easily just shoved past them, especially with what he’d gained, but...well, he’d just be making a scene, being so rude. As a result, he was only about a quarter of a way towards his destination when he heard the familiar voice of his sister.

“Garrett! Over here!” Garrett turned, and saw Katherine waving at him. He looked anxiously towards the sign over the bathroom, then back at Katherine. She was smiling and beckoning to him - Garrett wondered how she’d even recognized him, but she didn’t seem to have any kind of reaction the fact that he’d gained a whole bunch of muscle over the course of the last hour or so. He really needed to take a look at what had happened to him, but...she was...like, his sister. He changed direction, making his way over to her.

“Everyone’s in the restaurant, it’s too crowded out here.” Katherine said as Garrett came over. She took his larger hand in her own and began to lead him towards the restaurant. She didn’t seem to have anything to say about the fact that his hand was practically twice her size - she was more interested in talking about the show. “Did you enjoy it? It’s amazing so far.”

“Uh, yeah...it was...good.” Garrett was at a loss for words. Had she not noticed what had happened to him? They walked into the restaurant part of the theater, and Katherine lead Garrett over to a corner seat where the rest of his family was waiting. He could maybe Katherine’s ignorance down to being something of an airhead, but surely they’d have to notice...but no, as they came over, all that happened was his family smiling like nothing was wrong.

“Garrett!” his mom said excitedly. “You enjoying your special seat? The show’s been so good so far!” Garrett looked down at his family, quiet for a moment, expecting someone to say something. Barry must have at least some comment about his changed body, but they just sat, expectantly awaiting his answer.

“Uh...it’s...good.” He said slowly.

“Well, come on, pull up a seat”, his dad said. “Though I dunno if you’ll fit on the bench with us!”, he said, laughing at his own joke. The others giggled along. Was that a comment about his growth? But...he was saying it like it was just something normal. Like he hadn’t been about a foot shorter the last time they’d seen him. Garrett looked behind him, and grabbed an empty chair from a nearby table, pulling it over and sitting at the table. He felt awkward.

“So, good is all you have to say?” Katherine asked. “Come on, you gotta have something more than that, Garrert.”

“We...I mean, I guess...what did you just say?” Garrett responded. He felt his shirt shift a little underneath his hoodie, but he paid it little mind.

Katherine looked at him, a little bemused. “Uhh...I said your name?”

“Yeah, but...you said it weird.”

“Uh...Garrert. Seems about right to me. Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, Garrert”, Barry followed up, “You seem kinda off. Everything alright?”

“I…” Garrett was a loss. Was some sort of joke being played on him? He didn’t know whether to push the issue or not. For the moment, he decided against it, because he was realizing he did have a bit more to say about the show than just ‘good’.

“No, uh, I’m fine. But, yeah, the...the show. Yeah, I didn’t think I’d like it, but uh...I mean. You, you know how I am, right?” Garrett said. “Not a big fan of all that...poppy stuff.”

“Are you kidding me, Garrert?” Katherine said, skeptically. “You don’t have to pretend around us, you know that.”

“What?” Garrert replied. He nervously fiddled with his jeans absentmindedly - jeans that were starting to become darker as he did so.

“We all know you love this kind of thing.” Barry smirked.

“Wha...what are you talking about?”

“Are you sure you’re okay, honey?” his mum asked. “Did you forget? It was your idea to bring us here.”

Garrert’s head felt fuzzy, and he put a thickened hand to his temple. “No...I...hate this kind of thing, why would I…” Did he hate this? He’d enjoyed the show, but...he could’ve sworn he couldn’t stand show tunes or anything like that. He liked harder stuff, like...like...like what? He’d listened to metal bands, hadn’t he? But he couldn’t remember any of their names, or any of their songs. He stood up, feeling a little like he was about faint. “I...I think I need to go to the bathroom for a minute.” he said.

“You want me to come with, Garpert?” his dad said. “You’re lookin’ kinda pale there.”

Garrert leant on the chair for support. “No, I...what?”

“Huh?”

“You said my name wrong.”

“Garpert, I would be the last person to say your name wrong. I should come with you.” he stood up to help him.

Garrert pushed himself away from the table, stumbling a bit. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ll be fine, Steven. Just need a moment to myself.” He coughed, clearing his throat. “Go...go enjoy the show, it’ll be starting up in a minute again.” His voice sounded croaky. He tried to clear his throat again.

“Well...if you’re sure.” his dad said, and looked back at his mum. She looked up at him, a look of concern on her face.

“Let us know if it’s something serious, Garpert.” she said.

“It’ll be fine.” Garrert said, stumbling away. He looked around the restaurant - there was a bathroom in here too, closer than the one in the lobby. He made his way inside. his head spinning, and made it into the men’s room.

The room was sparkling clean, as it should be. Garpert made his way over to a sink, and started running the cold water. He splashed some on his face, and looked up in the mirror.

“...oh my.” he croaked out.

His perspective, being unable, unwilling to properly take a look at himself in the booth had meant he hadn’t really taken in how much he’d changed. He really looked like some kind of bodybuilder. Or, kind of did. His arms were big and pumped, up and so was his chest and his neck, and his torso a bit too, but it was like he was...half done. He was undeniably bigger in almost every part of his body, but it was like his lower half hadn’t quite caught up to his top half just yet.

And for another thing, his clothes looked different. Not...hugely, but he could’ve sworn this hoodie was more of a light grey when he’d put it on this morning. It was darker, slate grey colour now, and it looked kind of comical as it struggled to stay on him. His jeans were darker too - they’d been a light blue earlier, now they were a deeper darker blue, and...had he put on a belt this morning? He didn’t remember doing so, but there was one there - a black leather belt, that looked kind of out of place on the jeans.

He felt like there was something in his throat, and he coughed again - and it turned into a coughing fit. An almost violent hacking noise came out of his throat, as his neck muscles thickened further with each cough, until finally it came to a stop. He rubbed his neck, shocked by how bad that fit had been.

“Shit...what the bloody hell is happening to me?” he asked his reflection. It didn’t cross his mind that his voice had changed. It had gotten deeper, and had lost the low vowels associated with his home in Massachusetts. It was clearer, plummier, hewing closing to Britain than Boston. But Garpert had different problems on his mind, as he thought over the conversation he’d just had with his family - in particular, the end, when he’d been telling his father he’d be okay.

He’d said Steven. He’d called his father by his first name. He’d never done that before, but it had just slipped out as naturally as he might call Katherine or Barry by their names. Steven hadn’t seemed to have a problem with it...but...why would he? Why was Garpert worrying about this kind of thing?

He looked down at his wrist, where his hoodie had split open around the sleeve, but nothing was there. He raised an eyebrow. It felt like something should be there. He rubbed his wrist, and dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out his phone, not noticing that the screen had fixed itself while in his pocket. He checked the time.

“Oh, shit, the second act!” he cried. He was running late. He stuffed the phone back in his pocket and checked himself in the mirror, and pulled his hair back, trying to smooth it down. Streaks of grey followed behind where he touched his hair with his fingers, the brown colour draining from it completely, while the longer strands of hair fell off his head, although this didn’t seem to concern him a whole lot. He gave himself a little grin, and headed out of the bathroom.

Rushing quickly through the restaurant, he noticed that the Parsons had already left. It must be starting up again. He picked up the pace. He didn’t want to miss the rest of this show.

Act II

Edna and Wilbur were singing their duet as Garpert came back into the theater, settling back into his balcony seat. He didn’t know why, but he felt this strange sense of...release, or relief, or something. He couldn’t put his finger on why, but he felt like he’d been...stressed. Very stressed, or upset about something, but now he wasn’t. All he could think that was bothering him was that he’d missed the first scene, but it wasn’t like it was a big problem. He only had himself to blame for that - been too busy making sure he looked good.

He couldn’t seem to stop messing with his hair though, even though he wasn’t looking in a mirror any more. He wished he’d brought a comb of some sort, but his fingers would have to do, rough as they were. With every brush of his hands, his hair was losing its colour, and getting shorter. Some of the longer clumps of hair were simply falling off his head, rolling off his shoulders and falling to the floor by the chair, while other parts actually receded into his scalp. It was like he was giving himself a haircut with only his hands, but with the added change of his hair turning grey as he did so.

“Oh, come on, Garpert” he chastised himself quietly, stopping himself from adjusting his hair any further. “You look fine.” He set his hands down in his lap, determined to just enjoy the show as they moved onto the next scene, with Link coming to see Tracy in jail. He smiled warmly to himself as the pair began a duet, and the smile spread throughout his face - crow’s feet formed around his eyes, the corners of his mouth pushed into dimples as his cheeks filled out a little bit.

His clothes weren’t quite done changing, either. For the past half an hour or so, the shirt he wore underneath his hoodie had clung tightly to his chest, struggling to hold in his pecs, the collar having been ripped open already, but it was finally adjusting to suit Garpert’s changed needs. The fabric was losing some of its softness, as the cotton converted to polyester. The formerly ripped fabric was fixing itself, the torn edges folding back and becoming straight as little buttons bloomed out on the right side. The shirt continued to split down the middle, going all the way to the bottom, but buttons appeared out of nowhere to hold it together. Feeling constrained, he reached up and undid another button, exposing his pecs just a little bit more. He felt his cock harden in his jeans a little more at the thought of it. God, he really was the most, wasn’t he?

Meanwhile, the collar of the shirt was coming back up, reaching up around his neck, before it folded over into a formal collar, for a tie or bowtie. His hoodie wasn’t far behind in its own adjustments either. The grey colour continued to darken, becoming a solid black, while the zip continued its journey of rolling down by itself, before finally, the hoodie came apart. Now it was growing to fit him, his torn sleeves fixing themselves as the material became thinner. He felt a familiar weight, as a silver watch with a gold stripe down the middle of the band appeared on his right wrist. Meanwhile, a gold ring appeared on the ring finger of his left hand.

The teeth of the zip sunk into the hoodie, disappearing, and to replace them, two shiny black buttons appeared in their stead, on the lower part of the hoodie. The upper part, however, was folding over on itself, becoming the lapels of a suit jacket. The hood part of the hoodie shrunk away, getting tighter around Garpert’s neck, melding with the lapels to become the collar, and within moments, it was like he’d never been wearing a hoodie in the first place. It was, and always had been, a tailored suit jacket. It wasn’t quite tailored to fit him, being slightly too large, but there was no need to worry about that, since he was going to be fitting into it shortly.

As his shirt and jacket finished forming, his abs finally began to catch up to the rest of his body. The little bit of puppy fat he had before was sticking around, although he was starting to gain some serious muscle under there, a good 20 years worth of crunches and stretches making for some hardened abdominal muscles. But the fat was gaining a bit too - not too much, but it was beginning to look like he hadn’t been quite as strict about whatever exercising regime as he should have been to get those abs. His stomach was pushing out into a ball gut to compliment his pecs. A rock hard gut, one with muscle behind it, certainly, but he could doing a bit more to be trim.

