#q i need to know every thought you’ve ever had please never stop texting me in the middle of the night xoxo

[shitouttabuck]

for @onward--upward, who texted me screenshots of this scene at 3am the night before 7x03 dropped

[justauthoring]

Then, The Moment Came

Prompt: It just never was the right time. Not then, not later, until it suddenly is and everything’s... different. Requested by: no one.

A/N: The Atsumu debut on my account has finally happened. And yes, this is very loosely, loosely based off of A Silent Voice because I literally cannot get it out of my head. Oh, and I love soulmates au’s. Pairing: Atsumu Miya x F!Reader

A hard shove to your shoulders sends you to the ground with a huff, pain radiating through your being as you huff.

There’s jeering laughs that echo, hurtful enough that you don’t say anything, don’t try to stand up for yourself -- instead, you keep your head down, hair falling into your eyes as you bite your lips to fight back the tears that threaten to fall. 

It’s not even the shove, or the pain that follows, that has tears welling. 

They hurt so much less then...

“You’re just a freak,” Atsumu spits at you, “no wonder no one likes you.”

Atsumu Miya, ten years old, and he absolutely hates you. Why, you have absolutely no idea. It’s been like this ever since you moved into the house across the street from him, walked into his class that one fateful day, and introduced yourself. 

You’d felt his glare on your back as you took the seat in front of him, and when you’d turned to face him, a harsh kick at the leg of your chair had you freezing in surprise.

You’d never spoken to him. Never directly. But after school that first day, he’d found you on your way home, tripped you so hard you skinned your knee, and laughed as he walked off. 

Then, just as he went to turn, his twin beside him, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else; Atsumu had turned to you, a glint in his eyes. “You’re just a freak. No wonder no one likes you.”

It just never really ended after that.

But when you got home that day, brushing your mothers concerned hands away as she reached for your knee, you’d sat on your bed and looked at your arm only to see those exact same words.

Those cruel, cruel words, and wondered, how unlucky you must be to have a soulmate that hates you.

-

“Do you want to go to the game tonight?”

You blink, pulled from your thoughts at the sound of Misaki’s words. With a drawl, lips pulled downwards, you turn to her with a quirked brow. “No.” You say simply, shaking your head.

“Come on,” she huffs, head falling into the palms of her hands with a huff, “you never want to go to anything.”

You sigh. “That’s not true. I let you drag me lots of places.”

“You do not.”

“I do too.”

She pouts at you, lips pursed, eyes set into a teasing glare as she takes another bite out of her lunch. “Our volleyball team is supposed to be so good, though,” she whines, trying to appear nonchalant (though very much failing), as she lets her eyes wander on anything but you. “One of the best, actually. They make it to nationals every year and--”

“And they have their own cheer squad,” you cut in, “good for them.��

“Y/N.”

“What?”

She just glares at you.

“If you want to go so bad, take one of your other friends,” you shrug, brushing her off. “I’m not your only friend.”

“Yes, but you’re my best friend,” she smiles, sickly sweet, all bright eyed and twinkling and you sigh, once again, at the look she sends you. “And I only want to go with you.”

Staring at her for a moment, you laugh; “you’re good.”

And her eyes brighten, hope flooding them; “you’ll go, then?”

“I never said that.” She deflates, “but... sure.”

“Eeee~!” She jumps to a stand, reaching across the table to grab your hands, shaking them with a bright laugh. “Yes, yes, yes! You won’t regret this, Y/N/N, we’re going to have so much fun!”

I’m sure, you can’t help but think. It’ll be so fun to watch him show off.

And even though you don’t say it aloud, Misaki seems to just know.

“Atsumu-san will be there too.”

“He is apart of the team.”

“Maybe you could even try to--”

“He doesn’t want to talk to me,” you cut in, voice sharp, maybe a little more sharp then you mean to be. At the look Misaki sends you, you frown at the guilt that floods you, the hurt look in her eyes, before softening your voice. “Atsumu hates me, Saki. I’ve told you this.”

“But-But that was when you were kids--!”

“And he hasn’t talked to me since.”

Her shoulders fall, and she doesn’t argue after that.

Inhaling deeply, you reach across the table, taking her hand in your own like she had moments ago, though gently and squeeze it softly. It pulls her eyes on you, and smiling gently, you add; “I appreciate you, Saki, and what you’re trying to do. And I love that you want me to be happy, but I don’t need my soulmate to be.”

“You say that,” she frowns, “but you hardly ever smile...”

And she says the words softly, carefully, not wanting to hurt you, but you can’t ignore the pang in your heart at her words. Your hand slips from hers as the words repeat in your mind, and you think of all those years ago, the constant, relentless, cruel teasing that you’d endured from the person that was meant to be your one and only.

You realize, Misaki’s completely right -- you weren’t happy. And it was silly to pretend that you were.

“Yeah, well,” you whisper, and it’s like ironic and cruel perfect timing that has Atsumu walking into the lunchroom at that exact moment, surrounded by his friends, laughing. He hasn’t a care in the world, head thrown back with a laugh as passing girls flock towards him.

“That doesn’t matter to him.”

-

“Damn you, Misaki.”

Huffing out the words, followed by a curse, as yet another call to your best friend is all but ignored, you grit your teeth.

Where the hell could she have gone?

One second she was right beside you, laughing and cheering as Inarizaki took an already expected win. And then you’d run to go to the bathroom for a minute, only to find the girl had absolutely disappeared on you. Seriously, she was no where. And it didn’t help that the gym was absolutely flooded with other people that you couldn’t properly see anyone.

“I swear to Kami, Misaki, when I find--”

“--Are you okay?”

You freeze. 

No. Please, anyone but him.

A hand falls on your shoulder, spinning you round and of course, it is him; Atsumu Miya in all his glory, smiling down at you. And then, as you meet his gaze, his own falters, and his brows furrow and the next words that leave his lips sting more then they probably should.

“Y/N? Y/L/N Y/N?” He laughs, shaking his head, “I didn’t know you went to Inarizaki.”

Yeah, ouch.

You’ve only been in the same school as him since literally elementary.

But apparently, after he got bored of bullying you, he also got bored of acknowledging your presence at all.

You don’t say anything, you can’t. Words feel like they’re lodged at the back of your throat, and it suddenly feels like you can’t breathe. All the people feel like too much all of a sudden, and you’re desperate to get away. You’ll apologize to Misaki later, but you need to leave. You turn, moving to run off, because you just want to get out of there, but then, he reaches for you and--

“Don’t touch me!”

People stop, pausing for a moment at your booming voice, all eyes on you as Atsumu pulls back like you’ve physically slapped him, shock clear on his face.

And then you turn, once more, and walk off before he can say anything else.

You don’t see the frown on his face, don’t see the way he glances down at his arm, nor the realization that dawns on him then and there.

-

“You just left me.”

“Technically you left me first.”

“Suna-kun wanted to talk to me.”

“Then, it’s your fault.”

“How is it my fault?”

Pausing, you turn to Misaki; “I sent you a text.”

She blinks at you. “I thought you’d been kidnapped! Or worse, killed!”

“Now, you’re being dramatic.”

“Y/N/N!”

Pausing by your locker, you turn to her; “I’m sorry, I just... I had to get--”

“Y/N!”

What in the world--

“Is that--”

“I know who it is, Saki.”

“Okay,” she breathes, “why is he walking our way? Why is he calling for you?”

“I don’t know!” You stress, turning to her with wide, panicked eyes. “Hide me!”

“How in the world am I--”

“Y/N,” Atsumu smiles, finally reaching you.

You freeze.

Misaki stares at you, then Atsumu, then, with a light nudge, turns; “w-well,” she laughs, “I should really get going. Have fun, you two!” And she promptly ignores the absolutely terrified look you send her.

You’re so going to kill her.

Later. Definitely later, when you manage to escape Atsumu, somehow, yet again--

“I’m so glad I found you.”

Turning to him, you swallow thickly.

“I tried to find you yesterday, but I couldn’t and I got scared that--”

“What do you want.”

You’re blunt, more blunt then you mean to be. But you don’t want this mindless chatter, whatever it means, and you’re absolutely desperate to get away that you don’t even care if talking like that makes him mad. You used to deal with it as a kid all the time anyways, so...

“Well, I just wanted to catch up,” he laughs, lightly, a little too airy. Is he... nervous? “We haven’t talked since we were kids, so--”

“You mean when you used to bully me?”

You have no idea where this confidence is coming from.

“I’d hardly call it bullying--”

“I used to come home in bruises because of you,” you whisper, avoiding his gaze as you hug yourself. You’re uncomfortable. You want to leave, you need to leave. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter. I have to--”

He grabs you, your entire body going cold at the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your arm. On one hand, it’s like you can feel... this electric shiver run through your entire being and you figure it’s because of this supposed connection the two of you are supposed to have. But on the other hand, it fills you with such terror, that you almost want to cry.

“I didn’t know.”

But his words makes all that go away, and instead you’re just confused.

“What?”

“I didn’t know that we were... you know.”

Blinking, you finally meet his gaze head on. “How could you have not known?”

“You... You never said anything.”

Shaking your head, you rip your arm from his grasp. “That day, when I introduced myself--”

“You weren’t talking to me,” he argues, “not directly, at least. And you were always so quiet when I’d...-- But then, yesterday, when I grabbed you, well--” He holds his hand out towards you, and sure enough the words written on his arm are:

don’t touch me!

So, apparently he never did know.

It doesn’t change anything. How could it?

Him not knowing doesn’t excuse bullying you. Doesn’t erase everything he did.

It could never.

“What to know what my words are?” Practically yanking the sleeve of your sweater up your arm, you thrust it towards Atsumu, gaze harsh. And his eyes slowly flicker downwards, frowning as he reads the words.

You’re just a freak. No wonder no one likes you.

And the stupid guilty look on his face pisses you off even more.

“I want nothing to do with you,” you spit, “so just leave me alone.”

-

What the hell is Atsumu Miya doing at your front door.

“I was hoping you still lived here.”

Pausing, you sigh. “You don’t give up do you?”

Grinning, Atsumu rubs the back of his neck, “unfortunately not.”

Sighing, you let your hand fall on your hip, tilting your head to the side curiously. “So what, you know I’m your soulmate now and you want to walk me to school?”

There’s a nervous smile on his face, one that seems odd on him, as he laughs lightly. “Yeah?”

Rolling your eyes, you brush past him, “whatever.”

But he follows, and you don’t argue.

-

“Let me grab those for you!”

With a blink, the stack of textbooks in your hands is suddenly gone and in another’s. You sigh when you meet Atsumu’s familiar gaze.

“You don’t have to do that, Miya-san.”

“I want to,” he shrugs simply, and you pointedly ignore Misaki’s laugh from beside you. “And, it’s Atsumu.”

“What?”

He meets your eyes, smiling; “call me Atsumu.”

Misaki nudges you with her elbow, pulling your gaze on her momentarily as she grins brightly. Sighing, you turn back to Atsumu, watching as he gently places the textbooks down in the locker you’d just opened. Turning to walk off with a grin, clearly proud of himself.

“Thank you, Miya-san.”

“Atsumu!” He calls over his shoulder.

“Well,” Misaki adds after a moment, “that was sweet~!”

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. “Yeah, yeah.”

-

“I would like you to come to my game.”

Staring up at Atsumu, you blink.

“Please.”

Licking your lips, clasp your hands together behind your back; “won’t I be an embarrassment?”

“No.” And he says it quickly, barely letting you finish your sentence, adamantly shaking his head. “No, you could never.”

I used to be.

But you don’t say that.

“Okay,” you heed, hating the butterflies that flood your stomach at the bright grin that curls onto his lips. “I’ll think about it.”

“Yes!”

-

“Congratulations on the win, Atsumu-san.”

“Y/N/N, you came!”

It’s hard to fight back the blush that threatens to grow on your cheeks at the smile he sends you. Hard to ignore the way your heart flutters as he calls you by that stupid nickname that he’d picked up from Misaki. And hard to forget the way everything screams in you for him at the way his eyes sparkle as he looks down at you.

“Misaki dragged me,” you gesture behind yourself where you know your friend is, shaking your head at the bright grin she sends the two of you.

“Still,” he nods, eyes softening as he looks down at you; “you came.”

“Yes, well,” tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly feeling nervous, you shuffle on your feet. “I should be going now. Congratulations again on the--”

You don’t make it two steps before he’s wrapped a hand around your wrist, tugged you into him and slipped the other around your waist. You’re flush against him, a huff of surprise leaves your lips as you blink up at the boy, trying to ignore the way it feels like your body has ignited with electricity at just the simple touch of him.

And then his fingers are ghosting across your cheek, brushing back loose hair, and pulling your gaze solely on him, where you can’t seem to look away as everything just... fades away. The crowded gym suddenly feels empty, and everything is quiet as you stare up at him.

You also note that you feel at ease at his touch.

“I never said sorry.”

Lips parting, you swallow thickly; “it’s okay--”

“No, it isn’t,” he whispers, resting his forehead against your own, and it feels like you might melt right there at the feeling of his warm breath on you. “None of what I did was okay.”

“Atsumu...”

“I’m so sorry...”

You relax in his touch, hands moving to fall on his shoulders, where you squeeze, eyes falling to his lips before flickering back up to his own.

“It’s okay...”

“...I want to kiss you,” he whispers, voice gentle, nervous. “Is that okay?”

You nod, feeling the words slip out all on their own; “please.”

And he obliges and suddenly everything just makes sense, just works, and all that gushing Misaki used to go on about about how wonderful soulmates are you completely agree with. Having Atsumu so close, having his warm touch on you, having his lips molding against your own, barely a breaths away, feels so incredibly amazing and right that you wonder how you’d ever existed without him.

He makes up for it all then. None of it matters any more, not the teasing, not the pushing and shoving, nor the tears that would follow.

It’s all worth it for this one moment now.

-

a little ooc? maybe?

whoops.

[burntmcnuggies]

Dabi NSFW Alphabet

Sexual content ahead! :D please don’t read if it makes you at all uncomfortable and you are not over 18+ thank you!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) He’s a sadistic fuck, and if you need something, he won’t be a gentlemen about it. “Go get it yourself. You’ve got legs.” Even if your legs are feeling like jelly from the harsh fucking he’d just done on you, he still won’t go get it for you. Then when you get back... “Hey, think you could get me some water too?” At that point you’ll throw the water you got for yourself at his face, grab your underwear and lock yourself in the shower. When you come out there’s usually a water bottle waiting for you. He just likes seeing you angry.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) since his skin is burnt up, he doesn’t find himself attractive, and has been called a freak and ugly multiple times. He likes his hands. His hands are where his flames come from and even if he thinks he’s weak, he knows his flames are very powerful. He likes your smile. Cheesy i know. In his dark world your smile brightens up everything, and gives him strength to keep pushing harder. You also support his dream, and when you smile. He knows you’re always by his side even when you aren’t physically.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) He likes to spread his cum all over you, and cum in your mouth. He likes to look down on you while you’re on your knees in front of him and praise you. “Awe would you look at that? The princess is dirty. This look suits you better.” And when he cums on your back or your stomach, he’ll spread it around with your hand and heat up his hand s little to make you squirm at the feeling of his cum and the heat.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He’s sadistic, and his dirty secret is that he wants to burn you. He wants to hold your hips and permanently mark your body with his hands. When he sees you naked, and then looks down at the scarred hand prints on your hips, it’ll make his chest full with pride. It’ll also make a grin spread across his face. “Looks good. Soon enough we’ll match.” Thats a very romantic coming from Dabi.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) He’s a villain, and because of his scars he runs off everyone. Nobody thinks he’s attractive. But he’s had at minimum one or two experiences, so he’s not a god, but he knows what he’s doing. There’s no scaring on his love parts. That’s a plus. Meeting you though, he’s gotten to unleash his wild side.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) doggy. Definitely. He will grab your hips with one hand and brutally slam into you while his other hand is around your neck, squeezing it tightly while you beg and choke on your saliva and moans. He’s also a fan of seeing you on top. Laying on his back with his arms behind his head watching you use him to pleasure yourself. It really gets him off.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) seriously. Never goofy. The thing he does is tease you, mock you, and degrade you, even though he doesn’t mean any of it.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) He keeps it very well shaved. You never see any stubble ever, it’s almost like he shaves it everyday. His hair colors black right? So why would there be any reason to constantly shave... unless? It’s naturally red and doesn’t want you to know it? :o

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) he’s a villain, and is not used to being a nice guy. Dating you has made him yearn more for intimacy, but he’s still not affectionate during sex. If he’s upset he’ll be more rough and demanding. If he’s in a good mood he’ll occasionally kiss your shoulders and your hands. Always during sex though, he’ll make out heavily with you. Whether it’s angry or loving.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) He has other things to focus on rather than sex. He’s usually only ever turned on if you’re there with him doing something lewd, or bending over for him to get a sexy view of your ass. If he does get horny, he’ll tease you after he’s finished. By sending you a text and a teasing picture of his softening cock in is hand with cum spread on his rough hands. “You’re not doing your job. I might have to fire you. Literally.” Of course this is a joke just to get under your skin.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Fireplay, Master/Slave, sadist, smacking you (not in an abusive way like spanking, etc.) and likes risk. He’s also not opposed to exhibitionism. If he’s horny and you’re casually talking to Toga or Twice or having a drink with Shigaraki, he will shamelessly pull your pants down and start right there. He wants to use his flames and touch you all over until you’re crying that it hurts and begging him to stop. He likes hurting you, but knows when you’re extremely serious or when you’re just in the moment.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) anywhere. He doesn’t care. Unless it’s somewhere extremely public with like civilians where they can see and recognize him. He’s a villain after all. People know his face. He doesn’t wanna go to jail for having sex with you in public. He’d rather go to jail for doing a sinister crime. You always help him with getting away though. Sure you’re a good person and not a villain, but you still love the man. You understand his will to follow stains ideology. You agree. Just not with the killing part. He also likes to do it in the bedroom and especially in the bath. Feeling warm water on his scarred skin relaxes him.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) your ass gets him going, and your waist. He loves dropping things on purpose and watching you bend over to pick it up. He gets especially hard when you’re wearing a skirt and he can see your panties. Another turn on is when you’re wearing a dress or skirt with no panties on underneath. It gets him angry when you’re out in public like that, but then he punishes you and makes you leave it on. Eventually, he’ll burn the skirt off.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) daddy kink, he has a bad experience with his father so he doesn’t want to be reminded. Threesomes. He’s a bit possessive over you. You’re probably the only good thing in his life and the only person who’s ever stood beside him through every fucked up thing he did. If you did have a threesome, he would have to kill whoever touched you. He’d also be one of those people to get very irritated hearing about your exes and want to kill them.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) receiving. Like I said before, Dabi is very sadistic and likes to face fuck you. You have to learn how to not have a gag reflex when you decide to engage sexually with the villain. He’ll occasionally give it to you. He’s really good at it, but feels you won’t enjoy it due to his scarred skin. However, you love feeling those staples near his mouth just rub against you giving you a cool sensation. Never gets old.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) He’s always fast and rough, unless he wants to tease you and make you beg for it. Then he’ll be slow, but harsher than before. Expect your thighs or ass to be red and flushed when he’s done. Sometimes when he’s upset he’ll just ignore foreplay and fuck you as hard as he can to rid himself of his angry thoughts. When you’re upset he’ll try to take things a bit slower, giving you kisses and praising you, which is a bit rare.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) not opposed to them. But doesn’t do it often. You’re usually away at work while he’s doing villainous stuff, and at night is when you both really get frisky. If you’re about to go to work and he breaks into your house (he has a key) he’ll push you against the wall after you’re already dressed, groomed, and clean. Afterwards, he’ll leave and say thanks, then demand you come see him later. You’re always late to work when that happens.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) he’s willing to try things at least once. As long as you’re ok with it. He’s gonna tell you what he’s thinking about first and if you’re seriously opposed to it, he won’t, but if there’s a slight on the rail chance, he’ll try and manipulate you to do it. The sex is still always amazing.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) probably two or three. He lasts a long time. Usually you’ll have came about two or three times before he even cums once. He degrades you about how you don’t make him cum quickly and that you’re too slow. “Better catch up if you wanna keep rollin’ with me, sweetheart.” He mock you, but he loves you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) will never let you use any on him. He’d turn whatever it was to ash before it happened. He’s bought toys for you. Sometimes when you go out together to the mall and he’s wearing his big baggy jacket and some glasses to hide his face, he’ll sneakily slide his hands in your pants or up your skirt and slip a vibrator inside and turn it on. It’s his favorite thing to do to make you angry and frustrated.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) he loves to tease you. If you’ve done something to especially piss him off, sometimes he’ll sneak into your house, or visit you at work looking shady as fuck and over stimulate you until you’re right on the edge of cumming. Then he’ll leave. He passively teases you a lot. “I’m so sore from work... ugh.” “I know something that’ll make you even sorer. Then you won’t be bitching about work and only focusing on me.” He gets jealous.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) very quiet, but will tease you by moaning and whispering your name in your ear while he fucks you. He grunts and pants a lot, groaning occasionally and making a sly comment on you tightening around him. “Oh, isn’t that something? You’re tightening around me. Are you getting close, sweetheart?” Something that really gets him moaning is when you roughly kiss his scarred skin where his staples are. He’s a little sensitive there and gets embarrassed when you tell him he’s beautiful. He won’t believe you, but do it anyways.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) likes to buy you clothes. And by buy. I mean steal. Sometimes he rips your panties and you mourn the loss of one of your favorite pairs of panties. You’d think he would steal only sexy underwear. But he mainly tried to get stuff you’re going to be comfortable in. And when you’re about to do it, and he’s taking off your panties and he notices it’s the ones he got you, he’ll feel happy, and won’t rip or burn that pair off. He also likes to get you nice work clothes and jewelry. That way when people see the new outfits you can brag about it and tell them your boyfriend “bought” it for you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) He’s pretty big. He’s above average and has girth to him. Sure he hasn’t had a whole lot of experience, but god, sex with him made you feel a certain way. If he ever cums inside you and you stand up afterwards, it’s all coming out, he stretches you perfectly. There’s also no scars or piercings down there.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) this dude has a very naughty mind when it comes to you. He has a very high sex drive for you. He’s never been interested in sex. He usually had more important things to do. Like committing crimes, taunting heroes, and carrying out orders from Shigaraki as the commander of an elite team of villains.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) he doesn’t get a lot of sleep, but usually after sex he gets pretty tired. He’ll be laying with you in bed both completely naked under the covers. Your head will be on his chest and he’ll have his arm around you on his back. He’ll nod off and try to stay awake, but eventually he’ll be out like a light. It’s always funny watching him try to stay awake and then falling asleep with his head lulling to the side with his lips parted. It’s very cute.

[aaronhart93]

text || aarotin

Discord text thread featuring: Aaron & @quentindelancret

When: January 22nd, early morning into early evening

Mentions: @romanbeckett @davieslandon

Description: Aaron and Quentin fight about Quentin’s drug addiction 

Trigger Warnings: addiction mentions, arguing

Quentin.

you okay baby?

I haven’t heard from you and I just wanted to check in. I love you

Aaron.

I love you too and miss you

Des has just been cranky all night.

Quentin.

oh man, I’m sorry baby. Is there anything I can do to help? I know it’s late but I can bring breakfast in the morning or anything you need

Aaron.

I think she's sick

i have to play the morning by ear. Depends on how she wakes up

Quentin.

okay baby. I hope she’s not sick though. Just let me know and I’ll help out any way that I can

Aaron.

thank you baby. I miss you

Quentin.

I miss you toooo

Aaron.

miss you more

Quentin.

Impossible. I’ve been thinking about you all day. I miss your scent

Aaron.

you have my hoodies. put one on babe

are you at home?

Quentin.

I already did

I am home. I’m supposed to go snuggle Romie but Delilah brought over drugs and now I’m too hyper for life lol

Aaron.

oooo yeah i was gonna ask you to go check on him...but it's okay

Quentin.

I will. I’m just trying to chill out for a minute. He’s gonna leave a key for me

Aaron.

I mean if you’re high...maybe just stay home

Quentin.

uhmm okay

Aaron.

i just dont want you leaving the house so late

Quentin.

I know

I’m sorry

Aaron.

i just....if you knew you were going to go over to his place to take care of him...why would you get high

Quentin.

I didn’t know exactly. He said he was gonna sleep but then he couldn’t, and Delilah was upset and I told her she could come over and talk. Then she had coke and I just... I’m sorry

please don’t be mad at me

Aaron.

im not mad im just

idk

feel some type of way about it

Quentin.

about the coke?

Aaron.

not necessarily. the fact that our partner is sick....you knew i had des tonight so couldn't go over there...i guess i just figured you'd be a little more responsible

it's okay...i dont want you to be worrying about these things anyway

ill take care of both of you.

Quentin.

I can be responsible Aaron. I thought he was gonna sleep. I’m still gonna go over there and take care of him. You both come before anything else for me and I’m sorry I misstepped. But I’m not gonna just leave him hanging.

Aaron.

even if he fell asleep and woke up and needed something...seriously though. i want you to have fun and live your life, im sorry i brought it up

Quentin.

Aaron.. stop it. What is going on with you? I’m fine. I can go over there right now. But you seem... on edge. Are you okay?

I wanna have fun and live my life with you and Roman. I fucked up okay? But I feel like there is something else nothing you

Aaron.

i fought with Landon the other day

Des might be sick

work sucked today and im stressed about Ro

im sorry

Quentin.

baby, I’m sorry. I know the whole Landon situation sucks. I wish I could fix it for you. I know I made things shittier before but I don’t wanna do that. I wanna be here for you. I can come see you after I check on Roman? Help you with Des and give you a massage. I’m worried about you

I’m coming. I won’t take no for an answer. I’m gonna give you a massage and get you in bed. Then I’ll go see Romie. I wanna be there for you both

Aaron.

Quentin, I love you. and thank you....I don't know how to tell you this but...I don't want you around Des if you've been using tonight.

Quentin.

Aaron.

Fine, I’m not gonna argue with you. See you tomorrow then?

Aaron.

yeah

Quentin.

okay

I’m sorry

Aaron.

im not mad

Quentin.

It’s okay. I understand.

I love you

Aaron.

dont be upset

Quentin.

of course I’m upset. I want to be there for you and I can’t

Aaron.

im okay, Q.

Quentin.

that’s not the point

I’m sorry I fucked up. I know you don’t want an addict around Des and that’s my fault

Aaron.

you're sick, i can help you

Quentin.

I’m sick?

Aaron.

addiction...its a diseae

disease

Quentin.

wow, Aaron.

yeah, I don’t wanna talk about this right now

Aaron.

you...brought it up...

Quentin.

yeah, I know. I guess I just didn’t really think you would agree with me

Aaron.

that i dont want someone on drugs around Des? Quentin...

you are making this into something it isnt

Quentin.

no, that you think I’m sick and need help.

I understand you not wanting me around Des. But it’s not like I’d ever hurt her

Aaron.

i know you would never and I'd never keep her from you

just sober up...and we'll talk in the morning i guess

Quentin.

I don’t even know what to say

I’m just sorry I’ve been such a burden.

yeah, we will talk tomorrow

Aaron.

back up

you're not a burden

Quentin, stop making things up in your head

Quentin.

I feel like I have been.

I don’t wanna add any more stress for you

Aaron.

Quentin, listen to me.

i cannot live without you.

Okay?

Quentin.

okay.

I’m just sorry

Aaron.

dont be. im sorry i was harsh

Quentin.

it’s fine.

I love you

Aaron.

i love you too. bring me breakfast in the morning??

Quentin.

of course. Let me know if you need any cough medicine or anything when Des gets up

Aaron.

thank you, my love

goodnight

Quentin.

anytime. Goodnight baby

early evening...

Quentin.

I’m sorry about last night

I’m trying to do better

Aaron.

it was my fault. Don’t worry about it

Quentin.

it wasn’t your fault. You told me how it is and I’ll fix it

Aaron.

okay

Quentin.

good talk

Aaron.

well do you wanna keep talking about it

Quentin.

Nope, I really don’t.

Aaron.

I don’t know what else to say because I don’t either

Quentin.

I’ll just leave you alone

Aaron.

or like we could talk about literally anything else

I missed you today, okay?

Quentin.

yeah, I missed you too

Aaron.

like a lot

I pulled Des from school and had a day with her

it was nice

Quentin.

that sounds fun

Aaron.

it was

Quentin.

I’ll let you get back to it then

Aaron.

oh okay

I love you

Quentin.

you too

Aaron.

Quentin

I’m sorry okay?

Quentin.

it’s fine. I’m really just moody today.

I’m trying to stay away from the happy pills ya know?

Aaron.

I don’t want you to do something that you’re not ready for. If you aren’t ready to stay off of them, then it’s okay

Quentin.

the thing is Aaron, I’m never gonna be ready. I take molly literally every day. Most times people can’t even tell it’s that bad.  But I know it bothers you and Roman and I’m done

Aaron.

that’s brave

and makes me happy. That’s one of the reasons i know you love me

Quentin.

of course I love you

Aaron.

I know

Quentin.

I’m just so sick of disappointing you

Aaron.

I’m not going anywhere okay?

Quentin.

yeah

Aaron.

I’m serious

Quentin.

okay

Aaron.

are you mad at me

Quentin.

no I’m not mad. I just don’t feel like we’re as close as we used to be

Aaron.

because of an argument?

Quentin.

No not because of an argument Aaron

because you just seem distant all the time

Aaron.

I...

im sorry. It’s not on purpose

Quentin.

it’s fine

Aaron.

how can I be better

Quentin.

I’m just gonna take a few days to myself

Aaron.

oh okay

Quentin.

I don’t want to make anything worse by staying here

I get so all over the place with my emotions and without drugs I’m scared of what I might say or do

Aaron.

maybe tell your doctor? For medicine?

Quentin.

I don’t have a doctor

and I don’t want one honestly

they just make me relive shit I don’t want to and that isn’t gonna help anything

Aaron.

I can get you into a primary care doctor with no issue

not a therapist. Just a regular doctor

Quentin. What have I done wrong? It’s obviously something

Quentin.

you didn’t do anything. It’s just me.

Aaron.

tell me how I can help

Quentin.

my expectations and my delusions of how I thought things would be. It’s fine, I’ll handle it, I’ll make it better

Aaron.

how did you think things would be?

Quentin.

different

Aaron.

well what can we do better baby

I will do anything for you

Quentin.

it’s not you. I’m pretty sure it’s all me

ya know.. how I get in my head and shit

Aaron.

what can I do for you when you get in your head

to help

Quentin.

I don’t know. You can’t fix me. It doesn’t work like that

I’m just, I’m tired.

Aaron.

well now I’m scared

Quentin.

of what?

don’t be scared Aaron. I love you. I just, I can’t see you right now. But soon.. okay?

two days. That’s it.

Aaron.

where are you going

why can’t you see me

Quentin.

I’m just gonna go see my brother I think. Maybe fix things with him.

I can’t see you because I know if I do I’ll change my mind about taking some time away

but it’s okay, I wanna see you. Come see me

Aaron.

alright I’m coming

Quentin.

good. I love you

Aaron.

I love you so fucking much

Quentin.

the feeling is very mutual baby

I promise it’s gonna be okay. Alright? I just need to get my head right

Aaron.

okay

Quentin.

and it’s not your fault.

Aaron.

Idk

Quentin.

its me, I swear it’s me. That sounds cliche but it really is. I’m gonna fix it

I mean, honestly. All I can think about right now is how I wanna jump on you when I see you and never let go. But I need to stop being so closed off. I know that just makes you closed off and then I blame you. But it’s not you. You just .. you have this effect on me that really scares the shit out of me

Aaron.

is that effect a bad thing?

Quentin.

uhmmm

I don’t know. Is it?

Aaron.

I don’t know. Is it a good scare or bad scare

Quentin.

both

Aaron.

how do I scare you?

Quentin.

It’s like... you’re so out of my league and I don’t wanna do or say anything to make you leave. I’m like, I’m a lot, and I know I can be. It just scares me that makes I’m too much sometimes

Aaron.

I am not out of your league.

you are 1 of 2 of the hottest men in Kingsboro and I have both of them lol

Quentin.

you are totally out of my league. You’re like, God, I can’t even put you into words. Then there’s me. Partying, acting crazy, doing stupid shit. Idk. It’s like I’m an embarrassment next to you. But I mean, if I’m that hot I must not be so bad lol

you’re also like.. so hot! I can’t breathe lol

[multiparadise]

not worth it anymore ✦ g. dolan

summary: being asked to be grayson dolan’s girlfriend wasn’t the easiest because for starters it was going to be a relationship for the camera’s, just a show for the fan’s. and secondly, it already sucked that the guy who made your heart beat like crazy had a hatred towards you and can barely stand being in the same room as you and sometimes the pain is not worth it anymore.

warnings: lots of angst, grayson being a really mean person, and lots of heart break.

cue the hand signal from ethan. the lights were bright, slightly blinding your vision as you intertwined your fingers with the man next to you. a big smile on your face. you looked happy. you knew you did. you knew this would trick whoever was behind the screen watching this video. the man, grayson, smiled down at you and for a second you thought it was real too. just a happy couple. 