Garpert ran a hand over his gut, and smiled a little to himself once more. It may not be strictly good for him, but he did quite like how it looked on him in the mirror. Plus, there was a certain appeal in the contrast. He scratched his head, a few more hairs receding and turning grey, as his hairstyle became a buzzcut, a far-cry from the shoulder length, uncombed hair he’d had before. Wait a minute. What did he mean by contrast?

The thought of contrast had come to him automatically, but now he actually considered it, he wasn’t sure what he meant by that. Contrast with what? With whom? His head buzzed again, and he began to feel dizzy like he did in the restaurant. He felt like he was forgetting something, something very important. Contrast...contrast…shit, maybe he should have let Steven help him. He clearly wasn’t well. Today of all days, after all the effort they’d gone to to get them seats, and now he was...what?

What was happening? He hadn’t...put anything into this process, had he? He was pretty sure he couldn’t have cared less about this whole thing, but now...now there was this distinct memory of looking at a computer screen, selecting seats in the theater. Special seats, for Steven Parsons, and his wife, Amelia, and their kids as well. Katherine, Barry, and...oh, fuck. Didn’t they have another kid? They must have, because he remembered...he remembered there weren’t enough seats when they got here. Amelia had gotten into a tizz about it. He wouldn’t forget that kind of thing, she always had a habit of making a scene, that was why they’d...they’d what?

As Garpert had a silent mental breakdown, his body was building up, the changes not slowed as the show went on. His spine made a few more pops, getting him a few inches higher, and that height was increased as his gluteal muscles started to swell, and his hips widened, better suited to supporting his rotund belly. His butt had been nothing to write home about before, but now it was becoming rounder, more like a proper booty. Garpert rested his buzzing head in his right hand, as he reached down with his left, feeling his growing buttocks. It was like with his pecs again, as after a couple of strokes, he felt himself getting harder once more. But that wasn’t all it was doing. As his cock strained against his pants - pants that were converting from denim to polyester, turning black - it was, impossibly growing in length. It had been below average before, something of a private point of perturbation for him, but now it was snaking down his left pant leg, reaching down along his thighs. Garpert got the feeling his body was telling him he needed something, and he was finding it hard to deny.

He thought about the embarrassment if anyone were to catch him doing something so crude...and it only seemed to make things worse, as his legs thickened with muscle, beginning to ache, like he’d been running a marathon. God, he shouldn’t, it would only confirm Jeremiah’s jokes about being obsessed with himself. But his head was hurting so bad, and for some reason, he had this inescapable feeling, that all he needed was to indulge this base pleasure, and things would be okay. It wasn’t like anyone could see him. All he had to do was keep a straight face.

He felt a little bad about doing this during “I Know Where I’ve Been”, Motormouth Maybelle’s soulful gospel-esque tune - it was one of the replacement actresses tonight, and she had a powerful voice - but Garpert needed this. Besides, no-one had to know. He reached down to his fly, the gold metal button changing to a black plastic one as he undid it, and pulled down the zip. Fishing into his white briefs (hadn’t he put on boxers today?), he pulled out the lengthy shaft, enjoying the feeling of his foreskin. It was bizarre, it felt like a completely new sensation, but he didn’t know why that would be. They didn’t do circumcisions in England unless you were Jewish, so why would he think he was...oh for god’s sake, his head was already buzzing enough without him getting confused over his own cock. Just indulge.

He started slow, leaning back in his chair, slowly pumping with his right as he raised his left up, as far as he could manage without it being immediately obvious what he was doing, and rubbed his thumb over the part of his jacket under which his nipple rested.

“Oh my”, he breathed out huskily. It was electric, the feeling it gave him, and he felt his cock twitch a little as it grew a little bit longer, even as it was clasped in his paw of a hand. The physical impossibility of everything that had happened to him and was still happening to him did not seem to concern Garpert a whole lot. Instead, he reached back down, and pulled his testicles free from his briefs, letting them feel the air. He smiled to himself as he felt their size - big as oranges, Jeremiah had said before, although Garpert thought that was a bit of an over-estimation.

And despite it making no real medical sense at all, it seemed like Garpert’s intuition about getting himself off relieving his stress was coming true. His head was starting to ache less, but maybe that was because it was reforming. His soft jaw was hardening, becoming larger, the bones pushing out as it became firmly square set, a much more masculine jawline than he’d ever had before. His skin was wrinkling, becoming older, a bit tougher, as the tone of his pale skin began to darken, becoming fuller, turning to a sunkissed bronze, the kind of tan you only got if you spent a couple of weeks in the Canary Islands. That had been an amazing holiday. The first he’d taken with Jerry.

He moaned quietly, audible only to himself - a repressed childhood meant that Garpert had perfected the art of silent masturbation, and even when he was in the throes of something more passionate, he was never particularly loud. He brought his free hand up to the left side of his face, and stroked his fingers along his chin - and as he did, little grey hairs sprung out of his jawline, forming a tight, well groomed beard. He split his fingers up, one running over his upper lip, and the hairs followed behind, creating a goatee to compliment the beard that flowed up the right side of his chin. He brought his hand back down, running it over his chest once more, down his open shirt, popping another button open. Like with his chin, where his hand had touched, a furry carpet of silver hairs was spreading across his chest now, as his pecs pumped out just a little bit more.

Everything about Garpert’s face was becoming more and more masculine, his brow furrowing, his nose becoming longer, and a little bit bigger on his face. He blinked a couple of times, and his brown eyes were suddenly pear green, the thing that Jerry had said had attracted him in the first place. He was pumping faster now, making little noises to himself. He knew in a couple of seconds it would be over. He kind of wanted to draw it out a bit more, but he couldn’t just jerk off for the rest of the show. He could feel it coming up, his balls churned, his cock tensed up--

As quick as he could, Gupert brought his free hand down and covered his pulsing cock with both hands, as he involuntarily let out quite a loud moan; not loud enough to be heard over the music, but certainly loud for him. It felt like he hadn’t done this in ages - he could feel cum hitting the palms of his hands, but it just kept going, some of it squeezing between his fingers and hitting the floor. He was too caught up in the lust to be worried about it, but it felt like the longest, most pleasurable orgasm he’d ever had in his life. His eyes rolled backwards as more ropes of cum spurted between his fingers, his hands almost completely coated in the stuff. Unable to hold it in, he opened up his hands, his right lazily stroking his pulsing shaft, as a couple of other shots of pearly white cum shot up into the air, before falling back and landing on his suit and shirt. After another couple of seconds, Gupert was left with his cock dribbling cum onto the floor, and himself leaned back in the chair, breathing heavily.

The buzzing was gone, and Gupert was coming back to his senses...and realizing what exactly it was he’d just done.

“Oh...bollocks.” he said to himself. Why had he done that? Now he was going to have to clean this up. If Jerry came up now he’d never hear the end of it. He raised his right hand. He wanted to get the packet of mini tissues he kept in his left breast pocket, to clean himself up, but his hand was soaked - he’d just get even more on his suit than there already was...there was only one course of action he could think of at the moment. He brought his hand close to his face, and began licking the cum off. It was crude, as was most of what he’d just done, but he couldn’t deny he enjoyed the taste of himself quite a bit. Jerry was right, he really was a narcissist.

It gave him time to catch up with the show at least. He’d been going at it for a bit. Amber was just getting to the end of her song about Tracy. Gupert smiled - the actress was doing an excellent job of making Amber perfectly hateable as she sang her childish song about Tracy having cooties. His hand was mostly clean now, and he reached into his pocket to grab the little packet of mini-tissues, already opened, like he’d used a few. He pulled some out, and began wiping himself down - first his left hand, then his genitals, and then his suit. He was going through quite a few tissues cleaning it all up. He looked down at the floor - yep, some down there too. He was glad he’d covered himself up at first, he might have ended up shooting over the balcony. He shuffled off the chair, using a couple of tissues to clean up what lay on the floor, before bunching the tissues. The balcony thankfully had a little bin installed - Gupert had requested it - so he dumped the whole thing in there, before settling back into his chair.

Ah, at least he was in time for the finale. It was the best part of the show. Tracy was coming in, interrupting Amber’s set.

“Right on schedule!” Corny yelled, showboating perfectly. “I mean, uh, I know nothing about this complex plan. Ladies and gentleman, I give you the never to be counted out Tracy Turnblad!”

The music struck up, and Gupert was already tapping his feet, smiling again as he got back into the show. There were so many good songs in this musical, but for Gupert’s money, “You Can’t Stop the Beat” was the undoubtable champion of them all. As he tapped his feet to the beat of the music, and it swelled as the musical headed towards its climax, the converse trainers on his feet were finally changing to match the suit that adorned his muscular body. His feet were growing in them, becoming longer and wider, and the trainers were increasing in size to match. The light blue colour deepened as the long white laces began to wind back into themselves, shrinking both in length and width. They darkened too, becoming pure black, like his shoes were, the material hardening, becoming more rigid. The tongue of the shoe was receding as well, becoming shorter as it slid under where the laces bound the shoe up. The cuffs lowered, and the socks covering his became a more comfortable black cotton. Little dots marked the seams of the shoes, building into a floral-esque pattern. The trainers were long gone, leaving a pair of formal dress shoes in their place

The audience was clapping to the music now, and so was Rupert, doing a little dance in his seat as he sang along to the music - “‘Cause you can’t stop the motion of the ocean or the sun in the sky, you can wonder if you wanna but I never ask why” the words came to him naturally, like he’d known them all his life. Well, no, about a decade and a half of his life, really, the musical had only been made in 2002, but that hardly mattered - the music was moving through him, and he sang with his heart.

“‘Cause the world keeps spinnin’ round and round

And my heart’s keeping time to the speed of sound”

Rupert heard the door open behind him, but he didn’t care if anyone was watching. Now the Von Tussles were finally getting in on the dancing, as the rest of the cast convinced them, and the final chorus began.

“‘Cause you can’t stop the motion of the ocean, or the rain from above

They can try to stop the paradise we’re dreaming of

But they cannot stop the rhythm of two hearts in love to staaaayyy

‘Cause you can’t stop the beat!”

The song finished with a bang, and the audience burst into applause as the curtain fell, Rupert along with them.

“Enjoying yourself, hun?” a smooth, deep voice said from behind him, a voice he knew well, as someone else’s hand reached down over his shoulder and touched one of his pecs.

Rupert looked up to see the warm face of Jeremiah looking down at him, as the curtain came back up and the cast bowed to the audience. “Jerry! Where’ve you been?” he asked. “You missed the whole thing!”

“I had some things to take care of. Boring manager stuff.” Jeremiah said. “Besides, we’ve seen Hairspray a thousand times before, Rupert.”

“That doesn’t make it any less good.” Rupert said.

“True.” Jerry admitted. “That stuff's done with anyway. I’m pretty much free now.”

“Good, because I want you to come to dinner with the Parsons.” Rupert said. He stood up, his eyes coming up to Jerry’s neck. Rupert was tall, but Jerry was always taller - they made quite a pair anyway. This was the contrast he was talking about - Jerry had always kept strictly to his regular gym visits, pumping the iron daily, while Rupert had let himself swell a little, but neither of them minded too much. They looked cute together as far as they were concerned.