“well guys, should i confess the obvious now?” grayson said to the fans while looking in the camera. “you guys were absolutely correct, (your ship name) is real. and i’m sorry we kept it from you, but i hope you guys can see how in love i am with her. and maybe you’ll learn to love her just as much as me.” 

another cue, he pressed his lips to your cheek. you blushed. cleared your throat and spoke the first time during the duration of this video. “i love him so much, grayson dolan you are my everything and i am so thankful for these past 7 months. thank you for making me happy.” 

signal the last cue. the two of you shared a kiss, it was quick but it was enough. it was enough to convince them, but it was enough for you to remember the way they felt. 

then the recording stopped after the outro. ethan told you two that you did great and the chemistry even looked real to him. this caused your heart to flutter as you felt the chemistry was real too. how can someone even deny it? there has to be something there. but you were wrong again. you watched as grayson rolled his eyes, wiping his lips on the back of his hand. a disgusted, disturbed look etched on his face. he let out a harsh laugh before getting out “i swear to god if we have to kiss one more time i’m gonna punch the wall.” 

you didn’t need a cue for this, this was real. a heartbreak in the moment was real. you didn’t need someone to tell you how to act or how to feel because this was reality, this was real. the man you’ve given all your heart to had no clue he owned it and didn’t care about the power he had over it either. 

the three of you went your separate ways after that comment from grayson. you sighed, dragging yourself to the front door leaving their home knowing you’d have to come back in a few days to record another video updating the fans about your wonderful, perfect relationship. 

once you got home you received a text message from ethan apologizing for grayson’s words because to him it wasn’t a secret that you loved grayson. and at times it was a blessing and a curse that he knew. you messaged him back stating that it was okay, it’s always okay (when it’s not) and that he should’t be apologizing but you still appreciated it anyways. 

three days pass by and your social media has been blowing up none stop with comments and edits of you and your ‘boyfriend’ grayson. and due to discussions ahead of times the two of you would repost things from fans, comment hearts, stupid shit like “i love him so much” and “she’s my everything” and even talking about each other in a lovey dovey way on snapchat to make them thing that the distance between you two is so fucking painful. 

it was, at least for you. 

you find yourself at their house later that day, ethan recording a live video. cue this, cue that. you became used to it. the acting was natural for you. and you had to admit that grayson was a damn good actor, or maybe he did have feelings for you. and you were a fool that kept telling yourself that. 

during this live Q&A a fan had asked what was your favorite thing about each other. you smiled, feeling your heart flutter. “my favorite thing about grayson is everything. he’s phenomenal at everything he does. and also i have no complaints that he cooks for me and he builds things for us all the time! maybe he’ll build our future house with a great view we can look over to as we wake up and cuddle in the morning.” grayson smiled too and that was enough to send your heart to beat like crazy. “that sounds fucking awesome, i would love that. and i would even build a crib for a nursery because of course we’re going to have mini us running around.” 

cue the butterflies, cue the genuine smile, and cue the love you have for him. 

the video was coming to an end as you both said goodbye, holding hands glancing over at ethan as he had a big smile on his face thinking that maybe grayson did have feelings for you his (ethan’s) best friend but he was too stubborn and hurt from past shit to admit it. 

the lights die down, the moon was shining in the night sky, a blush etched unto your cheeks grayson rips his hand away. turning to you, “and don’t think we’d ever hook up. got it?” and the venom dripping in his voice was enough to set you straight. 

there was no way he loved you. 

for some reason you stuck around, but it wasn’t for long. it was about a month after the first video announcing your ‘relationship’ when grayson found you sitting on the guest bedroom’s bed with tears streaming down your cheeks painful sobs crawling it’s way out. he hesitated, “are you okay?” and that ticked you off. you stood up, pain in your eyes and grayson could see it. he could see the raw emotion you held and realized this was the first time he actually looked into your (eye color) eyes. they were mesmerizing. 

“shut up!” you yelled at him catching him off guard. “just stop, please i am begging you. stop. don’t act like you care, because you don’t. you know you don’t! so why fucking bother?!” 

“i-” he started but couldn’t get much out as you sobbed once again. “no, grayson. don’t. just fucking don’t. whatever you have to say i don’t care. tell me how terrible it is, how terrible it would be to date me. but guess what grayson we’re not actually together! i don’t see why after every single video you have to remind me of that. to tell me how horrible it is for you to act like your with me, to tell me how bad it would be for anybody. do you know how much that hurts?”

no he didn’t know. 

he didn’t know how much it hurt. 

and he stayed silent as you poured out all your feelings, all your sadness on him. 

“i can’t-” you choked out, “i can’t do this anymore. this pain is not worth it anymore your hatred for me is too much. if you hate me so much then why even fake a relationship with me? is it because you know you’d never fall for me? because if so, congratulations, congratulations to the fact that i’m so horrible. right grayson? wasn’t that what you said after last nights video?” 

he was still silent, but tears welled up in his eyes feeling mad with himself to become such a jerk to someone who was never a jerk to him before. he watches you tug on a suitcase he didn’t notice until know. he felt his heart being tugged, urgently looking around for ethan to give him his lines, a cue, something but ethan wasn’t there because this was reality. 

it wasn’t until you turned around at the front door staring deep into his eyes did he realize how horrible he was and how much he loved you but it was too late as you whispered, throat sore from the screaming, too tired to even show anger with him. just hurt. “you’re the most selfish man i have ever met grayson bailey dolan but i guess i’m the biggest fool i’ve ever met because through all the pain, i loved you. but not anymore.”

and then, you left.

author’s note: hello, thank you for reading this. this is my first imagine here on this account. feedback would be appreciated, both negative and positive. i am here to improve with my writing. i write about the dolan twins and possibly more to come.

[h-sleepingirl]

EEEHU + Scenes From A Hypnotic Skype Call 3/29/20

This is a writing about my weekend. This is a writing about EEEHU, and a writing about a Skype date. They are very different in tone, but inevitably interconnected. This is a writing I debated on doing -- on how to express it, and whether or not I should share it.This is a writing that starts very hard, but gets easier. 

I was a part of two classes on Saturday. I thought that would be easy; I had been kicking myself for not submitting more and was very close to deciding to put on an unconference class. 

It was not easy. 

I didn't sleep well that night, and haven't been sleeping well in general. Since shifting my work, I felt like my sleep should be pretty stable, since I work on my own schedule now. But I've been staying up late and waking up early. It's a bad pattern, and it was the second day in a 5hr sleep cycle. 

I was already drained, and I had a lot to juggle to get everything running smoothly Saturday morning. It was taxing and I was exhausted. I was snapping at stupid things, uncharacteristically. I kept saying, with forced glee, "It's just like a real con! I'm sleep deprived and stressed!"

But once we got started, the first class with MrDream went well, and I enjoyed it. The audience was incredibly generous towards both him and me. I was so pleased at how many people were getting information and how many people said that they loved my trance face, although I had to force down a little bit of juvenile bitterness that we couldn’t just monopolize the class with play and go as hard as we usually do. There were 140ish people in the class -- a lot. We did Q&A to wrap up, and then I had to run to do tech testing for the podcast.

What I couldn’t do was give MrDream a hug after the class. What I couldn’t do was walk down the hotel hallway to see him and decompress. What I couldn’t do was hang around and chat with attendees in the lobby and in the con spaces.

I felt that immensely, stinging, but I had to push it down, because I had more to do.

The podcast, despite some inevitable technical issues, went well enough. By that point, I was feeling incredibly drained, and hadn’t been able to eat more than some yogurt for the majority of the day because of feeling crappy from not sleeping. It went for 2 hours -- very long, and we had no breaks. I was on autopilot. I had a good time, but felt almost dissociated, far away from myself.

I turned off the meeting, and I was suddenly in my bed, alone, just with cc, waiting for the audio to save.

I could not go see MrDream. I could not go see my friends. I could not get a hug. I could not text someone to ask where the party was and then stay up until 4am doing hypnosis and talking bullshit.

I started crying -- not weeping, not choking out tears, but wailing, hard crying.

It was the build-up of nearly a month of not processing that life, right now, is different. I cannot see my loved ones. I cannot see my community. EEEHU was a monstrous effort by its organizers which I applaud, and am so dearly happy that so many people enjoyed it, but for me, it was a harsh reminder that it was not a con in the way that I needed, and that I will not get that in the foreseeable future.

And I can’t see MrDream.

Our 2-year dating anniversary was just over a week ago. We would have had a date, riled up from not seeing each other for a month, meeting near the vernal equinox, the change of seasons having become important to us. And then we would have seen each other at NEEHU, a week later.

Now I don’t know when I will see him again.

After keeping that fact so distant from myself, taking one day at a time, I was slapped in the face by it.

I cried. I cried so hard. I have not cried like that in months, maybe a year. It was the rawness of isolation, the feeling of tragedy, of separation.

After a few minutes of it, I stopped, because I didn’t want to dig myself into a hole I couldn’t get out of. I saw myself in a mirror, and saw the mascara running in streaks down my face -- an effect I’ve tried hard to achieve for kink and in scenes for my partners who enjoy tears.

I took out my phone and snapped a picture -- the picture I take for MrDream every day of myself when I feel particularly brainwashed. If this wasn’t such a clear sign of how brainwashed, how dependent, how addicted, how in love I am, then I don’t know what is.

He responded well.

I went to bed early, feeling like I had immensely screwed up in everything the entire day. Again I had trouble sleeping, but I was comforted by the knowledge that I would talk to MrDream on Skype, and woke up feeling still drained, but less raw.

Our call was, of course, what I needed.

It was not the kind of call where we dove headfirst into trance. We spent time decompressing and talking, the sort of relaxed conversation I’ve missed so much since not having long time together.

But when he shifted his tone, when I saw his eyes change so subtly, I felt it all, and I felt everything melt away, helpless to it.

--

This trance is so overwhelming, the lowness of his voice, the feather-light touch of it makes me feel as though this is so much more powerful than aggression, as though I am a fluid which yields so much more softly when given the most gentle pressure, and how weak I feel to that.

He talks about how I can feel myself melting into him and suddenly I feel it, I feel the way his body feels. How much he wants me. How much when even I think about him from far away, he feels it, unconsciously, the force of our connection, we can smell each other, we know the weight of each others’ bodies.

Sinking into him. Filled with him. Empty. Deep.

Going through vivid memories of us together, flashbacks to dates that I suddenly am able to access more effectively.

I weep in trance at how precious that is. I weep while aroused as he controls me, even as I feel myself totally slipping away. The tears stop quickly, leaving me with his control.

He is calling back to the podcast that I know he was there to listen to, using my words, using my ideas, the recognition that he is always paying attention.

When he snaps me up, I am a hypnotized wreck, I can’t talk. He has to snap me up again.

“My shoulders are doing the thing,” I say, smiling, finally. “My brain is doing the thing.”

Loosened, relaxed.

--

We talk about how much we miss each other. He future paces gently about what it will be like when we finally see each other. I cry a little bit again, and it’s the first time I’ve acknowledged this thing with tears in front of him.

We banter Erickson at each other -- our ultimate love language.

--

I’m amazed how quickly I fall away when his flirting shifts intent just slightly. I have been going deeper, I have been going away so much further and faster.

He turns me into a cow, all body, no brain, taking over everything. Dumb cow braincells making me all mouth, all pussy, all tits. Calling back to my fey memories, how holographic they are.

Flashback to his apartment and cumming on top of him.

���Feeling the way the light feels,” he says, and it triggers the exact memory of my thought, in his room, when he took something away from me permanently -- ‘I will never forget the way the light looks in this room at this moment.’

“And then fading away even from this much comprehension into the deepest trance.”

Just hypnosis, just mind control. The absolute feeling of that, the way it drugs me.

I am so close to nothing, he is draining me away… Again I have that sense that if he just pushes a little more, I would go, something would happen, I would be totally gone forever… Again, I flash back to another date, the solstice that I did not share, and how close I was…

“You’ve always been a dumb little girl, wanting this so badly…”

Another flashback…

And he wakes me up, and I just stare at him. He makes a whooshing sound.

“Boy, do I miss this,” he says, all low, so turned on. “Gonna shred you so bad.”

I say his name.

“I’m… somewhere,” I manage, softly.

“Me too,” he says.

I’m so completely focused on his face, so completely keyed into his expression, his eyes, just like I would be if we were together, just like I’ve been learning how to do over Skype after all this time.

“Are we just going to spend 15 minutes staring at each other now?” I whisper, locked onto him.

“If we were alone, do you think we would?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say quietly.

We fix on each other, silently, and it is just like we are.

He makes another whooshing sound, and it breaks, and we both laugh a little.

“Well,” he says, “that was two minutes.”

--

“As if a candle can tell that it’s melting.”

I become an object, melting itself, lit by him, finally no longer a person, finally even more easy to exist as a vessel for his control.

“As if you are a candle in the dark night, dripping wax into your hand, thinking about spells and magic…”

Flashback to Samhain, and the frustration.

“Who we are when we are alone, when we are together, even if there are people around, no matter where, we are always in this other world where magic is happening to us both. Knowing we are always connected, knowing we always have this thing, and no one can stop it.”

Flashback to DMDW.

Flashback to flashbacks of DMDW.

Weeping, again, in deep, deep trance, feeling the magic bubble in my body and bubble where the air meets my skin, just for this one moment, so long since I’ve felt it and never over distance like this -- the magic that I will always question, the magic that seems unquestionable when I feel it and then dreamlike, it fades...

He counts me up, and I feel a tightness, and before 5, I whisper his name and ask to stay here, at 4.

--

I have looked at the picture of myself ever so often. The enormous emotional outpouring feels more distant now, and more manageable, but I don’t ever want to forget how hard that day was for me. I don’t ever want to take things for granted ever again.

It makes me so happy that I was able to have meaningful conversations and input at EEEHU, and help people learn, and watch people having fun. I wish I could have been more present, but I know I was doing the right thing by being at home, and not “at the con."

The hypnosis community is so incredibly important to me. I dedicated my first book to it, and surely I will do the same with my next. I believe I was meant to be here. If I believed in destiny, which I do not, I would say that it has been my destiny since I was a tiny little girl, confused and barely conscious of myself.

All I have to say is this: Take care of yourselves. Stay strong, but know you will fail sometimes. Cry. Laugh. Keep in touch.

I will be here.

--

@hypnokinkwithmrdream

[scaredofthebasement-blog]

When Love Walks In - Chpt 11

Chpt 11 - Auston is moved out of ICU & Talks to Dr Quinn Privately

(I’d love to hear what you’re thinking of the story so far.) 

Words 4706

Warning:  Cuss words, Long Chapter

After congratulating Auston on his great progress, Dr Wright excuses herself for the day.  

Dr Quinn informs Auston and his parents that Nicole is looking after Auston’s transfer to a private room and he should expect to be moving shortly.  She tells them that she will drop by Auston’s room before she leaves for the day to see how he is settling into his “new digs” as she calls them. She expects to drop by sometime around 6 pm.

Auston is happy to hear he is going to see Dr Quinn again today.  He hopes he is settled into his room with enough time to spare to convince his parents, in an unsuspicious way, to leave him alone in his room.  He wants to be able to chat again privately with Dr Quinn before she goes home for the night.

Nurse Nicole makes sure Auston’s transfer to the 7th floor goes smoothly.  He has a private room with a view of University Avenue; but from Auston’s bed, all he can see are the windows of the other buildings across the street.  

Ema and Brian talk to Nicole about the possibility of unapproved visitors sneaking in to see Auston. Nicole tells them that she will speak with security on their behalf and try to get a guard to standby at the Nurse’s Station.  Brian thanks her and tells her that if the hospital can’t provide security for Auston, then he would like to hire someone privately, he just needs to know what the hospital wants.  

Later, Hospital Security indicates that they will only be able to staff a guard over the next 48 hours for Auston, but if the family want someone after that period, then they needed to hire a security guard approved by the Chief of Staff. Brian agrees to get that arranged as soon as possible and in the meantime takes an opportunity to meet with the Hospital Security Team to inform them of the restrictions he wants in place on visits to see Auston.  For the next 48 hour period, and until further notice, only staff and immediate family are to be allowed in Auston’s room.  

Auston has had a constant eye on the clock, so by 530 pm; he’s getting concerned that the ‘time-is-a-tickin’, and he needs to get his parents moving before Dr Quinn arrives to check on him.  

He writes on his whiteboard, “you guys gonna get dinner and sleep at my place tonight?  Go see the girls?”

“Yeah, if you’re okay, we were planning on taking the girls out for dinner tonight and staying at your place. What do you think?”  Brian asks.

“Yeah.  Good idea.  I’m good now”,  Auston writes.

“Okay, but we’ll miss Dr Q. Do you think we need to be here for when she comes this evening?”  Ema asks.

“No.  Dr Q’s just coming tonight to see that I’m settled.  I can handle it.”  Auston assures his parents.

“Well, if you’re sure?”  Ema confirms.

Auston nods and then writes, “Yup. Glad to be out of ICU but pretty tired.”

“Yeah, we’re happy you’re out as well, and we’re going to celebrate with the girls tonight and discuss plans to get them back to their lives in Scottsdale.”

“I wish I could join you to celebrate.  Good idea to have one of you go back home along with the girls.  I’ve been lucky to have you all here but no need for you two to both stay, now that I am on the road to recovery”, Auston encourages.

Brian reminds Auston, “Okay, we’ll think on that.  Contact us if you need us tonight. Anytime. Okay?  Phone us.  Text us. Your phone is charged and on your side table.  I know you don’t want to go on it right now but use it to keep in touch with me, your mom and sisters.  Okay?  Goodnight, son.  Sleep well.”

Auston nods as Ema kisses him on the head, goodbye.

Auston writes, “say hi to Alex and Bre for me”, with a heart after it.

“Will do.  But like I said, you can text them”, Brian reminds Auston with a pat on his shoulder.  Brian smiles and waves as he walks out of the room with Ema.

————————————————————-

It is now 6:15 pm and Auston is getting excited about Dr Quinn’s visit.  He just starts thinking about what he wants to say to her when she walks in his room.

Auston can’t help but notice how professional, chill and pretty Dr Quinn looks. It’s the end of the day, she has no visible makeup and must be tired, but she still looks radiant and so relaxed.  She is smiling, and instead of holding her usual chart, she has a brown paper bag in her hand as she walks towards him to stand on his left-hand side of the bed.

Placing the bag on Auston’s sliding table, she comments, “Well look at you in your new pad, Auston! Where are your parents?”  She asks, scoping the room.

Auston greets her with a big smile and small hand wave.  He grabs his board and pen and writes, “Dinner out with A & B.  Sleeping at Condo.  I encouraged it.”

“Oh, good!  I’m glad to hear it.  You’re a good son, Auston.”  Dr Quinn praises.

Auston smiles and writes “no biggie.”

“So do you have friends coming to visit you tonight?  A room-warming?”  She jokes.

“Am I allowed visitors now?” He asks.  

“But honestly, I’m kinda enjoying this bubble I’ve been in lately.  No desire to assoc with world when can’t breathe, talk or walk.  Don’t have energy to deal with stuff right now.”  He adds.

Dr Quinn takes a longer than normal look at Auston to see if he looks depressed.  It is hard to tell.  

“Ohhh, yes, sorry, Auston.  I forgot to mention earlier today that you can have visitors now that you are out of ICU.  Also, you can use your cell phone now whenever you would like since concussion symptoms are gone.  So you don’t want to get in touch with friends?”

Auston writes, “No, I don’t want to face my old life till I’m my old self.”

Dr Quinn is concerned.  “I see, Auston, that’s to be expected.  You have a lot to get your head around; your accident, your limitations right now, your team, your fans, questions about your future, therapy, focusing on rest and healing and I’m sure just thinking of the volume of messages you have received since this all went down must be daunting.  No doubt, you’re overwhelmed. Are you feeling overwhelmed, Auston?”

“Well, now I am!  Thanks, Doctor Debbie Downer!”, he writes, joking back with a big smirk.

“Ha!  Yeah, that was a downer.  Wasn’t it?   I’m so sorry, Auston.  Be sure to stop me if I decide to pursue Suicide Prevention Counselling, will ya?”

“Ha!  Yup!”  Auston writes, still enjoying the humour of it.

Auston thinks to himself but doesn’t share, And compounding things even further is trying to deal with my feelings for you.

“I’m really sorry, Auston. Sometimes I get lost in my thoughts, thinking about my patients’ challenges. I wish I could just take them all away.  I can help with the medical end of it but not the other stuff.  It gets a bit sad and overwhelming just thinking about what you all are going through and all the hurdles you need to jump, not just health-wise but everyday living stuff.  Life can be hard enough without adding health complications.  Saying the challenges out loud gets them out of my head, but that’s not fair to you, so I’m very sorry.”

Can you please forgive me, Auston?” she asks, looking him in the eye with sincerity.

“Of course!”  Auston writes  “No worries.  I was just having some fun with you.  I never really saw it from your perspective.  You opened my eyes to how extra tough your job must be, I mean, emotionally speaking.”

“Oh, Auston, please don’t misunderstand me.  What I go through is nothing compared to what you or any of my patients go through.  I just wanted to explain why I said what I said.”

“I understand.”  Auston writes and then adds a very silly smiley face emoji drawing to lighten the mood.  He turns the board to face Dr Quinn.

When she sees the crazy smiley face drawing, she bursts out laughing. “Ha!  Auston that’s hilarious!  Can u do others?!”  She quickly covers her mouth, looking around to see if she disturbed anyone by being so loud.

Auston loves her reaction. He erases his board, and with a smirk, he looks up at Dr Quinn.  Then with a straight-face, he proceeds to draw and show Dr Quinn, one hilarious smiley face emoji drawing after another hilarious smiley face drawing until Dr Quinn can hardly breathe; trying so hard to stifle her laughter and not to disturb anyone.

When she sees his last drawing which is a smiley face doctor emoji, that he labels ‘Dr Q’ and which has a headband light and a stethoscope that is listening to the head of another smiley face emoji that he labels ‘Auston’, she waves her hand in surrender, trying to catch her breath.

“Auston!  Oh my goodness, Auston!  That is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen!”  She tells him; still trying to quietly, compose herself.

“How?  When?  How did you get so good at…?  Are you an artist or something?”  She manages to spit out, absolutely floored by his drawing talent and sense of humour.

Auston writes, “Long, long, boring, boring, road trips…Have I mentioned they were long and boring?”

“Ha!  So amazing!  You’ve got some serious skills, Mr Matthews!  If this isn’t your main talent, I can’t even begin to imagine what you can do on skates.  Thank you for that Auston!  I seriously have not laughed that hard in a long time.  Wow!  That was something special.”  She says as she giggles, fixing her hair and dabbing tears from her eyes with a tissue.

Auston can’t help but beam with joy at having made Dr Quinn so deliriously happy.  If he were honest, he’d have to say that was the most heartwarming moment of his life.

Auston writes, “It’s the least I can do.  Glad you enjoyed them.  Glad all that wasted time wasn’t wasted after all.  Your response was worth every boring, doodling minute.”

Dr Quinn takes a breath and starts, “Auhhhh…Okay, so back to what we were discussing.  I suppose what I was trying to say before you pulled your Picasso out on me, was that I was … Oh, my goodness!  That came out very wrong.”

Auston stares at Dr Quinn with a very funny, surprised and curious face that suggests she’s just shocked the hell out of him by saying something very inappropriately funny.  He knows she just slipped up but thinks it’s hilarious. He wants to tease her for it and listen to her try to explain her way out of it.

“Oh Auston, you know what I was getting at right?  Picasso, as in your crazy drawings were like the artist; Picasso-ish, you know?”  She pleads with him.

When he doesn’t stop making his shocked face, she continues, “You know what I was trying to say, right?”

He shakes his head no, smiles and laughs inside.

“I didn’t mean to make it rude. I’m so embarrassed Auston.  Stop smiling at me like that!  Stop making faces!  Auston!  You’re enjoying watching me squirm, aren’t you?  Oh, you drive me crazy!”

You have no idea how crazy you drive me, sweetheart, is what Auston wants to tell her.

Auston could not believe how much fun he was having just lying in a hospital bed.  He’s unable to speak, barely able to breathe, unable to eat, unable to go to the washroom on his own, unable to do much of anything, not sure of his future, but feels like if he could have this woman in his life, every day, he would want for absolutely nothing.  He would have everything.

“Anyways, Auston, you silly weirdo, I was listing all of your possible concerns because I get why you would want to stay in your bubble.  I’m so sorry you’re in this situation.  But, what I can do, since I probably drove you to jump off a ledge with my flair for motivational speaking, is offer you counselling.”  She tells him but is interrupted by another weird face he is making at her; this one is supposed to be a crazy person.

“Stop it!  Auston!”  She scolds him as he smirks.

“If you want to talk to a counsellor, we have some great ones that I can arrange for you to see here in the hospital.  They can come to you.  I highly recommend therapy, especially in cases like yours, it can be very helpful. Like I was telling you, there is a lot for you to process.  It’s good to have someone guide you.”  She informs him.

Auston pretends to have fallen asleep because of her serious talk.

“Oh Come on!  Auston!”  She pleads.  “I’m being serious.  This is serious.”  She gently scolds him.

Auston writes, “Thanks but no, I’m not ready for that yet.  Besides, I don’t trust anybody knowing my shit; except maybe you.”  Auston knows it might be revealing a bit too much to admit that last part, but he also figures she should expect her patients to trust her, so hopefully, no bells go off for her.

“Oh, thank you for trusting me with ‘your shit’, Auston!”  Dr Quinn says sarcastically and feigning upset.

She continues with a giggle, “I wish I were qualified to be entrusted with ‘your shit’ Auston, but counselling is not my area of expertise as you witnessed earlier.  There are far better people than me for that job.”

“I disagree”, He writes matter-of-factly.  “Not needing a Psych right now, just a friend who cares”, He adds.

Dr Quinn feels their chat is getting awkward.  If she’s honest, she cares and wants to be Auston’s friend, but because she is his doctor, she won’t mix those two worlds; doing so would only bring problems.   So not wanting to hurt Auston or make things more awkward between them, she chooses to change the subject by delegating a job to him instead of pointing out the necessary line that she won’t cross.

“Well, one thing I can do is suggest that you ask your parents or sisters to look after sorting out your cell phone messages and Social Media.  If they can help you by responding with just a message that they are overseeing your phone and social media accounts, for the time being, that might take some of the pressure off you.  If they take that load, then you may feel less overwhelmed and maybe feel more like reaching out to a good friend who can lend a supportive ear. Or, since your family already have enough on their plate, I’m sure you could give that job to your agent’s people. Just a suggestion, cause like I said, and you witnessed, I am not qualified”, Dr Quinn adds with a laugh.

Auston realizes Dr Quinn has to draw a line to keep her role as his doctor separate from anything personal, but he really wishes she could be the one.  If he could confide in her, then they could develop a closer relationship while he has the chance during his stay in the hospital.  He accepts that he is just going to have to sneak in chats with her until he doesn’t need her as his doctor anymore.

Auston responds, “OK.  Good idea.  Thanks.”

Dr Quinn just remembers that she has something for Auston.  “Oh yes, on a happier note, you mentioned the other day that you are from Arizona and I just so happened to be in the gift shop this evening, and this beauty caught my eye. I figured since you moved into your new digs here, you might like this to brighten your days and remind you of home. Also, you can choose to see it as an award of sorts for your most recent accomplishment of getting yourself breathing without the ventilator.  I understand you’re pretty accustomed to getting trophies for your accomplishments so…” She says, teasing him.

Auston smirks and rolls his eyes for that last comment as Dr Quinn hands Auston the paper bag for him to open.

He’s curious and surprised. She’s excited to see his reaction. As he is about to put his hand inside the bag without looking, Dr Quinn gasps, “Oh no!  Wait!  Let me help you!”  She tries to grab the bag from him and touches his hand.  She is shocked by the electric-like current that passes between her and Auston as they touch momentarily.

Pulling the bag from his hands, she tries to ignore the spark.

“I’m so sorry Auston; I wasn’t thinking; there’s a cactus in the bag and if you put your hand in you’re going to get pricked.”

She rips the bag to expose the sharp green plant.  “Here it is. It’s just a little something”, she says as she places it on his bed next to him, careful to avoid touching him again.

As Auston looks at the small plant with a tiny blue ribbon attached to one of its spikes, he tries to process the rush of thoughts and emotions.  

He loves how she just made his stomach flip with her touch, and that he finally mastered keeping his heart rate under control with meditative-type breathing.  

He rushes to sort through his thoughts:  First, she thinks of me when she is away from me. Then, she wants to make me happy by getting me a gift.  Then, she remembers personal things about me like where my home is and that I get awards. Then, there is electricity in our touch, which I can’t believe she didn’t feel.  Then, she is concerned about hurting me.  Even if she can’t admit to being my friend right now, she just showed me that we are friends; and that’s enough right now.  He thinks.

Auston is tempted to call Dr Quinn out; that her actions mean more than she is willing to admit, by asking her if she gives all her patients a gift when they move rooms or accomplish something in recovery, but thinks better of it.  He knows that keeping the status-quo to just doctor and patient will allow her to remain his doctor and grant him time to develop a relationship with her; that works for him.

Auston writes, “Thanks very much, Dr Q.”

“You’re very welcome, Auston. I hope you like it.”  Dr Quinn responds.

“I do, very much”, he writes as he blushes and motions for her to put it on the window ledge across the room from him.  He wants to be able to see it all the time.

“Well, it’s not much, but I am just excited for you and this big step forward and wanted to cheer up your new room.  You’ve gone through a lot, and you still have a ways to go.”  She tells him.

“You’re a very special person, Dr Q.”  He writes on his board with a smile.  He figures that’s safe.  She’s his doctor, and she’s nice so there, he thinks.  Sue me!  He reasons with himself.  He would give anything to say more, but he knows there’s too much at risk.

Dr Quinn quickly changes the subject.  “I hope you will have some friends over soon.  That would be good for you, Auston.  Also, if you won’t see a counsellor, then please start talking to someone who can help you sort things out.  Give it some serious thought on who you have in your network that will be good to talk to about what you’re going through.  I’ll check back with you to make sure you do that, okay?”  She pauses and then adds “Consider that your homework.”

“Oh, so you’re my doctor AND now my teacher?!”  Auston writes cheekily.

“Well, I am actually qualified to teach, so I suppose I could be your teacher.  So yes, I am your teacher, and that is your homework, Auston Matthews. I expect you to do it or I’ll take back your trophy”,  Dr Quinn teases.

“Ahhh, Professor Q! You wouldn’t!” Auston writes in jest.

“Oh, yes, I would!”  She teases back.

“Well, I sure wouldn’t want you to take your gift away, so I’ll be sure to do your damn assignment”, Auston adds.

“Good to hear, Auston. Cause I will.  You know I will, don’t you?”  She teases again.

Auston can’t help but blush at her dominance.  “Yes, I know you will, Dr Q.”  Auston writes, acting dejected to make her laugh.

“Okay, well I better leave you to get some sleep”, Dr Quinn announces.

Auston quickly writes, “What are you doing tonight?  Hot date?”  He teases playfully trying not to make her suspicious, but honestly wants to know.

“Ha!  No!  But you got me thinking the other day when we talked about me needing to crawl out from under my rock.  Probably shouldn’t be sharing this with my patient but it’s because of you that I even contemplated this.  There is a guy who has been asking me to go out with him for a long while, but I didn’t think I had the time to date with my busy schedule.  However, you got me thinking that I really live a sad life of work, work, work.  I should make an effort to have a life beyond work.  Career-wise, things have been a little less intense lately, so I’m going to go on a date.”

Holy Shit, No!  What the hell did I do?!  Auston yells to himself.

He immediately tries to calm himself down to avoid setting off the heart rate monitor again.  

What do I tell her?  I want to tell her not to date him but can’t.  What do I do?  Oh, my God!  He panics to himself.

He is scared that the monitor is going to go off and reveal his feelings.  He needs her to get out of the room before it does.  He’s trying to contain his thoughts and the emotions they are bringing on with his meditative breathing.

Hoping to do damage control, he calmly takes his marker and writes, “No, I understand why you have little social life.  I am somewhat the same during hockey season.  I’d be exactly the same if I weren’t on a team.  So I get it.  No shame in it.  You are on a different level.”  

“I have a team of sorts through my work, but I don’t think it’s the same kind of comradery you have on your team. You all travel together.  We all work a variety of shifts.  It gets kind of lonely to be honest”, Dr Quinn reveals.