“I know, I know.” Jerry replied. “I’ve sorted everything out with the restaurant staff - that was the manager stuff if you really wanted to know.”

“I didn’t, but thanks anyway.” Rupert replied, and stood on his tip toes a little to give Jerry a kiss on the cheek. “I’m going to--” he was cut off from explaining whatever he was going to do by Jerry wrapping a muscular arm around Rupert’s back, taking the back of Rupert’s head in his other hand, and giving him a full kiss on the lips, the tongue poking through. Rupert was surprised at first, but gave into it, letting their tongues dance together, sliding over each other as they enjoyed it. There was a small feeling in the back of Rupert’s head - a feeling like he’d never done this before, or hadn’t done it in a while, or...what was he talking about? They did this every day. It was hardly new. They slowly pulled away, and Rupert let himself rest a little in Jerry’s arms. “What was that for?” he asked.

“Just felt like letting my husband know I loved him.” Jerry smiled. “Him and his sexy voice.”

“Are you still banging that drum? Whatever. He loves you too.” Rupert smiled back, and gave him another peck on the cheek. “I’m going to go meet up with the Parsons. Meet us in the restaurant?”

Jerry uncoiled his arms, letting Rupert go free. “Sure hun. See you in a minute.” He turned, as Rupert walked past him, leaving the little balcony seat. Left alone, he walked over to the edge of the balcony, and looked down at the audience, spotting the American family he’d barely known a couple of hours ago leaving their seats, talking with each other excitedly. He smiled to himself. The whole thing had turned out better than he’d expected.

Epilogue

“Oh Jerry, it’s hardly a new thing.” Steven was saying. “Even back when we was working over in Boston, Rupert couldn’t stop lookin’ at himself.”

“I did always say Culture Beat was talking about me when they wrote Mr. Vain.” Rupert said, and the table laughed good-naturedly - he’d made the joke a hundred times before, but they were all old friends by this point. Repeating a joke, a story or two, was forgivable.

“So”, Katherine said, as the group stopped laughing. “What’s up after Hairspray?” she asked.

“Oh, well, we’ll be doing Hairspray for a couple more weeks”, Rupert began, “then Kinky Boots next. We haven’t quite decided on what’ll be after that, I do need to talk to the directors about it. I’ve heard whispers that they want to do something original next, which is an exciting prospect, but that’s...ooh, that’s a long time off if it���s true.”

“We’ll be wanting to take a holiday of our own before that.” Jerry added. “We’ve all been working hard.” The Parsons nodded along with the sentiment, agreeing. As Amelia began launching into a list of places she’d like to go visit, Jerry sat back, watching Rupert smile and nod along as he listened.

It had been an unexpected outcome, to say the least. He’d only done this kind of thing twice before, and both times, those involved had gone on to lead very separate lives, so when he’d seen his own surname appear on the door, it had been a shock. He didn’t know what it was that had decided he should have a husband, but now he had one, and he found he couldn’t be happier. Perhaps he should feel some guilt - he’d essentially stolen a son from their family, but they seemed so much happier for it. He had been able to tell from the moment he saw them that the  young man from before had been something of a stain on their lives - rude, hateful, and a disappointment all around. They had been making a desperate, last ditch attempt to connect to the boy, and Jerry had wanted to help, in his own way. He just hadn’t expected it to help in quite the way it had, but he found that he didn’t mind. He knew that was part of the trick, but he didn’t care.

And Rupert, for his part, seemed so much happier too. Gone was the uncouth, American boy, and in his place was a polite, older but still handsome man, as English as English could be. It was a gain, for everyone. A great friend, a loving husband, a good man, loved by many. It was funny, really. All you needed to do was learn to appreciate the finer things in life, and the world seemed so much brighter.

[ewutai]

32 w taeyong please hehehe

What you don’t see| TAEYONG

prompt: “Keep your eyes on me”

genre: magician!au | sort of detective!reader | completely fluff & bit mysterious

pairing: Lee Taeyong / Reader

word count:  1 700

a/n: ahhhh i don’t know how good it is not even if it is good at all. Also there may be some grammatical faults, so I apologize in advance. Nevertheless, I hope you like it!

ask + drabble list + recommended listening

As expected, it was a shed. Allyou heard inside the Police Department was indeedhappening: seaport, hangar, cargo truck – and in your point of view, it was adisaster. You and your partner were both waiting for something to happen;someone to appear, a bomb to explode or actually any movement, anywhere around.

“They’re coming.” An impatientand nervous voice echoed; you sighed.

“They’re not, because they are not stupid.” You shrugged. “We are.”

The man by your side gazed youand closed his eyes in annoyance. His body was tense; he kept shaking his legsand tapping his fingers onto the steering wheel. You wondered how he became adetective if he could not control his own emotions.

He looked at you; an expressionyou weren’t able to understand. “In whose side are you, anyway?”

You snorted. “I have no sides,mate.” Your fingers englobed the car’s door knob and you opened it withouthesitating. “If you are the kind of cop who just sit and wait, then you shouldbuy some donuts. I am in.”

He scoffed. “You are not a captain,princess.”

You smirked. “Does it stop mefrom taking the right move?”

The other officer only watched,with disbelief, while you slowly reached the enormous gate of the storagebuilding. You seemed small and fragile and he even thought of following you,but the man knew – very deep inside his mind – that you were too much brave tobe scared so easily. You touched the metal and with all strength you had youpushed it, making the door open.

It was dark and you felt likediving into a black hole; as soon as you entered the shed, the gate closedbehind you, somehow being locked. There was no one else but you close to the metaldoor, even so it shut. Your heart started pounding faster and faster and youknew this was the drop of fear growing inside you. They managed to take you offof your comfort zone, how clever. Thedark, the excruciating ambient, the smell of dust and saltwater fish made yousweat and nauseous. They’re smarter then you thought.

However, you expected all of it.All Police Departments of the district moved their forces to capture these thieves, and you knew it wasn’t just thieves. They’re all criminals, intelligent and well-instructedcriminals. You noticed, when you first held the portfolio with the robberyinformation, that these people were the modern Robbin Hood; the profile wasbasic, easy to discern from any other small bandit and even a young cop likeyou could understand perfectly their intentions. The mystery, though, was the patternof their actions. Their acts seemed random and avulse, involving magic tricksand distractions in public spaces, not even forming any sort of line orunderstanding. It was totally irregular from one presentation to another and,in the end the only match between those spectacles was the Grand Finale.

So it was obvious they’d not movewithout contemplating all options.They were astute, you knew. They’d always be one step ahead, you admitted. And you already expected all of it.

Your thoughts were cut off with alight passing through your vision, causing your eyes to excessively blink. Ittook seconds for you to recover from the blur that arise on your eyesight, andlittle less time to feel the emptiness on your hand.

“What the hec–”

“Are you looking for these,Detective?” You turned your body to find the speaker, but they’re nowhere to beseen. “Over here.” Instinctively you followed the sound of the voice and founda boy sitting on top of the rail, upstairs. You narrowed your eyes; he washolding your gun and your flashlight –but it was almost impossible, considering the distance between you two and thetime he’d take to climb up the stairs.

You grinned. “The light.” Youtouched the back of your neck and laughed; you did not see, as you were toofocused on your thoughts, but the boy smiled back at you.

“You are intelligent, Detective.”He said and opened his arms. “All about distracting you with lights.” Thepastel pink haired boy threw himself of from where he was, but he did not fall.Actually he appeared ten feet away from you. “Here.” He handed you the gun. “I’llkeep the light, because it’s” he turned his body in 360 degrees and then facedyou again “dark.”

You had your mouth open. “Unbelievable.”

“Hum, actually it’s pure illusion.” Heshrugged his shoulders. “But I guess you already knew that.” The boy smiled.

Lazily you came back to yoursenses and raised the gun directly to his face. “I’d say you are not as good asyour friends.”

He laughed; the sound completelyvelvety and addicting. “I’ll count!” He threw the lantern up. “One,” the boysmiled at you “two,” he looked up to see the object coming to his direction “andthree!” He ran to you and you panicked; the feeling of losing control leadingyou to shoot. But the bullet didn’t reach him.

You smirked when you saw theflashlight perfectly positioned on the ground, with all the pieces in the rightplace, and in the tip of your gun a small flag written ‘got ya!’ It wasannoying, because you underestimate that boy’s talent of entertainment.

“Surprise.” He whispered behindyou. “Now, another one for you, Detective.”  The boy hugged you from behind; in vain youtried to escape, like all you’ve learned for combat was useless in that situation.He lifted you up and spun your bodies; you felt dizzy, your sensibilitydispersing within the cold air that gently touched your skin. You closed youreyes, trying to control yourself from disgorging.

“Stop!” You yelled; your eyesstill closed.

At that point you didn’t feelanything else but anxiousness. You wondered what would come next; would he justkill you? Would he just disappear?The sentiment of defeat was crystal clear, you rendered yourself in the momentyou entered the hangar.

“Fuck.” You finally had thecourage to look around again. Strangely, the space was filled with light andyou could easily see every corner of it. You saw two or three motorboat,fishing equipment and some sailcloth. You were completely insane, that’s it. No possible reason could explain what justhappened to you if not you being completelyout of your mind. As a plus, the boy just vanished, which meant you wereimagining it all. He was never there; were you somehow dopey?

You crossed your arms, and onlythen you realized you had more clothes on than before. A green aviator jacketsurrounded your torso and your arms; it smelled like cinnamon and was oddlycomfortable. Also, you noticed that the wind stopped blowing and there were nomore cool breeze hitting your cheeks.

“Are you startled, detective?” Thevoice inundated your ears.

You sighed. “This is gettingexhausting.” You took off the jacket and threw it on the ground.

“Hey!” Suddenly the pink hairedboy appeared; his voice tone was grave, but his expression was soft. “This isexpensive.”

“I bet you stole.” You scoff,almost whispering the comment.

He laughed. “Not all we do isstealing, Detective.”

“Ah, I bet.”

The boy tilted his head. “We makemagic too.” He smiled. “Keep your eyes on me.” He clapped his hands and you,all of sudden, couldn’t move.

It was not because you wanted to stay where you were, but onspur of moment the sound of his palms clashing with one another made youfreeze. You felt hypnotized and peculiarly relaxed; your mind went blank andall you could see was the boy in front of you. He was the only thing for you inthat exact moment – and, oh, how you felt disturbed.

He blinked. “You’re tired.” Hisvoice was melodic. “You’re really, really tired.” And your body seemed to beheavier. “You’re going to sleep now.” His hands touched your eyelids and hekindly closed your eyes.

“Your name. I want you name.” Youmanaged to say; he laughed, amused. But before the boy could answer you,everything went silent and you simply fell asleep.

A loud sound woke you up. It wasa strong and constant knock on the colossal metal door; you didn’t stand up,though. All you felt was fatigue and the last thing you wanted was listening toyour partner’s complaints, because clearly it was him knocking.

You stared at the ceiling, wondering how youlet things get to the point they were. That was the moment when you noticed ared balloon floating in the air; then another one appeared – this time it’s ayellow one – and at sudden lots and lots of colored balloons emerged, moreoveryou could not tell where those things came from.

You abruptly jumped and stood upon your feet; looking around you saw it wasn’t a shed anymore. The space was filled with tiny plastic balls,simulating a huge ball pool. You slapped your forehead, as an act of rebuke.Thereupon, in your palm you sensed the texture of a paper; you had a post-it stuck on your face.  

Soo, you took if off of your headand admired the note with a clumsy handwriting. Instead of feeling angry youwere relieved. You ran your eyes overthe paper, trying to connect every letter and form phrases. In the end you read

If you’re awake, someone knocked. Sorry, Detective, you’re beautifulbut I have to follow some rules.

When someone tells you to ‘keep your eyes on them’don’t listen. And by the way, my name will be ourlittle secret. Won’t it, gorgeous?

It wasn’t obvious, but also wasn’ttoo much hidden. For you it was easy to decipher, and then you pondered if thatthe boy could be that reckless. He gave you his name and it was all you neededto progress with the investigation, but you knew – and also did him – that it’d bekept as a secret. He wasn’t careless; he knew how to play games. And it’s yourtime to move.

You laughed. “Lee Taeyong, huh?”

[teachingoutsidethebinary]

Star Spangled Man with a Cramp

Prompt request: can i request a story? where the reader is like steve’s little sister and they’re all just hanging out at tony’s pool and she’s talking with Bruce and then tony or someone (not bucky or steve) come up and grabs her and throws her into the pool? but as she’s going through the air into the pool she yells that she can’t swim (cuz she can’t) and bucky dives into save her because he refuses to let steve lose anyone else?

Characters: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark, Reader

Warnings: none 

A/N: Thank you so much for the prompt request!! Tags and requests are open. As always, thanks for reading!

Drabbles Masterlist

You sighed and pointed your sunglass-covered face toward the bright sun. It was an absolutely perfect day to be relaxing on a lounge chair in front of an olympic-sized pool. It made it even better when you got to use such a luxurious pool for free.

You squeaked as some cold water flicked against your warm skin. Pulling your sunglasses off your eyes, you gave Steve your best glare.

“Rude!” you exclaimed. You stuck your tongue out at him as he smirked and pulled off his shirt. You couldn’t help but grin at his choice of American flag swimwear.

“Now is that any way to talk to your older brother?” he asked before jumping in the pool.

“Older is right,” you muttered, leaning back against your chair.

Bucky snickered from the chair next to you as Steve surfaced as shook his head. “You know you love me!” Steve yelled as he began to swim laps. You merely shook your head in response.

A series of unfortunate events had led to your arrival at the Avengers Tower, and Steve was there for you from the very beginning. What started as a friendship had blossomed into a bond stronger than family. Tony liked to joke that your relationship with Steve rivaled his brotherhood with Bucky.

“You’re not swimming?” Bucky asked as he took off his own shirt and shoes.

You shook your head violently. “No way.” Swimming was not your forte at all. You preferred to lounge around and soak up the sun instead.

“Your loss,” Bucky said. He tied his hair up in a quick bun before diving in himself. His metal arm glinted under the water as he competed with Steve to see who could swim to the other end the fastest.

“Now what good is a pool if you don’t use it?” a voice asked from behind. You tilted your head back and found Tony staring down at you.

“I’m enjoying my view of the pool,” you replied coyly.

“Uh huh.” Tony ruffled your hair and you whined in protest.

“Leave my hair out of it!” you giggled, swatting his hand away.

Before he could make another snide comment, a shout caused you both to turn towards the pool. Steve was swimming lopsided, and his face was scrunched up in pain. He managed to make it to the wall and pull himself up. He laid on the concrete, clutching his leg.

“Argh!” he yelled, squeezing his aching muscle.

“Did Captain America seriously just get a cramp?!” Bucky yelled from the other end of the pool.

“Shut up!” he screamed back. He banged his head against the ground and sighed. “Mehhhhh,” he groaned. “This is the worst pain ever!”

You sighed. “Stop being so dramatic!” You got up and walked over to the whimpering super soldier.

As you knelt down to examine his calf muscle, you experienced a very strange sensation. The ground disappeared from under you as you were lifted into the air and tossed into the pool. Your jaw dropped open as the world seemed to fly by in slow motion.

“I can’t swim!” you screamed. At least, you think you screamed. Your ears were ringing so badly that you couldn’t tell if you actually screamed or if it was just in your head.

You hit the water with a huge splash and sunk to the bottom of the pool. You were so paralyzed by fear that you couldn’t make your muscles move to reach the surface. You were convinced you were going to drown at the bottom of Tony’s insanely expensive pool.

Just as you were saying goodbyes in your head, a pair of strong arms reached around you and began pulling you up. Fresh air never tasted so good, and you gasped desperately as the arms dragged you to the wall. You clung to a metal arm, and through the fog in your head you realized Bucky was your savior.

Steve reached out and yanked you up to the surface where you spluttered and coughed. “Y/N, are you okay? Are you okay?” He kept repeating the phrase as you took deep, shuddering breaths.

“I’m, I’m, I’m, f-f-fine,” you finally managed to get out.

“Y/N, I’m so-” Tony started. His face had lost all its color, and his eyes were as wide as saucers.

“Shut up!” Steve snapped. “She could have drowned, you idiot!”

You shook your head. “H-he did-didn’t know,” you coughed. “No water, okay?”

Tony nodded. “Okay,” he agreed. He held out his hand and helped you up. He guided you over to your lounge chair and wrapped a towel around you. Now that the initial shock had worn off, you planned on using this incident to your advantage for as long as possible.

“May I please have a glass of water?” you asked, giving Tony your best puppy dog eyes.

“Absolutely!” he exclaimed. He practically tossed your towel over your shivering form as he dashed into the Tower to fulfill your request.

Steve smirked and looked down at Bucky. “Thanks man,” he said gratefully, patting his best friend on the shoulder. “I appreciate you grabbing her.”

Bucky nodded. “I know how much she means to you,” he replied. He let out a soft sigh and looked Steve in the eye. “I just didn’t want you to lose anyone else.”

Steve’s breath hitched at Bucky’s statement. “I, uh…that, uh…” He trailed off and cleared his throat, tears pricking his eyes. “That, uh, means a lot, Buck.”

Bucky just grinned back.

“You two need to get a room.” Your voice cut through the air, and they both turned to you. The color had returned to your cheeks, and you shot both super soldiers a smile.

Steve smirked. “Shouldn’t you be recovering or something?”

“Here’s your water!” Tony shouted.

You dramatically leaned back and sighed. “Thanks, Tony,” you replied, weakly.

Bucky snickered. “Looks like she gets her dramatics from you,” he whispered.

Steve’s jaw dropped open. “I’m not dramatic!” he insisted.

“Uh huh, says the guy who got debilitated by a muscle spasm,” Bucky shot back.

“Excuse me?! That thing hurt!” Bucky backed away from the pool wall as Steve stood up.

“Captain America?” Bucky taunted. “More like the Star Spangled Man with a Cramp!”

“Why you-” Steve jumped in the pool and started chasing Bucky.

You rolled your eyes as you sipped your water. “Goofballs,” you giggled under your breath. But you couldn’t help but smile at your family.

You wouldn’t trade them for the world.

TAGS: @buckyappreciationsociety @iamwarrenspeace @theassetseyeliner @melconnor2007 @yknott81 @snapplejuice @sammnipple @fuckkoffcourtney @capttainamericaa @gab-pas-arm

[attractivemanusa-blog]

HOW TO TELL A GIRL YOU LIKE HER WITHOUT GETTING FRIEND ZONED

We all know how hard it is to master how to tell a girl you like her WITHOUT Getting Friend Zoned. They say that the biggest fear in the world is public speaking, I reckon the SECOND biggest is revealing how you feel about someone.

It’s like jumping out of a plane, hoping that the parachute will open and that you won’t crash and burn in case she rejects you!

So how can you guarantee that telling her you like her won’t have her running for the hills? Whilst I can’t give you a 100% guarantee she will feel the same , what I do want to do in this video  is show you strategically how you can start to reveal your feelings for her without scaring her away!

HOW TO TELL A GIRL YOU LIKE HER WITHOUT GETTING FRIEND ZONED!

I’m Renee Slansky for The Attractive Man and it’s my job as your coach to make you the most  confident and desirable man that you can be.

If you are currently dating a girl that you really like or maybe have been trying to get it across to that friend of yours that you keep hanging out with , that you really like her ….

Women can get cold feet just like you guys , and sometimes we get scared about our feelings or the possibility of a relationship because of our past experiences . So here are my tips to help you communicate your feelings to her in a way to minimize rejection and increase your chances of having those feelings reciprocated .

START TO TEST THE WATERS A LITTLE BY SENDING HINTS

The very first thing you need to do is gather as much information as you can about how she could possibly feel before you go all in. It’s like seeing how cold or deep the water is before diving into the pool!

Some basic ways to drop hints would be complimenting her in more specific detail eg :

“I think your eyes look beautiful today” , as opposed to “you look hot!” or “ I think your really great at that , you can tell your creativity is a strength , it makes you glow.”

Remember the little things she has mentioned and then do something about it! Ifs she mentioned that she never has time to eat a proper meal because of a stressful deadline , then send an Uber Eats meal to her house as a surprise

Start asking her about her future plans and include her in yours subtly with phrases like “we “ and “us”

After dropping hints , you want to  watch for her response. Does she pull away? Does she laugh compliments off or does she blush and return them? Does she change the subject when you start to talk more about the future ?

This will help give you an indication if she is on the same page or may need a little more time.  

Now before I jump into the next tip , I want you to scroll back up and hit that subscribe button , because by doing that you are investing into you and setting yourself up for a win in life and dating!

SHOW HER FIRST BEFORE YOU TELL HER

Actions will always speak louder than words and whilst women love to hear what you have to say , ultimately it’s what you do that will either win her over or not.  If you just up and tell her one day that you like or love her , but you don’t actually show it , chances are she will be doubtful , confused or just flat out reject you .

Now the easiest way you can do this without having to spend lots of money , buy 10 puppies or build a disney castle , is to simply learn what her love language is. Guys is you haven’t read Dr Gary Chapman’s book The 5 Love Languages , then stop , collaborate and listen. You need to , it will literally change everything you need to know about love and women.

Basically there are 5 ways in which we give and receive love , which are :

Acts of Service ( doing stuff for her ) Quality time ( spending time with her and being present and not on your phone ) Physical Touch ( affection , kissing and sex ) Gifts ( buying her things she appreciates ) Words Of Affirmation  ( telling her positive things , compliments etc)

Now if you can work out which way she feels loved and then focus on fulfilling that love language , I guarantee that she is going to really start to becoming attached to you!

CHOOSE THE RIGHT MEDIUM FOR YOU – TEXT OR FACE TO FACE

The next step is deciding how you are going to do it ! Are you both someone who has big deep and meaningful conversations through text? Are emojis your thing? Or is it something that she would appreciate you saying face to face?