Auston doesn’t want to hear that she is lonely or unhappy, but he needs for her to wait for him to get better. He sees no way of getting her to wait without confessing his feelings, but if he does, he for sure will lose her as his doctor.

“I see.  Well, I wouldn’t want you to be lonely.  But I also wouldn’t want you to get hurt either. Are you sure he’s a good guy?” Auston asks hoping she will reconsider out of fear that the guy might hurt her.

“He seems to be”, Dr Quinn answers.

“Who is it?  A doctor?”  He questions her, but it really doesn’t matter who it is because he is jealous of anyone who takes her attention away from him.  But he wants to know who it is so he can find out more about him.

“Yeah.  His name is Doctor Scott Peters.  He’s a plastic surgeon.  Works in his own practice and I send patients to him.  I met him at a seminar and see him off and on when he comes to the hospital to do surgeries”, She explains.

“Good looking?”  He wants to know what she classifies as attractive.

“I think so anyway”, She responds blushing; uncomfortable that he would ask this.

“Well, be careful.  You deserve the best, so don’t settle.  I also wouldn’t want to see you get hurt. You’re pretty important to me”, Auston writes.  He figures that letting her know that she is important to him is safe since she is, after all, his doctor.  But he also hopes she might take from his comments, the subtle message, that he is in the wings so she should just wait for him.  He feels he really has nothing else he can say or do at this point without risking losing her as his doctor.

“Thanks for your concern, Auston. I will be careful.  You have a great night’s sleep, and I’ll see you tomorrow okay?”  She tells him.

“Yeah.  Thanks for stopping by and for the cactus.  I really love u. Ha!  I mean, IT.”  He can’t help himself.  He feels desperate and jealous.  He makes a subconscious mistake writing “u” but refuses to erase it.  Instead, he thinks that if he adds the other parts, he can play innocent but leaves her free to take it any way she wants.  

Auston hopes she gets the message because there’s nothing else he can do right now.

Dr Quinn leaves Auston’s room confused by their exchanges but refuses to focus on it as doing so might add issues to working with him.

Auston begins to wallow in his frustration.  He is sickened by the thought of Dr Quinn going out with another guy.  He is frustrated at the timing.  He immediately turns to his nightstand to get his cell phone. He needs to see what this guy is all about.

Just as Auston sees a photo of Dr Peters and begins reading about him, his heart rate monitor goes off.  He is relieved that Dr Quinn is out of his room, but then he sees her walk back in.

Oh, Fuck Me!  He says to himself.

“What happened Auston?  I just left you.”  She looks at Auston perplexed as she heads over to check the machine.

Auston seems upset and is holding his cell phone.  Dr Quinn surmises that Auston has been trying to do the “homework” assignment she gave him and it has distressed him.

Before Auston can try and make up a response, Dr Quinn answers for him, “Oh, your cell phone?”

Auston just nods figuring she bailed him out again by jumping to conclusions.  She really has no clue how I feel about her, which is both good and bad, he thinks.

“Auston, I suggest you don’t look at your cell phone this evening unless to contact your family.  Once your family has a chance to deal with your messages, you will feel better about using it.  They are the last thing you need to look at right now.  Okay?”

Auston nods in agreement.

“Or is it something else that is bugging you?”  She asks.

Auston shakes his head no and writes, “I’m tired too.”

“Okay then, let me tuck you in, and you get some sleep right now.  Hand me that cell phone please.”

He quickly closes his phone as she takes it and puts it in the drawer of the side table.  He enjoys the attention of her caring for him, adjusting the cords attached to him, getting him comfortable and tucking the covers around him.  She finishes with a touch of her hand on his arm as she says, “Sleep tight, Auston.” With that touch, the current of electricity that no one acknowledges returns.  Auston wants to grab her arm and pull her to him.

Instead, he closes his eyes and sighs to himself as he relishes the chills she gives him.  He is gone, gone, gone for her.  He doesn’t want to watch her walk away, and out of his room, so instead he just keeps his eyes closed and imagines she has sat down in the room with him as he falls asleep.  By doing this, he is able to keep thoughts of Dr Peters out of his mind and drift off into slumber.

[noisyquokka]

Slowin’ It Down

pairing: Chan x reader

genre: fluff, humor

length: 1.5k

warnings: Like a few curse words, but other than that, nothing 

Gist- While Chan’s schedule runs at a constant 100 miles an hour, you’re there to remind him that he needs to stop and take time for himself. Even on Valentine’s Day.

@janarine asked: 🙊 with Chan please ^_^ 

person A forgets it’s valentine's day until the last minute and rushes to get a gift for person B.

Wow, I really enjoyed writing this one! Also yeah, a bit late? But I couldn’t let this idea slip by! So I really hope you enjoy reading and thanks for requesting, Jana uwu 💛 Ahem, this might or might not be wholesome™ Woochan content for the most part 👀

3:58 am

Chan rubbed his eyes for the umpteenth time that morning, gazing back at the computer screen. He was tired, but insomnia was a bitch and it made sure to keep him up a little longer. At least until 4 am.

He jumped at the sound of the door opening, Woojin poking his head in the room.

“Dude, you've been at it since eight o’clock last night. You-”

“Need rest, yeah I know.” He tried! He really did! Every time Chan tried to get a blink of rest he'd end up back behind the computer screen. He had songs to finish, the group's comeback sneaking up on him quickly. That wasn't the only thing he had to worry about.

“So, what are you and y/n doing for Valentine's Day?” Woojin asked, sparking up small talk as he sat down on the studio couch. Chan quirked a brow, looking at the calendar. February 13th. No, 14th?!

“Shit, I completely forgot.” He couldn't believe it. How quickly the month had flown by. Not that it was that big a deal, it wasn’t like he fo-

“Hey, it's not like you forgot their birthday!”

Uhm, yeah... Thanks, Woojin!

Chan shook his head, massaging his temple. What could he get you in less than 24 hours? Most of the restaurants would be booked, but of course, he could always make dinner. Maybe not the best idea for someone running on zero hours of sleep…

“If I were you, I’d get them flowers,” Woojin said, looking up from his phone. “The nearest florist can have a bouquet of y/n’s favorite flowers ready to pick up by 9am.” Chan perked up slightly at his mention of you.

“Wait, how do you know what y/n’s favorite flowers are?”

“You seem to have forgotten who introduced you two!” Woojin joked, shooting him a grin. And that was when the light bulb within Chan's mind switched on!

“Woojin, would you be willing to help me cook dinner for tonight?”

“Uh sure, but why don't you just do it on your own? You're the better cook anyway.” He said, slipping his phone in his pocket.

“I'd rather not have the fire department coming to crash the special night. Seeing as I have yet to sleep, you helping me would put me more at ease that everything will go as planned.” Woojin nodded, understanding what Chan was getting at. Now all they needed was the ingredients for your favorite dish.

7:27 am

The trip to the grocery store would have been much quicker had Han Jisung not called.

“We're out of snacks!”

“Pick up some cake at the bakery!”

“We need more toilet paper…”

“What!? Jisung, there’s an unopened pack in the bathroom closet!”

“Yeah, well... Felix and Changbin are making Valentine’s.”

“With the toilet paper?!” Chan asked, tossing a few bags of chips into the cart. At Jisung’s affirmative, Woojin shook his head. How have they survived this long on their own?