There is no right or wrong answer , although whilst telling here face to face is the scariest , it is usually the best way to do it . That way you can really see how she reacts and if it’s possible it means you can seal the deal with a kiss!

CHOOSE THE RIGHT TIMING

Next you want to choose the right timing , this is a somewhat intimate thing to do and really is the turning point of whether it makes or breaks your new relationship. So don’t do it when you are both drunk , stressed , fighting or in a noisy place !

Be a little strategic about the timing but also be open to the right opportunity when it comes along , whether that be when you are laughing and walking in the park , after you have just been intimate or maybe when she is being a cutey and you just have to tell her there and then.

When things aren’t too orchestrated it means you won’t be as stressed out , but at the same time at least be aware of when there might be a better time to tell her! If she is super stressed out or maybe in a bad mood then it’s probably not the right time to tell her.

SAY IT LOUD AND CLEAR

Ok guys here is where you have to jump out of the plane . There is no turning back now! Truth is if you have done all the above steps first you should at least know if she is starting to feel the same and when the right time is to say it.

Now that you are ready , do it boldly! This doesn’t mean yelling it at her , it means just owning your words and your feelings . Keep it simple , clear amd authentic and stay away from cheese and long speeches.

Simple phrases like “ I think I’m falling for you “ or “ I really like you , in every way”  are complete heart melters and come across really romantic and genuine. For me when my man told me , we were literally having a conversation in a pub with his family and friends and I simply stated “ I’m in love with you, to which he responded “ I’m in love with you too .” It was simple , to the point and bold , but it was the absolute truth!

EXPECT THE BEST , BUT PREPARE FOR THE WORST

Probably not what you wanted to hear , but as I said I can’t make this entirely risk free . Truth is love will always involve some unknown and lack of control and that my friends is why we like it! It’s important to remain optimistic because whatever you focus on is what comes into fruition .

And if you have started to test a few things before hand then you should have a pretty good indication if she is feeling the same way or not before you tell her.  But a little dose of reality helps to keep things realistic and not set ourselves up for unmet expectations .

If she doesn’t feel the same way then at least you have your answer and you can decide whether or not it is worth to keep pursuing her. Rejection happens to all of us and if you haven’t already I suggest you watch our other video on tips to handle rejection which I will link in the bio.

Now if you are someone who really struggles under pressure and feels like all your confidence goes out the window , then I suggest you download our confidence cheat sheet.

It contains 18 proven ways to increase yuor confidence and become fearless , which is usually what we need when we are about to out our heart on the line!

These methods are based on science and psychology and will help ease your nerves under stressful situations like telling the girl you like her!.

HERE’S THE RECAP:

Start dropping some hints and watch for her response

Show her first before you tell her

Choose the right way to say it , in person is usually best!

Choose the ideal timing

Say it loud and clear

Hope for the best but expect she may not feel the same way.

[botchedpromo-blog]

Assistance [Dean x Reader]

summary: dean provides you a little bit of help during your title match

word count: 1,024

warnings: swearing, slightly suggestive

“Have you ever seen two competitors fight so viciously?” Mauro Ranallo asked, fixing his gaze on the ongoing assault that was taking place in the ring.

You could not recall how long the beating had gone on for, but you were hurting all over. It wasn’t exactly hard to tell how much you were struggling to recover either; to repair the damage that had been done to you. Attempting to maneuver with any grace whatsoever was laughable, as your movements came out unintentionally jerky as a result from all the pain.

Though, when Alexa Bliss came into your line of sight, you could barely recognize her. Her gait was completely off; she walked more like a scarecrow as opposed to a human, and all lopsided at that. The closer she got to you, the more your heart started to race. It wasn’t until she was just inches away from you that you saw all of the injuries she sustained. Her right eye was entirely swollen, she could barely see a damn thing. Not to mention, the gash above her left eye that had turned her face into a mask of crimson. She was practically standing in a pool of blood which acted as a carpet on the once white ring mat.

“Shit, did I really do all that?” you muttered under your breath, staring back at your grisly-like opponent.

It was unlike you to go all out during a match, but this particular bout was for the Smackdown Live Women’s Championship. In other words, you had to push yourself past the very limit to achieve your goal.

“Who do you think will be taking home the gold tonight, JBL?” Mauro asked, turning to face his partner.

“Isn’t it obvious, Ranallo?” he scoffed, “There is no doubt in my mind that Alexa Bliss will be retaining her championship, and rightfully so!”

Every word that was said by the antagonizing commentator only added fuel to the fire that burned inside of you. Each phrase was like gasoline. It only made you realize just how badly you wanted to prove him wrong. Not long afterwards, pain blazed up your arm as your forearm connected with her face while she sunk into your stomach. Blood emerged from her mouth as you gagged. The both of you stumbled apart for a brief second to catch your breaths before diving back at one another. You dodged her clenched fist and came up with your own; for a concise moment, her unusually blue eyes widened before she tilted her head to give you a devastating head-butt. You tried to return the favor by throwing a sloppy dropkick, but to no avail, she caught her leg and used it to propel you backwards.

“Did you really think you could take me down that easily?” Alexa sneered with an infuriating smirk plastered across her face.

In that instant, Alexa flipped you over only to use your signature submission move against you, the Sharpshooter. Pain erupted from the point of impact and if that wasn’t enough, your ears were ringing from the deafening amount of boos coming from the crowd. Everything was falling apart in that moment. From the way you held yourself to that unassailable look of confidence in your eye. It was all gradually coming to a halt. The torment you’ve encountered in this match wasn’t sharp like any blade, it burned around throughout your body better than boiling water.

“Tap, dammit!” you heard JBL shout all the way from the commentators’ table.

Suddenly, the familiar sound of an engine revving filled the entire arena, making the crowd emit joyous cheers. You winced in pain as the weight of Alexa suddenly disappeared in a swift motion. Out came none other than the lunatic fringe himself, Dean Ambrose. He made his way past the ring, ignoring any of the incoherent yelling that came from Alexa. His baby blue eyes darted over to you, along with a huge smile that showcased his signature dimples.

“Why don’t you do all of us a favor and just get out?” Alexa asked, stepping in to block his view of you.

“You’re gonna have to run me over with a car to get rid of me, sunshine!” he retorted, his smile still prominent.

Alexa rolled her eyes at the former Mr. Money in the Bank and spun around to continue her incursion. However, in that short amount of time that Alexa and Dean shared exchanges, you had managed to get back on your feet. Wasting no time, you immediately put little Miss Bliss into a fireman’s carry followed by having her dropped into a knee lift.

“Show her how it’s done, doll!” Dean cheered.

With no hesitation, you roll Alexa up into a pin.

“1… 2…” the referee counted, “…3!”

Dean slid into the ring with your newly acclaimed championship in his hands.

“Congratulations, Y/N! I knew ya could do it” he said with a wink before wrapping the title around your waist.

Dean and the referee raised your arm and the crowd roared. Afterwards, he lifted up the ropes so you could step out, following closely behind.

“What was that all about?” you asked as soon as the two of you reached Gorilla position.

As he leaned forwards, your heart began to race again. A few small locks of his dark brown hair tumbled in front of your face, barely resting on the side of your cheek. Though, with one swift swipe of his thumb, it was promptly brushed away. Whilst meeting his alluring gaze, you were instantly drawn to it. Once his lips met your cheek, your entire face felt red and hot.

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re a fucking talented wrestler” he chuckled, “Just thought you needed a little assistance”

At that point in time, you felt his hot breath on your neck that was accompanied by his soft lips. You feel one of his hands slide around your waist, pulling you closer to his warm embrace. You can’t help but feel your lips curve at his soft touch.

“You know, Dean” you whisper into his ear, “Wrestling isn’t the only thing I’m good at…”

[twxntrash]

Homeworld Police Department Ch. 2

The bus took approximately two hours after Peridot had boarded it, having to make multiple stops along the way to pick up various other police cadets to bring to the academy they would all be attending. The bus hadn’t exactly been empty when Peridot first boarded, but, it was certainly packed after the final stop before reaching their destination. She had underestimated just how many Gems would be attending for the next nineteen weeks. There were Gems of all different cuts. She saw Rubies squished together and laughing, that Gem type always grouped up with itself in various ‘Ruby Squads’. But, she also saw large Jaspers, Amethysts, Carnelians, Roses’ and even a handful of Bismuth Gems on the bus. Not that it was easy to see when all the large bodies cut off her field of vision.

Peridot herself had ended up squashed between a Rose Quartz whose hair was in a short, curly pink bob, and an Amethyst with a gem on her neck who kept laughing rather loudly at even the slightest of thing. It wasn’t the most comfortable of places to be and Peridot was grateful that she wasn’t an easy Gem to poof or else she’d have retreated into her gem by now from all the crushing pressure put on her from the gems beside her, not that her seatmates seemed to care, or even notice.

By the time the bus did finally pull up to the academy, Peridot was immensely grateful to be off it and in possession of her personal space once again. Her entire body felt cramped and she had to stretch to get the kinks out and loosen her stiff limbs.

Her first thought when she saw the academy was that it looked much more like a prison than a school. But, she supposed that it was only fitting. The group was led by one of the staff to the dorms where they picked their bed and dropped off their things. Given exactly ten minutes to settle in and change into their new uniforms before they would have to meet up in front of the building to meet their instructor for orientation. The Gems practically ran and shoved each other away in what Peridot assumed was jokingly and friendly on their way to the dorms. Throwing their bags on the beds, diving onto them and making the bunks creak and rock and cause Peridot worry of them breaking.

She managed to find herself an empty top bunk above one of the Rose Quartzes attending the academy. It was a bit of a climb, and the beds rather spacious considering they were designed to hold larger gems. But, she got the top, dropped her bags onto the mattress and was quick in making her bed and doing all she needed. She could leave her clothes in the bag, no reason to take them out right now.

With the ten minutes up, she was next found kneeling on the cool grass with all the gems of her class, watching as the instructor paced in front of them.

“Alright, Cadets, first thing you need to keep in mind is that you will need to be able to adapt to the various environments of all the different cities and colonies,” Holly Blue Agate declared as she held her arms behind her back, “Each colony is designed to match the environment best suited for the primary Gem their Kindergarten produces. But big cities like Homeworld, they have multiple environments to meet the needs of all the Gems living inside.” She drew her hand back and summoned a whip, with a flick of her wrist it cracked on the ground right in front of the cadets making them flinch back. “City Central! District One; Frosty and slippery ice! District Two; Fire, lava, and intense heat! District Three: More than enough water for a gem to go missing in! District Four:  High treetops, vine, and thick vegetation! To name a few!”

There was a chorus of murmurs among the Gems as they shared thoughts on the primary districts of Homeworld. The ones Holly Blue had listed were rather large districts in the massive city, and the usual types of biomes for colonies to have. Peridots own Colony was most closely related to City Central, in fact, and Garnet told her her colony she was made in had been the same biome that District Two was. It was exciting thinking of working all the different districts in one city, and Holly wasn’t even bringing up the many smaller districts the city had!

“The cities aren't safe and cozy like some of you may think! You'll need to learn how to move about in each district,” Holly Blue yelled as she came to a stop directly in front of the Gems, bringing her whip behind her once more, it cracking at the feet of one of the Amethysts, her expression harsh and serious, “Or you’ll be shattered in the line of duty.”

Peridot felt her heart stop in her chest for a second at that way of phrasing. She felt for a moment her instructor was staring right at her as she said that.

Training started the very next day, with the first evening having been spent familiarizing themselves with the buildings and rules. While Peridot found herself best with the textbook work; learning and memorizing the entire books they were given and aced any question she was asked. When it came to the quizzes on laws, tests on what the proper procedure in a scenario would be, she’d ace it.

The physical part of her training was something else entirely.

The different fields were made to match the various biomes they may have to deal with on the force. They were made to match the biomes in the most extreme conditions, in fact. And the academy certainly didn’t pull any punches on them either.

Scorching lava bubbles. Sure, they weren’t actual lava pools being used to mimic District Two’s extensive magma veins, even Holly Blue wasn’t going to risk killing her cadets. But the red dyed waters were at a boiling temperature and painful to touch, no one wanted to be the one to fall into the scalding water. There must have been a Lapis Lazuli somewhere out of sight controlling the ‘lava pool’ to make it bubble and shoot up as it did to mimic the spastic eruptions of District Two.

The Ruby gems didn’t have a problem. They just ran on forward, ignoring the heat and the burns they could have gotten. Many even ran right through the water without hesitation. Peridot supposed that being a Ruby and all, they were pretty well immune to the Districts environment. Even the larger Gems who struggled to stay balanced on the loose pieces of rock floating in the pools made good progress in their run forward to the ‘safe zone’.

But, Peridot wasn’t having much luck. The stepping stone rocks that were positioned to help them get across the fake lava pool were spaced too far apart for her, and far too loose for her to stay balanced for long. She could barely get from one stone to the other and was moving at a painfully slow pace. Her suspect would have already been gone and the pursuit failed with the rate she was going at. Almost halfway forward she’d misjudged the distance and ended up falling into the boiling water.

With a scream of panic and pain, the green Gem scrambled to get out of the water as her entire body burned.

“You’re dead, 5XG!” Holly Blue screamed from the sidelines.

Thirty-foot tall ice walls in District One was not anything uncommon, and the one at the academy was almost that height but not quite. It was as though they were in a corner of the district, the air was freezing and the ground was covered in ice and snow with the base of their ice wall a freezing pond with ice of varying thickness. The gems raced, with the larger ones in the lead; the ice shattering under their feet only to freeze back over a second later. The climb wasn’t easy for anyone, especially not for Peridot.

The small green Gem kept slipping, losing her footing on the ice or snow which came up several inches on her legs during the running half of the course. While she did make it to the ice wall before anyone was able to climb over it, she didn’t do much better. Peridot got maybe a foot up the ice wall before she’d lost her grip and fell, the ice she landed on broke sending her into the freezing cold water. If she thought District Two’s lava pools were bad, this one was even worse.

“Shattered, Triangle-Head!”

District Four was heavy rainfall while trying to cross slippery, vine covered monkey bars raised up high above the ground. The environment was for agile, smaller Gems and ones who worked best with plant life, or just Gems who wanted to live a thousand feet above the ground despite the dangerous and deadly fall they were at risk of. The water was making it hard to grip the bars for everyone, and they weren’t the firmest, constantly bending under the weight of the Gems just as the branches would in the district.

For Peridot, she did a little better than the previous ones, but about halfway she’d lost her grip and fell the twenty feet right onto her face into the mud below.Thank the stars she was very durable or her gem might have cracked.

“Broke your gem, tech-head,” was the shout from the instructor at her failure and a series of chuckles from some of the Gems up on the bars still moving forward.

When she was put in the boxing ring against a Bismuth to stimulate a hostile suspect resisting arrest, well, it was to the surprise of no one that she was sent flying with one hit and was seeing stars when she hit the post.  Holly Blue just shouted ‘cracked’ and that was that.

That was what the first half was like, a symphony of ‘Dead, broke, cracked,’ at every exercise she failed.

It was infuriating being told again and again by not just her instructor, but by her fellow Gems to go home. It was clear that the others were looking down on her, she was incompetent in their eyes, unfit to be here. A comic relief for the other, stronger Gems. “Go home Tech Gem.” “Go back to your colony and get a job fixing machines, short stuff” “We don’t need a mechanic, go back to where the other Peridots are Technogem.”

She laid in her bed, body throbbing from the bruises she’d received from the day and previous day’s exercises. Around her was a harmony of snores from sleeping Gems (Their kind may not need to sleep, but it seemed like Quartz gems rather enjoyed the time-consuming task) but the snores were better than the mocking laughs the other gems gave her, teasing her for her inability to do what they claimed were simple tasks. She glared at the ceiling as she thought it over.

As though the training wasn’t bad enough, her classmates were horrible, rude and just idiots. Constantly mocking her because she was the odd one out. They had no respect for her, all they saw when they looked at her was a technician trying to play cop. Always calling her Tech Gem, Tech Gem.

For Star’s sake! If she had wanted to be a technician or mechanic, she wouldn’t have applied for the police academy!

It was like a light bulb had gone off in her head as the thought ran through her mind.

She was quick to sit up, her eyes wide as the small green Gem scrambled to find her notebook from her bag hanging from one of the bed posts on her bunk. Finding it and a pencil, she threw the blankets over her to offer some privacy as her gem produced a bright green light to shine on the notebook as she turned to a blank page. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and ideas and a smile formed on her face.

She began sketching out blueprints.

“You want a Tech Gem, I’ll show you a Tech Gem, Nyeheheh!” she had to keep herself from laughing too loudly as she got to work.

It took weeks, months even. Slowly but surely Peridot began to improve, her drive and ambition renewed to the point she wasn’t letting anyone stop her. Her personal project which she’d finished within a week had been a great help as well; gloves that had retractable claw like appendages, and she even modified her shoes to hold the same property.

Of course, they did nothing to help her physically; her speed and strength were improved all by her own determination and hard work. From her spending her free time and the entire nights practicing and training on her own, in fact. She didn't bother wasting her time with unneeded commodities like sleep, and it certainly paid off. Her prototype limb enhancers only offered her a better grip for some of the obstacles. The boots digging into the ground to keep her from falling or slipping, the claws digging into the ice walls and monkey bars so she did fall down.

Eventually, as their class came to its end, she had reached the top. Peridot was outrunning the other gems in the races, climbing over the ice wall the fastest. She was even able to beat the Bismuth during the boxing match thanks to her studying several different boxing videos and matches on MyTube. What could she say? Peridots were fast learners. Just building up the muscles to go along with it all took some time.

When graduation rolled around, she couldn’t have been happier. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping and the air nice and warm. The ceremony was outside, all the cadets were lined up with their instructor, Holly, at the front. Chairs were spread out and the friends of the graduates watching with joy, cheering them on. Peridot easily spotted Garnet and Pearl at the front row, the lithe gem practically crying as she smiled.

Everyone snapped to attention when the microphone turned on and a throat cleared. Eyes training forward to the Homeworlds two mayors who stood in front of the crowd.

Pink and Blue Diamonds, two of the former matriarchs of Gemkind, now serving as elected mayor leaders of the city. No longer were they the massive gems that demanded and commanded respect wherever they went, though they still commanded respect with their presence. The Diamonds had compressed their physical forms to be closer to the rest of Gemkind in terms of size back when Homeworld began striving for equality among the people. They still towered over all the other Gems, but they weren’t so big that they could carry multiple Pearls in one hand anymore. They could still go to their original heights when needed, but, there was rarely an occasion where they needed to be so massive anymore.

Blue took the podium, looking as regal as always as Pink stood to the side, “As leader of Homeworld, I am proud to say that our world and our people have taken yet another great step towards becoming a society where every Gem is given an equal opportunity in their life to be what they want,” she spoke to the crowd, her voice soft and soothing even now. The crowd let out a few cheers and many applauds during the small pause she took, “In police work it was astonishing when a Bismuth joined the previously Quartz only force, then a Ruby joined the lines and everyone was shocked to find that size did not matter in the line of work. Now, I am honored to introduce the valedictorian of her class, our very first Peridot officer; Peridot 2F5L 5XG.”

A few of her fellow classmates gave her pats on the back as they nudged her forward, whispers of congratulations to her. Unable to wipe her smile from her face, Peridot made her way to the stage as the crowd applauded.

“Peridot! That’s our Peridot! We're so proud of you!” Pearl yelled as she jumped to her feet, clapping louder than anyone as she cheered, drawing the attention of many Gems. It was nice, but a bit embarrassing how vocal Pearl had to be at this moment. At least Garnet wasn’t doing anything embarrassing- no. Never mind. She’d brought a sign.

The green Gem couldn’t even bring herself to look at them as her face burned a blue, but she kept her head high as she approached the Diamonds.

Pink smiled taking the few steps towards her and kneeling down as she pinned the golden badge to Peridot’s uniform. She was smiling so brightly and proudly and even remained kneeling beside the small gem as Blue continued talking.

“Peridot, it is my honor to assign you to the heart of Homeworld,” Blue Diamond said as she looked down at the Gem, her expression warm and proud as more Gems applauded in the graduations audience. “You will at Precinct One, City Central.” Oh, Stars. If Peridot smiled at wider, her face might split in half.

The younger Diamond held out a hand to her, “Congratulations, Officer Peridot.”

“Thank you, Pink Diamond, I won’t let you down,” Peridot said as she took the hand and gave it a shake, trying to appear serious but broke into grins only seconds later as she said softly to the large gem, “This has been my dream since I came from my Kindergarten, I almost can’t believe I’m actually standing here!”

Pink smiled bigger at that and glanced around them, “Well, it’s a big, proud day for all Gemkind,” she whispered back. It was no secret to anyone that Pink Diamond was the most active and vocal when it came to making Homeworld an equal place for every Gem, so being here, seeing a Peridot become a police officer was without a doubt a victory in her books.

The other Diamond, Blue, slipped over to stand on Peridot’s other side, kneeling down as she nudged the new officer to stand to face the crowd, a hand on her shoulder as Pink did the same. “Come on, Officer, let’s show those teeth,” Blue said as she smiled brightly for the flashing cameras and newsmen.

It was midnight, the moon high in the sky and the stars shining brightly, but they weren’t outside to be able to enjoy the beauty of the night. Instead, she was inside in one of the places she so often frequented.

The room was filled with a smell of alcohol, a haze of cigarette smoke and the ever reverberating beat of the music, slot machines, and gems letting out hoots and hollers. The casino was packed with gems bustling about to throw all their money away in an attempt to get rich off machines and cards. The place was lit with flashing lights from the machines and low-lit ceiling lights, but overall it was mostly a dim building. The casino wasn’t the high town type, but being a back alley, mostly illegal gambling ring that had plenty of crooks and mob bosses hanging out inside didn’t make it any less popular.