“Alright, we’ll get what we can.” Even if they don’t sell toilet paper at the grocery store. Suddenly, the other members could be heard through the phone. Chan quirked a brow, Woojin frowning as well.

~~~

“Jisung, what’s going on over there?”

One glance at you and Jisung knew to keep his mouth shut!

“Oh, uhh.” Think, Jisung! Think! “We were just playing Jenga.” Chan seemed to buy it, finally hanging up with the younger member. And Jisung could finally let out the breath he was holding in, turning to you.

“What are you doing here at almost eight in the morning?!”

“Why? Don't you love me, Ji? What happened to the vows you took when we first established this friendship?” Jisung’s eyes widened. “Vows? What vows?! I don't remember vows!” He panicked, glancing over at Changbin who rolled his eyes.

“She's joking with you, dude! Chill.” Pretty funny coming from a guy making heart-shaped toilet paper Valentine's… You shook your head, heading off towards Chan's room.

“Still curious what you’re doing here!” Jisung called after you.

“I’m not telling any of you! Not after the last time.” You said, walking down the hallway. A chorus of groans and aww come on’s could be heard throughout the dorm.

You set your bag down on Chan’s bed, closing the bedroom door to keep the seven pairs of prying eyes out. And you quickly got to work.

8:45 am

“Got ‘em!”

Chan walked out of the florist, the bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. Woojin grinned, pushing himself off the brick wall he was leaning on.

“So we’re ready to head back to the dorms?” He asked, pulling the car keys from his pocket. Chan nodded, both of them heading for the car. While Chan didn’t feel especially exhausted, the bags that sat prominent as ever beneath his eyes told a different story. Would he even be capable of cooking dinner, even with the help of his elder hyung?

That would have to wait, his phone vibrating in his jean pocket. It was a text. From you.

Happy Valentine’s Day, you’re my one and only dork 💕

He grinned at the photo you’d sent. You were winking, sending a kiss to the camera. He tapped away at his screen, quickly responding back.

Happy Valentine’s Day, baby! 😘 You’re my one and only Q-T

Chan couldn’t hold back his laughter at your reply, a simple “eww, too cheesy.” making his heart flutter within his chest.

“We’re home,” Woojin said, pulling the key from the ignition and glancing at his friend. “Bro, go in and get some sleep! You look about ready to pass out.” Chan waved him off, grabbing the bags out of the car.

“I’m fine, I swear. Let’s just get the groceries inside.”

Woojin sighed, shaking his head at how stubborn he could be. But eventually grabbed the last of the bags, following him inside. Jisung was the first one to rifle through the grocery bags, pouting as the cake shaped void grew within his heart. Which Felix quickly filled with one of his toilet paper Valentine’s, the two hugging it out at the kitchen island.

“I can’t believe you two used up an entire package of toilet paper for that!” Chan said, placing the bouquet of flowers in a vase. Changbin glared at the leader, picking up all the - *ahem* “Valentines” - off the floor.

“We didn’t have regular paper!”

“Then what exactly do we write our song lyrics on?” Chan quizzed, pausing for a quick second to hear the rappers answer. Changbin kept silent, holding one out to Chan.

You hit all the right notes c:

“It’s too early for this…” Chan muttered, making his way down the hallway. He opened his bedroom door, rubbing his eyes before falling onto the mattress. The things that could fly over one’s head when tired…

“Chris.”

You chuckled at the way he jumped, the sound of your voice startling him. Chan sat up in his spot, confusion washing over his face.

“Y/n, what are you doing here!?”

You quirked a brow, gesturing to your surroundings.

“Notice anything different?” You asked, making your way towards him. And finally, he realized what you were talking about. The candles. The freshly made bed. The clean clothes laid out next to him on the mattress. You sat yourself in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I can’t believe you! The guys didn’t say a word to me!” He wrapped his arms around your waist, massaging your hip bone out of habit. You laughed, closing your eyes momentarily.

“That’s because I told them to keep their mouths shut! Actually, Woojin was the only one I told.” Chan locked eyes with you, surprised by your answer. You had a way of surprising him. There was never a dull moment in your relationship, even if to some people it didn’t show. You pressed your lips to his cheek, slowly falling to his jawline.

“Get changed. I’ll be right back.” You murmured, slipping out of his arms. But Chan was having none of that! He quickly grabbed your wrist, pulling you back on the bed. Your laughter was music to his ears, your smile sending him to the moon. How’d he get so lucky?

“You need to sleep, Mr. Workaholic!” You said, sweeping a stray hair from his eyes. “This is what I had planned all along; a day of rest and relaxation.”

Chan smiled up at you, closing his eyes from the feeling of your hands in his hair. He wasn’t complaining. While he was definitely stubborn, he knew when he needed to shut down. When you were around, that was especially easy to do. You made it easy.

“I love you, y/n. So much.”

“Do you know how not to be cheesy?”

That earned you a chuckle and a lazy smirk, Chan switching places with you on the bed. And instead of a snarky comment, he replied by pressing his lips to yours. It only took a moment for him to pull away, drowsiness taking over his mind.

“I’m serious.” He murmured, burying his head in the crook of your neck. You smiled to yourself, continuing to play with his brown locks.

“I love you too, Chris.” You whispered, staring up at the ceiling. A feeling of pure elation washed over you, a smile tugging at your lips. You could rest peacefully, knowing your voice and your heartbeat were the last things Chan heard as he slipped into a deep slumber for the first time in a while.

Another drabble checked off the list!!! If you’ve come this far, let me know your thoughts. And of course, if you’ve got any requests, don’t hesitate to send one in! Thanks for reading 💛

[oskarwing]

Worse than Chickenpox

Word count: 1966 Summary: Number One has a bellyache but he can’t go complain about it to Dad again. And anyway it not as bad as Chickenpox. Or is it? 

Author’s note: This is my second TUA fic I post and it’s Luther-centric again. I swear I got ideas for the others too. Anyway. Hope you enjoy :)

Number one often had bellyaches for no reason. He had no idea why but he had gone to Dad with it and Dad had said it was nothing after he checked him and he said that in his disappointed voice he normally never used for One and that made him feel very bad. Instead he went to Mom who gave him a hot-water bottle and tea before bed to make it better and who - he was pretty sure -  didn’t have a disappointed voice.

So when One woke up with really bad bellyache he thought it was one of those that didn’t matter so no reason to go to Dad with it. Maybe that evening Mom would make him some tea and a hot-water bottle but no reason to bother Dad with this again if it was all just in his head anyway. 

“It’s time to wake up, honey!” Mom knocked on his door. 

“I’m already up!” One called and crawled out of bed. Being up early was what Astronauts did. Or that was what Pogo told him at least. When he was big, One was going to go to space too like an astronaut. Dad had promised. 

“That’s good, dear. Get ready now.”

Number one did quickly, listening to Mom wake the others. 

He put on his uniform, brushed his teeth and then went to the stairs downstairs. The bellyache wouldn’t go away though which was weird. Normally One had to concentrate on something and he could blend the bellyaches out for a bit. He put a hand on his stomach. It was too early to ask Mom for help. They would have training after breakfast and you couldn’t run around with a hot-water bottle during training. 

Number four was the first of his siblings to join him at the stairs. 

He hadn’t tied his tie yet and he looked as if he hadn’t combed his hair either but Four’s hair was harder to comb, One knew that. He had heard the nannies complain about it often when they still had nannies, now they had Mom who would probably fix Four’s hair after breakfast or training. Number one could take care of the tie now though.

“Here,” he set and reached out tying it quickly losing the rime they had learned for it.  

Number four grinned. “Thank yooouuu!” he said and hugged him quickly. Four loved giving hugs. 

“You really need to learn how to do this, Four. Two and me we can’t always go around tying it for you, you know?” 

“Yes, yes,” his brother agreed nodding his head and looking around at other things. 

One knew that he was looking at ghosts of course, he knew that those ghosts were really scary and that he was crying a lot because of them.

Number one wanted to put an arm around Number four and tell him that he would protect him from the ghosts today, because that was what he was supposed to do protect all of his siblings from the bad stuff that came with being like them, but a gigantic bellyache stopped him and he curled up around it a hand pressed on his middle. 

“Are you okay, One?” Four asked and stared at him. 

“Yes. Just a bellyache.” 

“Is it worse than chicken pox or not as bad as chickenpox?” Four asked innocently, they had had chickenpox last year and since then every sickness was put in this system of not as bad or worse than chicken pox. It was a very good system. 

“What’s with chickenpox?” Five spacial jumped to them like he always did a frown on his face, he had been one of the first who went down with chickenpox and it had been really bad for him because he had been so sick he was too weak to jump and also because he had been especially itchy. 

“I got a bellyache but it’s not as bad as chickenpox,” One explained simply. 

“Oh. Good,” Five said and made a face. 

“You can’t get chickenpox again, Five, remember? ‘cause we got it once we can’t get it again,” Four said and smiled at their brother. 

Once the others had joined them at the stairs they waited for Mom to ring the bell that let them know they were allowed to come downstairs. 

They had only started to eat breakfast at the big table with Dad since their last birthday and it made One very proud even though now they couldn’t talk with each other anymore. But that was just how grown-ups ate, without talking and getting educated. 

They went downstairs in pairs holding hands. One and Two. Three and Four. 

Five and Six. And little Number seven at the end with no one holding her hand.   

“Stuh-st-stop p-pulling me, O-one!” Two complained. “I’m not pulling you’re just not fast enough to keep up!” 

“Nuh-Not tr-t-true!” 

They stopped bickering immediately when they saw Dad just as Number three and four stopped talking about what they would play on Saturday behind them.  Their eyes cast down they went to their seats, having to climb them a little as they were too big for them. 

‘Not for long anymore,’ One thought. Pogo said he was having a real growth spurt and he should be able to get on the chair easily soon. It would probably still be a few years until he could reach the ground with his feet though. 

Their father nodded at them as a sign that they could now start to eat. They all ate quickly, especially Number Two who heard that if he always finished his plates he would grow faster and he really wanted to grow faster than number one. 

On any normal day Number One would have eaten just as fast as his brother but today he was the slowest of them. His belly really hurt today and he wished that it would stop. It had never hurt that badly. 

‘Is it as bad as chicken pox though?’ One asked himself remembering Four asking about that earlier.  No, it probably wasn’t as bad as the chickenpox had been. Chickenpox were itchy and annoying and you got a high fever and number One didn’t have a fever if he had Mom or Pogo or Dad would notice. 

Training was horrible that day and One normally really, really liked training. But today it was horrible his belly was aching so badly that he couldn’t pull any punches and Number Two had lots of reason to laugh at him. 

By the end of it he was sweaty and miserable and belly was hurting even more now. 

Number Two made fun of him and his bad performance even after the training was over and Dad looked so disappointed, he had shouted at him a lot.

One felt awful. 

But he still changed out of his workout clothes and got ready for school time. 

Normally One liked training a lot more than school time but today he really liked school time better because he was sitting down and his belly wasn’t hurting so badly anymore. 

Plus he was good enough at school time too. Not as good as Number Five or Number Seven who were pretty much perfect at it but he was right in the middle a little behind Number two in reading and a little in front of him in maths. 

Since he was a little behind on reading Dad made him do that before he could do any maths or science, which One found a little unfair but Pogo would sometimes give him some texts about space and astronauts so that he would at least be interested in what he had to read. 

Today Pogo hadn’t found any texts about space for him and he had to read a text about stupid bodybuilding and how to stay up on proteins. 

It was such a boring text that he had an even harder time reading it than he normally would and with the belly ache it was even harder and really could this day get any worse? 

“Pogo, can I go to the toilette, please?” he asked and looked at the chimpanzee. 

“Well, how far are you with your assignment, young master One?” 

“Uhm… on page two now…” One said. “Please, Pogo? I really need to!” he pleaded.

 “Alright, alright. But be quick.”

 “Okay, thanks Pogo!” 

“It’s alright don’t tell your father though,” Pogo said and ruffled his hair and One giggled a little despite feeling so bad. Pogo made him laugh often and he also hugged him, Dad never did that. 

He had no idea what he was doing on the toilette, he just wanted to get away from sitting at his desk and staring at the letters as they started to run into each other while his belly hurt so badly and sometimes walking helped against the bellyaches. This time it hadn’t of course and now he was sitting on the toilette his belly hurting worse than ever before. 

There was a knock at the door. 

“H-hey, One,” two’s voice came from outside the door. “I guh-gotta go too, h-hurry up!” 

One sighed and got up slowly, making a grimasse, his belly still hurt really badly but he walked up to the bathroom door and opened it standing in front of Number Two. 

“Fuh-finally, I th-thought you w.. One?” The annoyance is gone from his voice. “A-a-are you o-okay?” Two asked him. 

One opened his mouth to say something but suddenly he was feeling very dizzy. 

“M-Mom! Come q-qu-quick! There’s s-so-something w-wrong with One!” 

Then the world turned black. 

When One woke up again he was in the infirmary. 

“Oh, honey, you’re up,” Mom smiled down at him. “No, no sitting up yet,” she said putting a hand on his shoulder to keep him from getting up. “You need to rest still, you’ve been very sick,” she told him. 

“My belly was hurting again,” One told Mom and rubbed his eyes. 

“Yes, sweetheart,” Mom said putting a hand on his cheek and frowning. “You’ve had appendicitis. How are you feeling now?” she asked and looked at him softly. 

“Tired,” One admitted and looked up at her and she smiled at him.

“Do you want me to let your siblings in?” she asked him. “They were all very worried about you.” 

“Really? Yes please!” One said nodding his head. 

Mom smiled nodding her head and opened the door where his siblings are all already standing and waiting. 

“Your brother is awake,” Mom says and the others storm in. 

“One!” Four is fastest and next to the bed first. “Two said you just fell down like after going to the toilette! Don’t do that!” he said and shook his head moving forward to hug him. 

Two nodded his head. “You d-did. Your e-ey-eyes wah-went up, got a-all w-white and you just c-collapsed onto the gr-ground!” he told him shaking his head. 

Seven was frowning at them. “Why didn’t you tell anybody, One?” she asked, softly. 

“I don’t… I just thought it was a normal belly ache like I sometimes got…” 

Five was frowning too. “You really should have told us about it.” 

“Whatever,” Four said waving his hand. “This was way worse than chicken pox!” he said and Six nodded his head. 

“Way worse,” Three told them. “Pogo said that we all gotta tell when we’re hurting because if ap-pen-dic-tis gets too bad you can… die!” she explained sounding out the word ‘appendicitis’ but One had to admit that it was a long and hard word. 

“No! You’re not allowed to die! None of you! Ever!” Four said shaking his head so fast that his curls were flying around. “I don’t want to see you as ghosts!” 

Six put his hand on Four’s back. “Don’t worry, we’re not going to die Four.” 

“Promise?” 

“Promise,” Six said and One nodded his head in agreement. 

Silly number Four. None of them would die. 

[leatherjacketvan]

Back to You

A/N : This was a request! Thank you for sending it in! I hope you enjoy it! It’s super long but I felt the need to be detailed. Also, it’s poorly edited so I apologize. Enjoy! :)

*** The Past

“What do you mean you can’t do this anymore!?”

Shocked and confused you both stood in the comforting space of your living room. However, the tensions from the heartbreaks you both were now in the face of made your home feel far from a sanctuary.

“I- I can’t do this! It’s too much. I feel like our relationship is living off of borrowed time!” You replied, trying so hard to gulp all your feelings down. But they were bursting through like a busted water pipe and there was nothing you could do about it. No matter how hard you tried to keep it all in.

“So what? You’re breaking up with me!? Is that what this is!?”

“Van. . . I- I don’t know. I don’t know what this is. I just can’t keep pretending we’re okay. We’re not. . .”

“Everything’s been pretty fucking great for me! Why? Am I not good enough for you now?” He sneered. He was bitter and cold and it hurt to see him that way.

“Van. Calm down! We can’t talk when you’re acting like this.” You replied solemnly but sternly.

“Calm down? Y/N, you’re the one who’s breaking my heart right now! Don’t fucking tell me to calm down!”

“Van. . .” you replied. You sat down on the couch, a wave of emotions hit you like a tsunami. Sobbing into your hands as if you were a child. This was never what you wanted. But it was something that you felt that you needed to do.

Your brain always treated you with logic not with tenderness. You told yourself you couldn’t do this anymore.The constantly being away, the burdensome feeling you had when you weren’t around him, not knowing what the future would even hold for the both of you considering how you couldn’t seem to move past the fact you may never have or even want the time to just settle down. You convinced yourself it was the truth. . . that these were all valid reasons to leave. Maybe it was. . ? It felt like it was. . . You’re brain was all warped over the idea of losing him. You loved him. . . right? Yes- of course you did! How could you not? He was bright and kind. Caring for you and always there when he could be. But that was the thing ‘could be.’

He was constantly gone for long periods of time. You were constantly traveling back and forth for work. You loved him. . . yeah. . . you really did. But it made your brain melt and your heartache whenever you thought about all the times he was never around. Or when you were never around.

You sat quietly after you started to calm down from the wave of panic that had just possessed your body. He walked over to the couch, sat down right next to you and sighed heavily. Letting out a strange whimper as he began to break down too.

“Van, you know I love you. . . right?” you said softly. He pulled you into a tight embrace as your head faced the floorboards. He cried into your shoulder. You couldn’t dare to look him in the eye.

“Yes, Y/N. I know you love me. I love you too. . . I just don’t understand. . . Why are you doing this?” he replied, his voice was melancholy and strained. Both of your emotions were filled with innocence and desperation, which made the situation all the more devastating

“Because, right now. In my life. . . things are changing. I’m gone all the time, and so are you. I miss you constantly. I hate when you leave. Hell! I hate when I leave. . . But I worked so hard to get where I’m at. . . and so have you. Neither of us should have to compromise our careers for each other. It wouldn’t be fair. . .” you began.

“Van. I think you need to let me go. . .” you turned up to look him in the eye. But he was already staring into yours. His had become ghastly pale, his frame was slumped. His cheeks blushed from the sadness.

“I- I. . . can’t, Y/N. I love you. . . I love you so much I can’t-” he broke his words with a soft sob. You held him in your arms this time. The moment was so sappy but it was now a reality. And it was terrifying to think you were just going to leave one of the best things that ever happened to you. And that you were breaking not only yours, but someone else’s heart.

“Van. . . I’m gonna leave. It’s what’s best for the both of us. I know it. I think deep down you know it too.”

“You can’t!” he said, an absolute mess.

“Van. . .” you said sternly. You grabbed his face and intently looked him in the eyes. Your nose was all runny and your face was all red and puffy. You were far from a pretty crier. You knew that. He knew that too.

“Van, ju- just think! For one moment. . . . please. . . just.” you signed heavily. “I love you, I always will. You’re one of the best things to have ever happen in this lifetime of mine. And I say that without a fucking doubt in my mind. But if we keep this up. We’ll never be okay. Things will just get worse.”

He sighed heavily, he pulled your hands away from his face and held them gently in his.

“You’re going to leave me?” he whimpered.

“I think we need some time apart is all. I know this doesn’t feel right now, but Van I know it is. You can focus on yourself now. You can let me go. . . I promise.

I understand if you hate me. I hate me for doing this to us. . . But in the long-run. This is what’s right.”

He looked down at your hands, his thumb rubbed over the ring he got you for your last anniversary. It marked three years of your love for one another.

“You promise?” he mumbled.

“What?” you questioned confused.