Blue eyes watched as a handful of red and green chips were pushed onto the felt table, “Raise twenty-five,” the Charoite called to the other players who were all a mix of different gems. A few grumbled but that was how it went.

“Heard on the news that some runts joined the police force here,” a bulky Aventurine commented as she added her chips in to meet the raised bet, pausing to take a sip from a beer bottle beside her. She let out a loud laugh as lowered the bottle and continued talking, shaking her head, “A damn Peridot of all Gems, can you believe it? Next you'll see a frail, skinny little thing like a Pearl out in uniform.”

A Ruby next to her raised a brow as she sent in her bet, “Oh, yeah, I saw it on the news too. Some tiny tech gem from a small colony I bet. She’s not going to last at all out here. Probably get crushed by a drunk Jasper.”

It was her turn, and the blue Gem pushed forward a few black chips, “Raising,” she told the table with a neutral expression, a cigarette held gently between her lips, “And, what does it matter if this new cop is a Peridot or a Diamond? Just another cop who’s useless at her job.” she added with a hint of annoyance and a dash of bitterness.

There was a chorus of whistles at the large raise, a few hands folded.

“I just think it’s funny is all. A Peridot? I don’t think I’ve ever seen or heard of a Gem that small in law enforcements. Other than Rubies, but, they were made for fighting and what not. Former soldiers and all.” Charoite replied with a shrug as she put her cards down and leaned back in her chair, “Folding. Not dumb enough to risk that much money.”

“But dumb enough to risk missing out on winning that much,” An Emerald nudged her with a laugh, pushing in some chips to meet the bet, ”But, come on, Lazuli, she’s right. It’s just plain silly that they’re assigning her to the big city of all places. She’ll be eaten alive in the first day!”

Well, they weren’t wrong about anything they were saying. Out of the over two thousand years that Lapis Lazuli had existed since she'd popped right out of the Kindergarten, she’d never once seen anything like this. Sure, she had about a hundred years of missing time, but, even she knew nothing groundbreaking had happened during the century she was absent from. Poor Gem probably thought she was going to be some kind of superhero or some BS like that coming out here as a cop. Probably watched to many movies and had some fantasy idea in her head. Didn’t know the kind of life she was going to get, especially with this police force.

“Before the month is out, I bet she’ll go back to her home colony all upset and angry because police work didn’t work out for her,” Lapis said as they laid their cards out onto the table, showing their hands. A small smirk formed as she reached out and pulled the betted chips to her side, “Well, I think I’m going to collect my money now and bid you all adieu.”

She was given a collective groan from the players when she won the round but watched as the money was fished out and handed to her from the other gems. This was how Lapis generally was, she’d make a big bet, usually win it, and leave after earning a good amount of money before she could lose it all. So far she’d made a fair amount of money that way, but she’d lost a fair amount too. Oh well, it was poker, she knew better than to complain.

Ruby waved Lapis off, “Well, be safe ya hear? City is a dangerous place after all.”

[spaztronautwriter]

Purge Night: Chapter 6

A/N: I actually updated! Yay! Sorry about that. I had a lot of trouble with this chapter, but I wanted to get back to this story so here it is. Hopefully you’ll enjoy it.

Read on AO3

Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight

Warning: this story contains graphic violence.

###

Slade’s blade cut into the skin of her throat, causing another terrified whimper to escape her.

“Put the mask on, kid,” Slade said to Oliver. “I want you to be able to see it when I spill her blood on the floor.”

Felicity swallowed and even that made the sword press harder into her flesh. So fighting him off probably wasn’t going to work then, not unless she enjoyed bleeding. She stared out into the darkness, knowing Oliver was right there in front of her and he had a gun. She kept repeating it to herself, trying to hold onto hope. She really didn’t want to die tonight.

“You’re not gonna kill her, Slade,” Oliver said, voice slightly muffled. He must have put on the mask, which meant he could see her. She tried to school her features, tried to look less terrified than she felt. “You wouldn’t kill an unarmed woman.”

Something in Oliver’s voice caught her attention, but she couldn’t see him. She wished she could see him, look into his eyes…

“Drop the gun or I will,” Slade threatened. “Do it.”

And to Felicity’s surprise, Oliver did. She heard a clatter on the floor maybe ten feet ahead and her heart sank.

“You’re really doing this because of a college grudge?” Oliver asked. “You’re going to kill me because Shado didn’t want you?”

“She would have!” Slade bellowed so loudly Felicity struggled not to flinch. “If you hadn’t stolen the moment away from me! I was going to convince her we were right for each other. Soulmates. Until you got in the way!”

He pushed Felicity down to her knees and a weight shifted in the pocket of her hoodie. The knife Oliver had taken from Isabel. Felicity had forgotten about it in her panic. She wasn’t unarmed after all and Oliver knew it. Now all she had to do was figure out a way to use it against the sword wielding giant of a man behind her.

“You don’t have to do this, Slade,” Oliver stated, his voice almost eerily calm.

"No! This is exactly what the Purge is for. Releasing our hatred. Our old grudges. Once I kill you,” Slade said, sounding desperate as an edge of hysteria creeped into his voice, “I’ll be able to let it go. I’ll finally be free.”

“I know what it feels like to hate,” Oliver said, and the weight of it told Felicity he was talking about Malcolm Merlyn, “but this is not the way you deal with it! You don’t kill the people you used to be friends with over a petty argument! I’m sorry for what happened with Shado. I’m sorry if I got in the way of something, but this isn’t going to solve anything. Let Felicity go. She doesn’t deserve—”

A high pitched battle cry echoed through the large space, cutting Oliver off abruptly. The sounds of a scuffle broke out and Slade shifted, his sword still at her neck. Felicity squinted hard into the darkness, trying to see what was happening, but it was no use.

The loudest sound she had ever heard went off above her head and a flash like lightning lit the room in time for Felicity to see Isabel, machine gun in hand, fall to the floor beside Oliver. Her gun clattered across the cement and Slade shifted again, pulling Felicity to her feet, sword to her throat again, but this time she gripped the knife tightly in her fist.

“That’s what happens when you don’t take care of your enemies, kid,” Slade said. “Now I’m gonna take care of mine, but first… What did you say her name was again?” A rough finger stroked against her cheek, startling her, and she gripped the knife tighter. “Felicity? What a perfect name. You took away my chance at happiness, now I’ll take yours.”

This was it, Felicity realized. He was going to kill her or she was going to kill him first. Her palm felt sweaty on the handle of the knife, but she gripped it tight and threw her arm back, blindly aiming for Slade’s neck, the place where his mask didn’t quite meet his armor. She felt the blade sink in, heard Slade’s roar of pain and felt his sword fall away from her throat. Taking the opportunity to twist away, she put as much distance as she could between herself and the madman. Suddenly the room lit up again, the gunfire deafening and Felicity was sure she was dead. That Slade had pulled his gun around from where it had been slung over his shoulder and he was killing her and Oliver. Except no bullets struck her; the pain she imagined would accompany a bullet wound never flared. Instead the gunfire ceased, the room turned dark again and she crouched low on the ground, sucking in gasping breaths while trying to figure out what had happened.

A moment later the overhead lights snapped on and Felicity saw Slade, lying on the cold cement. A pool of blood gathered around the man, growing in size by the second. Oliver stood a few feet away, Isabel’s gun in hand and pointed at Slade’s prone form.

Getting slowly to her feet, Felicity’s eyes fixed on the knife on the floor beside Slade’s head, on the blood pooling around it, and all she could think was: had she delivered the fatal wound or had it been the bullets to take him down?

But then Oliver was striding forward, grabbing the gun from the man’s hands and slinging it over his shoulder, along with Isabel’s. He bent to pick up the knife, wiping the blood off on his jeans and tucking it into his waistband. Then he turned to Felicity, his eyes running over her quickly before grabbing her by the elbow and shuffling her toward the double doors at the back of the room.

"We need to find a way out of here. They’ll be sending in their guards any second,” he said, inspecting the door for a way to get it open.

"Did I kill him?” she asked, voice shaky and breathless as she watched his profile as he studied the door. “Did I just kill a man?”

Oliver turned to her and the furrow of his brow, the sympathetic pout of his lips… it was enough.

"Oh god,” she gasped, the hysteria tightening her lungs to the point of pain. She couldn’t breathe. She needed to breathe.

"Felicity, look at me. Breathe.” He stepped closer, cupping her cheek with one hand to force her to meet his wide blue eyes. Bile rose painfully in her throat. Taking her hand in his, he brought it up to his chest and breathed deeply. Once, twice. Felicity tried to follow his lead, sucking in gulps of oxygen past the bitter lump in her throat. “There you go,” Oliver said after a moment. “You can’t fall apart on me right now, okay? Believe me, I know it’s tempting. Slade was…” He paused, closing his eyes tightly for a moment, before looking back at her, even more determined than before. “He was going to kill us and we handled it. I need you with me if we’re going to get out of here, alright?”

Allowing herself one more stuttering breath, she nodded and followed his gaze back to the steel doors. There was a security panel beside them, just like all of the other doors they’d seen in this place. A glowing green light indicated the lock was currently engaged.

"I can open it,” Felicity said, swallowing down the bitter taste in her mouth and scanning the panel. She could do this. She had to do this; she was their only hope. Pushing all thoughts of Slade—and her very possibly first homicide—aside, she ran a finger along the edge of the panel’s faceplate. “I just…” Felicity looked around, her eyes landing on Oliver. “Give me that knife.”

Oliver reached into his waistband, pulling the blade free and handing it over without any hesitation. Felicity tried really hard not to notice the smudge of blood on the blade. Jamming it into the crease between the box and panel cover, she used it as a lever to pry the box open, exposing its circuitry. Just when she was about to reach in to grab the wires she needed, the door on the other side of the room—the one they’d come through—flew open, revealing two armed guards dressed in camo. More rushed in behind them.

"Felicity!” Oliver shouted, bringing up one of the machine guns. “We need to go. Now!”

He wasn’t wrong. There were no walls or obstacles to use as cover near the doors, but if they went to hide they’d never make it out. Getting the doors open, and quickly, was their only hope.

She spun back to the box, looking for the right set of wires. She’d never seen this particular model before, but it didn’t look that sophisticated. She still needed to check all of the connections, but she was sure she could do it. Meanwhile, Oliver was laying down… suppressive fire? Was that the phrase? She was pretty sure it was. She couldn’t see them, but she imagined the guards diving behind the low retainer walls to avoid being turned into Swiss cheese.

"Felicity!” Oliver yelled again. He fired another round of bullets before the gun clicked, clearly empty. Tossing it to the side, he pulled out the other, firing in short bursts.

She ignored him, pulling a cluster of wires free. She was almost positive this was it. If she disconnected and then reconnected them, the system should reset itself, allowing her to open the door.

A spray of bullets hit the wall a few feet away and she ducked on instinct, a yelp of fear escaping her.

"Get it open!” Oliver gritted, before firing on the guards again.