“You promise, that no matter what. . . you’ll never take this off? Please. . . promise me.” he said solemnly.

“I promise, Van.”

*** The Present

You sat upon your brand new sofa and took a deep exhale of relief. “Finally!” you exhaled.

You sat in your new apartment. You had just got done decorating. It was finally a home now. All your records were organized by genre, artist and then release date. Your kitchen was now prepped for you to cook actual food, instead of takeout that you’d been eating for the past few weeks as you settled into your new place. Your bed was made up and your bathroom was stocked with all your essentials and favorite things. You had finally moved in.

The past few years had brought a lot of new perspectives into your life. They way you wanted to live it and so on. . . It was no longer a struggle to figure out the next step like it had been for so long. Because you had realized something. . . Life was too unexpected. And to map it out down to the smallest details was only causing you stress and even more stress. You got sick of living like that. So you decided to finally just let live. You weren’t old by any means- but you were getting older. And you were at a point in your life where you had to be a real adult now. Even though you’ve had a continuously climbing career, you decided to settle down for awhile. Maybe you’d change your mind in a few years. . . who knows?

You sat back and relaxed as you opened the bottle of wine that you had been saving for this moment. You filled your glass and slowly sipped on your pricey Rose. The dinging of your phone abruptly came from the coffee table. You slowly leaned over and picked it up to see a text from one of your long time friends, Quinn. You’d been college buddies, and she definitely made your homesickness a lot better whenever she was around.

“You’ll never guess who the FUcK is in town rn!!!” - Quinn.

“Idk is it ur creepy uncle who wears the button downs but without buttoning them? Because if it is. . . I’ll pass :)” - Y/N.

“No! … thank god. . . but Y/N like for real!!” - Quinn.

“Okay Q. . . who is it?” - Y/N.

“Y/N. . .” - Quinn.

“I’M GETTING IMPATIENT NOW! WHO???? Spill it!” - Y/N

“Y/N. . . it’s Van. . . :/” - Quinn.

“. . .” -Y/N.

“Do you want me to come over? I know how much you hate to talk about it. . . He’s only here for a few days anyway.”

“. . . yeah. You can swing on by. . . we’re going to need more wine tho :/” - Y/N

“Of course girly :) I gotchu. . . always. <3 .” - Quinn.

You gulped down your glass and set it to the side as you began to just drink straight from the bottle.

You stared into the blankness of your wall. You didn’t understand why you were so caught up about Van still. It had been years, afterall. He’s probably moved on by now. After you split ways with Van you didn’t really keep in contact much longer, afterwards. Their was the occasional ‘I think I left my favorite perfume at your place.’ or ‘ Mind if I drop by? I think I left fifa at your place.’

Your work had you flying around a lot after that. Going from city to city every other day for a few months at a time. That’s when one day you had the enlightening realization that it was all becoming too much and that you should just settle someplace for awhile. Which is exactly what you did. And something about you settling down now, without Van, made you feel a deep guilt that built up in your stomach.

The door opened and Quinn walked in. She sat down next to you and let out a deep sigh. “Men amiright?” she scoffed, taking her own beverage from the bottle too. You both looked at each other. Then at the ground. You just started to laugh. It started off as a small little breathy scoff, and then laughter just erupted from your lungs, and you couldn’t stop. You were practically screaming you head off with laughter like a madman. Quinn just sat confused.

“Quinn.” you paused mid-laughter.

“I’m fucked. . .” you sighed.

“Y/n. . .” Quinn muttered trying to get your attention.

“Yeah?”

“I think you still love him. . .”

“. . . I think so too.” you replied softly.

You both stared at each other once again. Eyes glassy and scared.

“What if he doesn’t love me anymore.” you asked desperately. It felt pathetic to say aloud.

“I think love always finds a way back to you. This just doesn’t happen to be a very convenient coincidence? No I don’t think so. This was meant to happen.” Quinn said.

In college you studied multimedia and she studied psychology. So your more meaningful conversations always ended with Quinn reciting something philosophical and you agreeing to it even if you had no idea what she was even talking about.

“I’m gonna go call him.” you murmured. You got up from the couch and walked into your bedroom. Scrolling through your contacts you found his name. The lame little eggplant emoji that Van forced you to put in his contact name was still there. You took a deep breath as the dial tones began to ring.

“Hello?” he spoke.

“Uh. . . hey.” you replied awkwardly.

“I’m sorry, who is this?” he asked.

Your heart sunk into your chest, you regretted this. This just felt like a mistake. ��Um. I think you might remember me. . . It’s Y/n.” you spoke softly.

“Y/n!?” he replied enthusiastically. It made your stomach fill with butterflies the way he said your name.

“My bad. I just got a new phone, don’t have a lot of contacts in this thing yet,” he laughed.

“Van! Hi, I hope i’m not intruding on anything. . . Uh. . . um- a friend of mine told me you were in town.”

“Me and the lads just landed in Chicago.” he replied a little lost.

“Yeah. . . I -uh. Moved back home.” you said.

You grew up in the States your whole life. But moved to Chicago for University. You first met Van in Chicago and he always thought it was where you grew up. You never bothered to correct him on it.

“You moved back to Chicago?” he said. The tone in his voice had shifted from perky to solemn.

“Uh- yeah. Recently though.” you replied.

“Oh. . . um. . .” he said aimlessly.

“Yeah! Anyways- what a weird coincidence. Ya know. . . the timing and all. I was wondering if maybe you wanted to see each other while you’re here? It’d be nice to see you again.” you said.

“Of course, Y/n! How about tonight? We don’t play a show until tomorrow and it’d be fantastic to see ya.” he said cheerily.

“Yeah of course! Sounds great!” you responded.

“Awesome! I’ll text you a time and place,” he spoke.

“Yeah Van, I’m looking forward to it,” you said. A feeling of sadness had overrun your body at the sound of his sweet voice.

“. . .”

“Yeah. . . me too. Catch you later Y/n,” he said.

The line went dead and you felt colder than normal. You walked out into the living room. Quinn sitting on the couch with a smirk on her face.

“How’d it go?” she asked.

You scoffed, “I don’t know, how do you think it went? I know your nosy ass was listening in on every word.”

“I think it went pretty damn well if you ask me,” she replied.

“. . . Yeah. I hope so. . .”

Later that night you peeled out of your sweatpants and t-shirt and into something more casual. You were meeting him at some bar called ‘Patty’s.’ Van always made poor choices when it came to finding new places. He loved the dive bars. But, in your opinion, they just seemed like every girl’s worst nightmare. Sweaty old dudes checking you out. Mold growing on the walls of the bathrooms. Those sorts of things.

You double checked to see if you had everything in your purse, but really you were just trying to avoid the situation you whole handedly put yourself into.

When you got to the bar you were running late. You took a short walk from the train to the place you were supposed to meet and every now and then you would stall to ‘catch your breath’ or ‘adjust your shoe.’ Anything to postpone that awful feeling in your stomach. It was guilt and you knew it. . . It began to eat you alive ever since your phone call.

You walked up to the bar, took a deep breath, and walked inside. You looked around. It was noisy and old rock music was blaring from blown out speakers in the background. You looked over to your right. There he was. You felt your chest sink into your stomach. A few empty glasses already cascaded the table he was sitting at. You slowly approached him and saw the look on his face brighten when he saw yours. You took a seat across from him and began to prepare for an uncomfortable night.

“Hey” he said. He had a huge grin on his face, like a young kid when they see their crush. It made you crack a sad smile looking at that goofy lovable smile of his. The one you let down all the years ago.

You took a seat across from him. An awkward silence was held between the both of you. You had no idea on where even to start.

“So. . . what’s new with you?” he asked politely.

“Oh. . . a lot currently. I just finished moving in and I start work again at the office in a few days,” you replied. trying to make innocent conversation.

“Chicago, huh? What made you want to move back here?” he said. Only a few words in and it already felt like an interrogation. But you knew you owed him at least an explanation as to where you’d been and what you’d been doing all this time you’ve been apart.

“The past few years I’ve been all over. I just got a little homesick I guess,” you replied.

You could hear a slight breathy scoff come from under his breath. “What happened to not wanting to settle down?” he muttered as he stared at his glass somberly. He was starting to come off a rude and quite judgemental of your decisions, but his eyes were glossy and he looked so lost in thought. You could tell he was still hurt. Even after all this time.

“You’re right. . . I didn’t want to settle down. But, I don’t know maybe now I do,” you replied.

“So. . . Does that mean you’ve been seeing someone?” he questioned. He had the same negativity in his tone, but he spoke calmly.

You sat quietly, feeling the intensity rise “. . . No Van, I haven’t really thought about that part of settling down.” you replied.

“Oh. . .” he said softly circling the top of his whiskey glass with his finger.

“But how have you been?” you interjected into the uncomfortable silence.

“Oh. . . I’ve been great. Yeah,” he bluntly replied. You could tell he didn’t really want to come here for small talk, despite the happiness in his tone when you talked on the phone earlier. You thought he would’ve just loved to tell you what he’s been up to. But deep down, you knew you were foolish to think your guilt wasn’t going to come up to bite you in the ass.

He wanted something more.

“I’m glad to hear that.” you said, nodding your head with a soft smile.

“Yeah. . . Ya know. . a lot of songwriting, we’ve got a new album dropping soon.” he stated.

“That’s awesome Van! I’m happy for you! How are the guys by the way?” you replied.

“They’re all good. Bondy’s laid of drinking a little bit. Larry is. . . well. . . still Larry.” he chuckled awkwardly.

“That’s awesome! It’s good to hear you’re doing good!” you said cheerfully.

“Yeah. . . I mean, why wouldn’t I be?” he retorted.

“I mean- I. . . I don’t know.” you replied nervously.

You both sat silently for a good moment.

“. . . Van. What’s on your mind? You seem a little tense,” you mumbled out.

“. . . Yeah, well, here we are.” he replied coldly.

“Is it because you want to talk. . . like, about us?” you asked. You could almost feel your bones shaking and the goosebumps forming on your skin.

“Yeah. But uh- not here. I don’t want to talk about it here.” he bluntly stated.

“Okay. . . well we could. . . I don’t know maybe go back to my place?” you mentioned.

“. . . yeah, um. . . okay.” He replied.

You looked down at your hands as you fiddled with your fingers. A nervous habit of yours. He slid out from his seat and you followed suit. You slung your bag over your shoulder and the both of you headed out of the front door of the lame dive that you were so glad to finally be leaving. This wasn’t exactly how you planned on leaving it though. But then again, you had no idea what you expected to happen.

You and Van walked side by side, occasionally bumping into each other from the lack of distance between the two of you. You folded your arms in front of one another to make sure your hand wouldn’t accidentally meet his.

You walked down to the train and waited an awkward five minutes in somewhat silence as the Amtrak slowly approached.

When you got back to your building. You fiddled with your keys. Shaking a little bit as you tried hard to hide your nervousness. But when it came to Van, you could never seem to hide your emotions very well.

“Are you okay, Y/n?” he asked concerningly.

“Uh- yeah” you chuckled “New keys, you know how it is. . . that’s all,” you stuttered out. He nodded his head as in ‘yeah. . . alright.’ He could tell you were a nervous wreck. But deep down inside he was too. If it wasn’t for the intense pregaming he probably would’ve been acting the same way.

You finally made your way into your apartment. You tossed your keys into the dish next to the doorway and walked over to the kitchen. He followed behind you as you began to look through the cupboards for some alcohol. Preferably something with high content. The quicker you weren’t sober. The better.

You grabbed a bottle of vodka for you and some whiskey for Van. You didn’t bother with shot glasses. Not that you were sure you had any, anyhow. You grabbed two regular glasses and began to walk out into the living space. You plopped down on your couch like you had earlier that day. But this time in an entirely different situation. With entirely different thoughts running through your head. He sat next to you. And you just sat in silence as you both poured drinks.

“So. . . um. You asked me earlier if I’d been seeing anyone. How about you?” you asked.

“‘Course not,” he replied.

You let out a little laugh, trying to break tension. “How come? You’re a fine lad. I’m sure the ladies are all over you. I know they were when we were-” you stopped mid sentence. Instantly regretting that statement.

“When we were together?” he replied.

“Uh- yeah, I guess,” you mumbled out, embarrassed.

He let out a little laugh. “No. I haven’t really found anyone all that interesting. I haven’t found anyone worthwhile,” he replied.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said, taking a long gulp of your strong beverage.

“Not to sound cocky, but you should. You’re amazing Y/n. No one could ever come close to you,” he softly spoke. You looked up at him. You forgot about how much his eyes glimmered in soft light.

“Bullshit! I’ve met plenty of girls who are way cooler than I am,” you replied with a calm laugh.

“Oh, so you’re into girls now I take it?” he snickered.

“Van! You know what I mean,” you replied with more laughter.

“Yeah. . . I suppose so,” he sadly replied.

“But I don’t think there will ever be someone quite like you,” he said. He took a strand of hair from your face and pushed it aside. You awkwardly looked down, not knowing how to respond.

“Y/n- I.” he stopped as he looked down at your hands that had made their way crossed upon a pillow. You looked down too. On your right middle finger sat the ring Van gave you.

“You still wear it?” he asked. He looked shocked, happy, and sad at the same time. An odd expression but one that you instantly detected.

“Yeah. . . of course! We made a promise. But do you know how much of a pain it was to keep track of it with all my travels.” You laughed.

“Y/n- I can’t believe you actually kept it,” he replied with a soft smile as he held his hand in yours.

“It was three years of undying love, remember?” you smirked.

“Yeah, I remember. I remember how you called me corny for saying that. . . but it was the truth,” he smiled.

“And it-” he stopped. Looked down at your hands and then back at you.

“Even after all this time, I still feel like maybe it is,”

You couldn’t detect why, but all of a sudden that guilty feeling rolled all throughout your body. You became a little flustered on how to respond. Before you knew it, you had tears in your eyes.

“What’d I say!?” he interjected; concerned.

“Oh God, I don’t know! It’s not you. . . Well I mean it is but it isn’t,” you began. Van instantly wrapped his arms around you; tightly.

“I know. I know. It’s okay,” he said. Comforting you.

“I’m so sorry,” you spoke. It came out a little bit raspy as you still tried to stop yourself from actually crying.

“No Y/n. Don’t be. . I. . .” he began to speak as he loosened his embrace and his eyes met yours. Your face was all red and your eyes were puffy. You were an ugly crier. You knew that. So did he. . .

“I think you were right. About having distance. Even if it met losing you for awhile. When I first heard your call I about freaked out with happiness. I couldn’t contain it. I couldn’t believe it was you. Y/n I love you. I’ve loved you from the very beginning. When you left. . . I thought maybe I could move on, but you’re the one. You’ve been stuck in my brain for what feels like centuries. And now that we’re here. Together.”

You looked him in the eyes once more as he held your face in his hands. He had a hopeful grin on his face as he looked right back at you. You leaned in closer. His lips caressed yours as he softly kissed your lips. But the intensity was astronomical. He pulled your body closer to his as if you were weightless. You loosely wrapped your arms around his neck. Returning the gesture. You paused. Looking at him with a flirty smile.

“You know I heard this cheesy thing, but I think maybe it’s true,” you spoke

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” Van replied with a cheeky grin.

“It goes like ‘no matter what love always finds a way back to you’ or something,” you said.

Hand held your hand and squeezed it tight. Giving you another passionate kiss on the lips before saying “I guess now both of us are corny lovers” he chuckled.

You leaned once more.

“Yeah. Maybe we are…” you smirked.

[beca-mitchell]

show me where my armor ends, ch. 7/7

chapter 7: i like me better

ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7

Summary: Chloe Beale goes to Disneyland. Again. 

Chloe-centric chapter to end this week. I just want to say that it has been delightful writing these little snippets of their life together for you all.

Chapter title refers to “I Like Me Better” by Lauv.

See graphics/manips and q&as in this fic’s tag: show me where my armor ends

Also on AO3.

Word count: 2,241

day 7: disney

Growing up, Chloe always wondered what it would be like to be a Disney princess. She had also begged and begged her parents to take her when she was younger, but they had refused, citing bad timing and monetary struggles.

Then, her career had taken off and she hadn’t thought about it.

Not until she picked up that music video gig with Beca Mitchell.

And now, in the best, most serious, most stable, and healthiest relationship she’s ever been in, Beca holds true to a promise made nearly three years ago - a subtle text of all things and brings them on a mini vacation to Anaheim.

Before nearly every ride, Beca mutters something along the lines of “why am I doing this?”

To which Chloe responds, “Because you love me.”

Beca never says anything in response to that. She simply holds Chloe’s hand as best as she can before she’s screaming and cursing Chloe’s name for dragging her here.

“Hey you should ask her if she dyes her hair,” Beca suggests, pointing at Ariel who is waving and gesturing at them to take pictures with her.

“Is that your idea of a pick-up line?” Chloe asks in return. “ You go take a photo with her. I know you have a crush on her.”

Beca flushes immediately. “No? I was just - ugh. I hate you.”

“You love redheads,” Chloe says, grinning at how aggravated Beca is becoming. It’s so easy to rile her up.

“So what if I do?”

“Do you two want a photo or not?” ‘Ariel’ asks, jolting them both out of their intense staring. “There are actual children waiting.”

“Yes please,” they both mumble, eyes downcast.

Beca thinks there is something very, very wrong with making out at an amusement park that is crawling with children.

Of course, what she thinks and what she actually does are two very different things.

There’s something about the intensity in Chloe’s eyes when they start their “It’s a Small World” cruise that makes her cave almost immediately.

And finally...

They’re standing in front of that majestic castle, tinged with blue. The skies are clear and the sun is hot.

But Beca doesn’t want to move, not when she’s standing right next to Chloe Beale.

Chloe leans against the railing, on arm around Beca’s waist as they quietly watch the gentle ripple of the water. It’s not much to see, really, but it’s a peaceful moment.

“Good day?” Beca asks, leaning into Chloe’s side. They’re both a little warm and more than a little sweaty, but she finds comfort in how softly she sinks into Chloe, as naturally as ever.

“The best,” Chloe sighs happily. “This is the vacation I needed,” she says, stretching her legs a little.

Beca nods, understandingly. Chloe had been filming a movie in New York over the past month and before that, she had been working on her series, which had kept them apart for almost two and a half months. She had missed Chloe desperately, finding excuses whenever she could to fly back and forth.

“Are we going home now?” Chloe asks, noting that they’ve stopped exploring. “Or do you want to get one last ride?”

It’s almost early evening, but people still mill about them, not really noticing who they are, despite the fact that they got stopped only a couple times for photos or autographs.

“I do have something I want to do,” Beca says lightly. She takes her baseball cap off and ruffles her hair to get it to fall into place messily.

"You know, when I was seventeen and just about to graduate high school," Beca says, drumming her fingers against the stone of the railing. "I had this...fantasy. It was what - what my life would be like by the time I turned twenty-five. Visions, dreams, goals – you name it."

"You’re twenty-seven now,” Chloe says, a teasing smile on her lips.

“And you’re twenty-nine, almost thirty,” Beca points out, pouting.

Chloe laughs, gently touching Beca’s pouty lower lip with her thumb. “Okay, sorry, continue.” She reaches out to squeeze Beca’s hand reassuringly.

"I just…wow. The reality is so much better, especially with you. Even if I have lulls in my career, I know you’ll be there.”

"You won’t have lulls," Chloe promises instantly. "You're so talented."

"I love your faith in me," Beca murmurs with a soft smile.

"It's not faith, Bec,” Chloe says gently. “It's just a fact.”

Beca bites her lip, shrugging as she lets go of Chloe's hand briefly to grasp the railing again. She fidgets, letting her knuckles turn white as she tightens her grasp.