"On it,” she said, the adrenaline coursing through her as she got back to her feet. Despite her shaking hands, she managed to disconnect the wires. The light on the control panel turned red briefly, indicating the system was down.

Another hail of bullets pinged off the door this time. A burning sensation sliced through her thigh, but she ignored it—and the fear coursing through her—and reconnected the wires, turning the red light green. Oliver kept shooting and Felicity reattached the front of the panel, using the keypad to tell the rebooted system to open the door. The machine gun clicked ominously just as the doors slid open revealing a well lit room covered from floor to ceiling in weapons.

"Shit!” Oliver cursed, dropping the gun.

"Let’s go!” she shouted, rushing into the room, Oliver hot on her heels. She turned back, using the panel inside the room to close the doors just as five armed guards made a mad rush for them.

Oliver grabbed her, dragging her down behind the narrow concrete wall beside the door to protect her as the guards rained bullets down on them. Somehow, through the noise, she heard him hiss a breath, but then the doors were closed and the only noise was the sound of bullets striking steel, before even that faded.

"Oliver?” she asked, pulling back enough to see his face. He was grimacing, but he was alive. His face was black and blue in a few places and she didn’t know if it was from Isabel or the thugs that brought them here. “Are you okay?”

"I’ll be fine,” he said, shifting so he could sit with his back against the wall. Gingerly lifting his arm, he inspected his shoulder. Which was covered in blood.

"Oh my god! You’re bleeding.”

Oliver looked back at her with narrowed eyes. “I don’t need to be told that.”

Felicity jumped to her feet, looking around for… something that would help. Except that, the moment she put pressure on her left leg, that sharp pain from before struck again and she cried out.

"Shit,” Oliver said, reaching for her. “You’re shot.”

"I don’t need to be told that!” she said, bracing an arm against the wall as he helped her sit.

Looking down at her leg made her want to hurl up the little bit of salad she’d been able to eat earlier, before the night went to complete hell for the second time. Her jeans were ripped and soaked through with blood.

Oliver leaned closer to get a better look at it. “It’s just a graze. You’ll be fine, but we need to wrap it to try and stop the bleeding.”

He unbuttoned his dress shirt, revealing a white t-shirt underneath. Carefully slipping it off his wounded shoulder, he reached for the knife Felicity had forgotten she was still holding. With a few quick swipes, his dress shirt was torn into two strips and he wrapped one around Felicity’s thigh, knotting it tight to keep the pressure on the wound. It hurt, but probably not as much as it hurt Oliver when he wrapped the other around his bicep, using his teeth to pull the knot tight.

He barely stopped to take a breath before he was already back on his feet, perusing the armory and all of the different weapons it held, like he hadn’t just been shot. Felicity followed his lead, using the wall to pull herself up and then gritting her teeth until the burning sensation in her leg faded, replaced by a dull sort of throb.

"Here,” he said, turning to hand her a pistol, much like the one Dig had given her. She checked to make sure the safety was in the same place he’d shown her.

Oliver found a bow hanging on the back wall and dozens of very sharp looking arrows in a display nearby. She wasn’t sure what his obsession with archery was about—I mean, wouldn’t a gun be easier?—but she did have to admit this bow was a lot nicer than the one he’d gotten from that wannabe Robin Hood earlier. It looked like it was made of carbon fiber and had some sort of pulley system on the ends. This bow definitely did not look ridiculous when he pulled back the string and experimentally notched an arrow. He released it quickly, depositing it with the rest of the arrows in a quiver he found near the case and slinging it over his good shoulder.

"We need to get out of here,” he said, turning to face the door that led out of the armory and to… well, probably more bad guys with guns, which totally didn’t make her want to go out there. Oliver seemed to sense her thoughts. “We can’t wait them out. Too many hours till dawn. I’d rather take the fight to them then let them corner us in here.”

Felicity couldn’t fault his logic, even if she was still processing possibly killing a man and being shot just a few minutes ago, so she turned to the panel near the other door and got to work. This one was easier since she knew what she was doing and soon enough the light on the panel blinked red and then green.

"You stay here and wait for my signal, alright?” Oliver said, hand already resting on the knob. “I’ll clear the area and then we’ll move out.”

"Oliver…” she whispered, feeling adrenaline mix with her nerves. Her heart was throbbing, but at least it forced the pain in her leg to the back of her mind.

He reached over quickly, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “I’m gonna get you out of here,” he promised, blue eyes sparkling intensely under the bright fluorescents.

She knew he would try, that wasn’t even a question. It didn’t exactly calm her nerves though.

"But Felicity,” he said, looking down at their joined hands before meeting her eyes. “If I’m hurt or…” He swallowed, his throat bobbing. “You close the door and do everything you can to hold them off, okay?”

Her earlier hysteria threatened to rise again, but she pushed it back down, giving him a determined nod and adjusting the gun in her free hand.

Untangling their hands, Oliver reached for the door again, swinging it open and taking a quick step back behind the wall. Just as Felicity thought, bullets started flying, but he ducked low, leaning out quickly and releasing an arrow. A moment later a guard rounded the corner, but Oliver was ready. He used his bow to strike out at the man, knocking the pistol from his hand and then landing a vicious blow to his face. The guard slumped down against the wall and Oliver peered through the door again before signaling for Felicity to follow him.

The door opened up into a wood paneled hallway with deep burgundy carpeting. Oliver hurried down it and Felicity kept close, doing her best to avoid looking at the dead man on the ground, even as Oliver bent to collect his arrow from the man’s chest. Turning left when they came to an intersection, Oliver led them to another set of doors that Felicity overrode just in time to see a group of men in camo round the corner at the end of the hall behind them.

"Shit,” Oliver said, pushing the doors shut behind them just as the bullets began to fly, pinging off the metal. “We need to keep moving. This won’t hold them very long.”

"Hang on,” she said, using her knife to pop the cover off the security panel before quickly jerking three wires loose. “This’ll slow them down a little. You know, hopefully.”

Once she was done she turned to see Oliver investigating the hallway they’d found themselves in. It was less fancy than the previous one, but Felicity took that as a good thing. With any luck they were close to an exit.

Oliver took down two more guards by surprise as they rounded the corner. As he pulled the arrow from the second body, tucking it back into his quiver, Felicity tried not to think about the blood that must be pooling at the bottom of that thing. They couldn’t afford to waste the arrows, not when the had no idea what was in store for them. He was definitely an excellent shot, though, and clearly more comfortable with the bow than with the guns he’d used before, despite his arm wound.

They kept moving until, finally, they came to a thick steel door. There was a security panel beside it and Felicity began her usual routine, the lights blinking red then green before the lock released with a click. Oliver reached out, turning the knob slowly and opening the door just enough to peek inside. Or outside, as it turned out. A chain link fence ran parallel to the warehouse, a gate letting out into an alley just feet away. There were no guards positioned outside and Felicity wondered why before deciding she didn’t care. They needed a little luck tonight and she wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. The sooner she got out of this horror show the better.

"Let’s go,” Oliver said, bow gripped tight in one hand while he reached back for Felicity with the other. “Most of the guards are probably still inside, but they’re not the only threat out there so…”

"Head on a swivel, right?” she said, lifting her gun and flicking the safety off.

Oliver paused, the slightest of smiles flicking up the corner of his lips. “Yeah.”

Nodding, Felicity followed him outside, gun held tightly in her palm. She watched Oliver scan the area, trying her best to do the same. After a moment, he moved to the gate, studying the padlock.

“Do you think you can climb this fence with your leg?” he asked, releasing the lock. It fell back against the chain link with an echoing rattle.

To be honest, Felicity wasn’t sure. She was handling walking pretty well, but any more pressure than that… “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I can try.”

Oliver assessed her, then turned back to their surroundings. “Give me the gun,” he said, holding out a hand. “I’m gonna shoot the lock and then we’re going to run, okay? You stay as close to me as possible.”

Felicity wasn’t sure running was going to go over much better than climbing, but she handed over the gun and prepared herself to move.

The blast went off a moment later. Oliver handed her back the gun with one hand while throwing open the newly unlocked fence with the other. Then they were running and despite the ache in Felicity’s leg she kept up. Down the alley, past a dumpster and then out onto an abandoned street. At the intersection, Oliver took one look at the street sign and took her elbow, guiding her away from the warehouse and back into the residential area. There were shouts from behind them, then the pop of gunshots and Felicity tried not to think about what it felt like when hot lead ripped through flesh. Oliver darted behind a tall brick wall, yanking her with him as bullets drove into the bricks, dust and debris shooting up around them.

She watched the dust float up under the orange glow of the street lamp, listening to the shouting and the footsteps growing closer by the second. If she were being honest, Felicity would admit that she was probably in shock, so she leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. Her leg was throbbing and the rest of her wasn’t feeling so hot either. More shouts echoed through the night.

"We have to lose them,” Oliver said, gesturing for her to go ahead of him. Felicity just gasped and glanced around.

A cracked cement path lead to a basketball court with weeds growing out of it on one side and a rusty playground on the other. She knew this place.

"We’re by the waterfront,” she wheezed. “We’re no where near Verdant.”

"I know,” he said, ducking low before peeking his head around the wall to see what their pursuers were doing.

"Where are we gonna go?” she asked, pushing off the wall.

"We just need to outrun them,” he said, standing up drawing his bow, then nodded for her to go ahead while he watched their backs. “Just keep going. Shoot anyone that moves.”

She did, even though her leg was protesting the decision. They couldn’t stay here though, she knew that. So she ran, limping, towards the other side of the park, gun held out in front of her in a poor imitation of John Diggle.

It took almost fifteen minutes and a lot of ducking down side streets and alleys before they were able to shake the guys in camo, but eventually Oliver declared the pursuit over. He leaned back against a boarded up storefront, his bow forgotten at his side for the moment as he caught his breath. Felicity barely stopped herself from collapsing onto the sidewalk.

"You’re still bleeding,” Oliver said and Felicity glanced down to see the makeshift bandage he’d made out of his shirt soaked through and starting to loosen.

When she looked up, Oliver was focused intently on a building on the other side of the road. The metal security gate was bent and broken near the bottom corner, pulled away from the store in a clearly successful attempt at a break in. The colorful sign above the door declared the place a convenience store.

"We need to clean your wound,” Oliver muttered and Felicity wasn’t sure he was even talking to her by the way his brow was furrowed. He looked like he was weighing his options. “There’s got to be first aid supplies in there.”

"And what if there’s already someone else in there?” she asked, shifting to stand taller, both hands closing around the pistol as she watched the store suspiciously.

Oliver kept his gaze on the store. “Then we handle it. But we need supplies and we need a break if we’re going to make it to Verdant.”

Without another word he started forward, bow held ready in front of him.

Felicity closed her eyes for a moment, sending up a silent prayer that no one was inside, then followed him to whatever awaited them in that convenience store.

###

Tagging:

@pottercastleminds @relativelyobsessedfangirl @falonmarie82 @adiwriting @hope-for-olicity (If you’d like to be tagged or untagged just let me know :)