"My point is," Beca pushes on determinedly, "I don't need the awards or the records or – or the validation from anybody else to be happy. Not anymore. I could stop touring tomorrow, if I wanted,” Beca says, pausing as she contemplates the reality of how true that feels. “I could stop everything because I have you.”

There’s a brief silence, barring the sound of screaming and laughing children around them, but it fades to background noise as Beca stares straight at Chloe, feeling like she’s twenty-five again, filming a music video at this very location, wondering how she got so lucky to have met Chloe at all.

Chloe’s brow furrows, wondering if Beca’s trying to tell her something about her career – that she’s struggling with something. She turns, eyebrows raised. “Did something happen? You’re starting to worry me a little, Beca,” she says slowly. She knows Beca had a meeting recently with Universal, in talks to work on a movie soundtrack and original music. It had been a big deal in her house.

Beca huffs, loving and hating how concerned Chloe is in whatever situation they find themselves in. They’re literally in Disneyland, having spent a full day – almost – on rides, screaming themselves hoarse. "I'm trying to be symbolic, Chlo. Could you just...?"

Chloe mimes zipping her lips, nodding seriously.

Beca nods, almost to herself, as she gathers her wits about her. She turns back to face the water, licking her lips a little nervously before facing Chloe once more, with renewed determination in her eyes.

Beca's smile wavers, and she swallows visibly, bracing her right hand against the railing.

“Beca,” Chloe breathes.

"I'm so in love with you," she murmurs, powering through. "I love this…this weird, crazy life we've built together. I love knowing that I get to wake up every morning to the one person – the only person - who knows me better than anyone. You know me better than I know myself sometimes and you still somehow love me for everything I am. That’s…” Beca reaches out to hold Chloe’s hand, leaving one hand on the railing steadily. “The good, the bad, and everything in between. You’ve seen me cry and scream and make a complete fool of myself on the red carpet, but you have never wavered. Not once, and it is my hope…not ever.”

“Never,” Chloe echoes, unable to help herself. She thinks people are starting to stare because they have been in one spot for a while now and Beca has removed her hat as well as propped her sunglasses up on her head.

“I love you in exactly the same way, Chloe," she says, voice light and carefree and enshrining everything Chloe has grown to love about Beca over the past two and a half years of being together.

Chloe's heartrate begins to speed – more than it had been before. She holds Beca’s hand tight and tries to remember how to just breath e, while her mind spins with Beca's words—with the entire day. Beca obligingly agreeing to wearing matching t-shirts. Beca pulling strings to get them special tours and quiet moments away. The increased amount of PDA; the gentle and sweet kisses Beca had placed on her cheeks, lips, and hands over the course of the day.

Chloe feels herself already begin to tear up.

"I'm the best version of myself when I'm with you," Beca continues. “I feel like that was something I already knew while filming that music video. It feels like a lifetime ago, which I guess is true because I was living a very different life back then. Even though we met at the Golden Globes, I was waiting for the day I could see you again.”

“Beca,” Chloe says, though she has no real thought. She just has to say Beca’s name because she feels lightheaded and weak suddenly.

Beca pauses to lick her lips again, feeling her throat constrict nervously. “So now, I’m standing here, on this bridge, where I believe I found the will to just live my best life again…” She lifts her hand from the railing to reveal the small velvet box that had been resting comfortably underneath. Then, without warning, she slowly bends down on knee, gazing up at Chloe with all the hope and love in her eyes.

“I don’t need to film another music video here to know that standing next to you for the rest of my life is the only thing I need. Here, where dreams come true – where I realized it was okay to dream again – I want to know, just one small question.”

Chloe thinks she gasps, or maybe somebody in the crowd gasps – and yes, there are definitely people taking photos of them. Chloe can’t wait to read all about it.

Beca is still smiling tearfully as she opens the box, finally letting go of Chloe’s hand to do so. "Chloe Beale, will you please marry me and share my forever?"

Chloe silently replays the question several times in her mind as she stares at the ring through eyes blurred with tears. She hastily wipes at her tears, pushing her own sunglasses up on top of her head.

She can't quite believe what she's seeing, but she somehow manages to process enough with her haywire sense that she’s seeing  a diamond engagement ring (a beautiful one), which means that – that Beca definitely just proposed to her.

At Disneyland.

(God, she’s such a nerd.

And she definitely said please. Beca is so soft - Chloe will never let her live it down. But it’s fine, Chloe is equally soft.

Chloe loves her so much. Her heart might burst.)

"Chloe?"

Her gaze lifts to Beca's face when she realizes she had been staring transfixed at the ring for a few moments. She notes, with a watery laugh, that Beca actually looks scared and nervous. “God, yes Beca. As if I’d say anything else.”

She doesn’t wait for Beca to say anything in return, simply tugs Beca up, careful not to jostle her, and cups her cheeks, kissing her passionately and vigorously.

“Yes,” she repeats, mumbling it straight into Beca’s mouth. “Yes, yes, yes.” She pulls back with a sigh, holding Beca’s face close to hers. “A hundred times yes, I’ll marry you.” Chloe chokes back a tearful laugh, nodding her head vigorously as she drops her hand and breathes out, "Yes. Yes, yes, Beca," she reaches for her, bending down to kiss that beloved mouth and whisper, "yes, I'll marry you," against her lips.

She feels Beca smile more than she sees her, and Beca kisses her again, just once more, joyfully, before pulling the ring free of its box and reaching for Chloe's hand. They’re both shaking and Chloe thanks God that Beca didn’t drop the ring into the water or something horrible.

“Now you can stop stealing my rings,” Beca says, though it’s tinged with a tearful laugh, lacking any real bite.

“Never,” Chloe whispers back.

Watching Beca slide the ring into place, Chloe marvels at how wonderful this whole day had been.

She's so happy.

She has wanted this for so long , but Beca never really mentioned marriage or serious commitment beyond the fact that they moved in together about eight months ago. Chloe had been too nervous to bring it up because she wanted to focus on the domestic bliss and comfortable bubble - at least until Beca gave her some kind of clue.

This is so much better than she could have ever imagined. She loves it when Beca surprises her.

"I love you so much, Beca Mitchell. Even if you are a giant, cheesy, nerd," Chloe whispers. "Nothing will make me happier than being your wife."

"My wife," Beca repeats with lopsided grin. "I really love the way that sounds," she murmurs as she slips her arms around Chloe's waist. There’s more cheering in the background, but once again, it fades to nothingness.

"Me too," Chloe agrees, looping her arms around Beca's neck and kissing her like she means it.

As they kiss, right in front of that famed castle, Chloe thinks that it is ridiculously poetic – or incredibly cheesy – that she just got engaged , during her second-ever trip to Disneyland.

Beca is thinking the same thing, clearly, because she mutters “I’ve never gotten engaged in Disneyland before, so this is a treat.”

Chloe laughs, kissing Beca once again, resisting the urge to just wrap her legs around Beca’s waist. “There’s a first time for everything.”

“Shut up,” Beca laughs, trying to kiss her again.

Chloe lifts her hand to Beca's hair and buries it in the silken strands.

Now all she has to do is find an equally perfect ring for Beca because Chloe might be just a little possessive and she maybe wants everyone to know that Beca is very much taken .

But for now, she’ll just enjoy the fireworks, well ahead of schedule.

Entertainment Tonight

The Latest:  Relationship upgrade! See the moment Beca Mitchell proposes to Chloe Beale at Disneyland!

fin // ch. 1 | ch. 2 | ch. 3 | ch. 4 | ch. 5 | ch. 6 | ch. 7

happy bechloe week! it was a really fun time writing these for you!

[allonsysilvertongue]

Always Done What You Say

This was how it began - Tony Stark had called on Peter Parker for a mission while he was out with May except the mission did not end the way anyone imagined or hoped it would, and now Peter’s life has been pulled out from under him. (Or the story of how Tony found himself having to be more than just a mentor to Peter, one small step at a time)

Previously

Chapter 17

Peter felt less burdened.

He felt lighter, easier to breath.

The last time he remembered ever feeling this way was before witnessing Ben’s death.

Ben…How had that happen exactly?

All he knew now was it had been unfortunately tragic.

No point dwelling on it, he supposed. Ducking into his room, Peter grabbed the notebook from his bag where he had scrawled the new formula. He had been working on it with Bruce and it was something he was immeasurably proud of. He couldn’t wait to show it to Tony.

Just then, his phone went off, signaling a text message.

I haven’t heard from you since yesterday. I’m worried.

I’m fine. You’ve done awesome. Really can’t thank you enough. Don’t worry about me

Are you sure? What about any side effects?

Sighing, Peter pocketed his phone.

He didn’t want to think of any potential side effects that might occur. He felt great so that should be all that mattered, surely?

It would only get better. He knew it. He could already feel the difference. Who knew the mind would have such an effect on his mood.

Peter returned back to the dining room in time to see Pepper shooting Tony a look of warning. The man wandered off the fridge, pouring himself some of that smoothie he loved so much. His hand shook but when he turned around again to look at Peter, he was sporting a smile.

Peter relaxed almost immediately.

“I’ve got it, Mr. Stark. Here you go,” he waved the notebook and handed it over to his mentor. “Like I said, I’ve been thinking about using my webs as sort of a – a gauze, you know? To – to stop bleedings. But then I thought to myself – why stop there? So um, if the webs have antifungal and antiseptic properties, then that means I can use them to cover wounds, especially during battles. It’ll make the wounds clean and free of infection,” he paused to read Tony’s and Pepper’s reaction. They both seem fascinated which Peter took as a good sign. “Dr. Banner suggested that maybe I can even have clotting properties on it. How cool is that?”

“This is very… This is great, kid. It’s smart. You’re really on to something here.”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded earnestly. “My webs have been just weapons for now but I – I think I can do a lot more with it.”

“Good thinking, kid,” Tony commended.

“If it works, maybe I can even sell the formulas to pharmaceutical companies or somethin’ like that. Contribute to my college fund.”

“I’m responsible for that college fund,” Tony punched his shoulder lightly. “Look who you’re talking to. You shouldn’t be worried about that.”

“Oh, yeah right. I – I didn’t think that you’d...” he trailed off. It was still an adjustment for him. Having financial worries was part of the deal growing up and with Tony as his guardian, he kept forgetting that money would never be an issue. Not that he would ever take advantage of that. “Well, I can always donate them to clinics all over New York. Lots of people out there I can help, even if I’m not Spiderman anymore,” he shrugged, throwing a grin for Tony’s sake.

“Exactly,” Tony agreed. “But I don’t want you rushing into it. You gotta make sure Bruce approves everything and I mean, everything.”

“Tony’s right,” Pepper chimed in, placing her plate in the dishwasher. “A single wrong step is a potential law suit.”

Peter hummed in agreement. If anyone knew business, it would be the two of them. He was just a kid with big ideas. He sat on the table long after dinner was over working on the crossword puzzle from Happy’s morning paper while Pepper retired to the living room in time for the news.

“Five letters across – lack of tact…” Peter bit his pen. “Any ideas? I feel like I’ve got it but nothing.”

“Stop that for a sec,” Tony said, pulling a chair next to him. He rested a hand on the back of Peter’s chair and for a wild moment, he felt trapped. “I’ve been meaning to ask… Everything alright with you? You seemed a little… off.”

Peter stared, stricken. The crossword puzzle lay forgotten on the table. He capped and uncapped the pen before he ducked his head, letting the growing curls fall over his eyes in a desperate effort to hide a part of himself from Tony.

His heart was suddenly hammering in his chest and he could hear the roar of blood in his ears. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Tony, afraid that if he did, all his secrets would be laid bare.

“I’m fine, Mr. Stark,” he squeaked. “Um, I should probably check with MJ about this crossword. She loves them. I bet she’s finished hers this morning.”

He grabbed the papers and all but bolted back to his room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

Technically, he hadn’t broken any rules. So really, he had nothing to fear. Tony had wanted him to remember that he was the last of the Parkers, and he had held that close to his heart.

Peter checked his phone to see that there was a new message from Stephen Strange.

Did you talk to Tony yet?

This is not something you can do on your own.

He is helping me with it, Peter typed before hitting the send button.

Going to Stephen had been a mistake because now, the sorceror wouldn’t leave him alone.

Why then do you see the need to come to me with such a request? This is worrying, Peter.

Ignoring the message, Peter tossed his phone on the bed. He needed people to get off his back and to stop worrying every little thing about him. He could take care of himself. Hadn’t he proved that already?

Still, Dr. Strange was the least of his worries right now. Tony was a more pressing concern. He had escaped his mentor but if he knew the man and Peter liked to think that he did then Tony can be quite persistent. If he sensed that something was not right, he would pursue it until he had all the answers.

Perhaps, all he needed to do right now was to tone it down a notch.

That was easier said than done because he felt great. There was so much energy running in his veins and he couldn’t sit still. It was akin to a sugar high. There was so much he felt he could accomplish now that he was no longer moping around, tied by the weight of guilt and sadness.

He would burn off this energy one way or another.

When morning came, Peter remembered his plan from the night before.

He plopped down on the chair, mumbling a “morning” as he poured himself a glass of orange juice. He watched Tony and Pepper over the rim of his glass.  He had been quite muted, not so much acting like an excited puppy. That should throw them off the scent, he figured, and carefully avoided any unnecessary eye contact.

Halfway through breakfast, he grew exhausted. He didn’t think trying to act normal when he was filled to the bones with energy was hard work but it was. He was so excited to conquer the day – to leave the house, to walk down the streets, to meet his friends.

“How are you this morning, Peter?” Pepper asked. “Did you sleep well?”

“Uh, didn’t sleep much,” Peter answered before he hurriedly explained himself. “It wasn’t because of nightmares or anything like that. I was on, um, Netflix and sorta lost track of time. I completed both seasons of Friends,” he chuckled. “Kind of understand now why May loved that show.”

Tony looked at him, the cup of coffee halfway to his lips. “So you didn’t sleep?”

“I did – got a few decent hours in.”

“It’s fine now but let’s not make this a habit,” Pepper rebuked with a smile. “Not with school starting next week.”

Peter nodded, “Of course, Miss Potts.”

He really liked her. In some ways, she reminded him of May. There was that familiar maternal connection with Pepper.

“Mr. Stark, do you think… Can I maybe have some money?” he asked tentatively. “MJ convinced Ned to go on some Brooklyn Bridge bike tour for charity and uh, Ned wants me to come along. It’s like fifty bucks and half the money will be donated, and I – I don’t have that kind of money on me.”

“Sure, buddy, anything you need – just ask. How long will this tour be?”

Tony was already reaching into his jacket pocket, pulling out a wad of cash clipped together with a gold metallic band.

“Half a day or something,” Peter answered. He looked down on the cash Tony handed him. “This is too much. I don’t need two hundred dollars.”

Pepper took back a hundred dollar bill and returned it to Tony with a roll of her eyes.

“He doesn’t know when he is making someone uncomfortable,” Pepper patted Peter’s hand. “Use the change for lunch, for you and your friends, alright? Please be back before dinner.”

“Okay, Ms. Potts,” Peter smiled gratefully. “So … What’s your plan for today, Mr. Stark? More projects in the workshop?”

He took his time spending breakfast with them. He really didn’t want them to worry about him but it was useless because just as he stepped out of the apartment, he overheard Tony talking to Pepper.

“I need to talk to the kid when he’s home tonight. I know something’s up, Peps.”

Not wanting to hear himself being discussed, Peter hurried along. When he emerged from the apartment building, he inhaled deeply and allowed himself a smile. With a promise to himself that he would make good of today, he jogged across the street to where he was supposed to meet Ned and MJ

“Hey, weirdos,” MJ called out and the moment Ned and Peter turned to look over their shoulders, she snapped a picture of the three of them on their bicycles at the Brooklyn Bridge. “Let’s pretend we’re tourist. I’m Alesha, an art student from Maryland Institute College of Art or I will be at least. I’m here on a trip before college begins. I love mustard and pickles, and I’ve got a collection of jars at home… for art.”

“That’s oddly specific,” Peter pointed out.

“That’s how the game works, Parker. You can be anything. So… who you gonna be?”

“A baker from Queens,” Ned suggested.

“He’s from Queens,” MJ clicked her tongue disapprovingly. “The whole point is to pick a new name, a new place, a new… identity.”

By that afternoon, his calf and thigh muscles were aching from the sudden exertion. It was clear that he was paying the price for all the time he spent not going out as Spiderman and exerting himself physically.

“Dude, I’m beat,” Ned heaved. “I’m never letting MJ convince me about doing something like this ever again.”

“It’s alright, it’s for charity,” Peter clapped his friend’s shoulder. “But yeah, I’m exhausted too, man.”

Despite the fatigue, the bicycle tour took his mind off Tony and Pepper, and the pressing concern that sooner or later, Tony would undoubtedly ask him straight out about the things he had done. That was a conversation he was not looking forward to have.

It wasn’t fair. It concerned him and it should be his decision, not Tony’s.

As liberating as it was to get away from the apartment for a bit to spend time with Ned and MJ, there was only so much he could do to avoid home before he needed to return. Missing dinner would only raise more questions and suspicions.

Dinner, surprisingly, passed by without any incident. He listened to Tony complained about Norman Osborn and the deal he apparently was trying to get into with Stark Industries. The mention of Oscorp did raise his heart rate a little but it was nothing out of the ordinary. It was the same reaction he had each time he gleaned the word Oscorp from newspapers and articles online.

“Movie, Pete?”

“Um, can we take a rain check on it?”

Tony tilted his head to the side, an eyebrow raised dubiously. “You sure? Got something else in mind?”

“Just – uh – this game I told Ned I’d play with him. Some online multiplayer… you know?”

“Oh,” Tony crossed his arms, looking uncharacteristically interested that it had Peter worried. “Is it anything I’d be interested in? Come on, share it with your old man. Don’t leave me out of the loop. I got to know what you teenagers are up to.”

“Stop,” Peter wrinkled his nose and laughed out loud. “Stop trying to be cool.”

“I agree,” Pepper sided with him. “Act your age, Tony.”

“That’s hurtful, honey. Alright, kid, go ahead.”

Seeing as there wasn’t a multiplayer game he had to play with Ned, Peter sprawled on the bed, arms folded across his stomach. He stared at the ceiling and listened to the street below. It was still disconcerting to know he was way up here at the Penthouse and yet, it still felt as if he was standing right at the pavement on the street. Everything was so loud and clear.

The hours went by before he finally pushed himself off towards the study table. He turned on his laptop, randomly scrolling through Netflix until he decided to continue with Friends. The hours passed by until the door to his room opened.

“Pete,” Tony stood at the door, a frown on his face. “What are you doing?”

“Just watching some stuffs, Mr. Stark,” he turned his chair towards the direction of the door. “What’s up?”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y reported that you’ve been at it for hours. It’s six in the morning now. Do you know that?”

That startled him. He hadn’t realized time had passed so quickly.

“I – uh – I lost track of time. Again,” he laughed nervously. Peter rose to his feet. “I’ll just try to catch up on sleep now, if you don’t mind?”

“We’re supposed to be getting your things for school this morning, kid. Did you forget?”

Shit, Peter bit his tongue.

“It’s fine. We’ll push that to this afternoon,” Tony said. Peter thought that would be the end of it but Tony was still there with his arms folded and his gaze fixed firmly on Peter. “Are you alright, Pete?”

“All great, sir,” the immediate reply spilt from his lips.

“See, that’s the problem. I don’t believe you, not for a second. I want to, kid, I really want to believe that you’re doing okay but something isn’t right. Will you look at me?”

“But I’m fine,” Peter mumbled, looking down on his hands.

He was tensed and truthfully, starting to feel a little anxious the longer Tony remained in the room. A muscle in his jaws ticked, and now, he could suddenly feel the exhaustion creeping in.

“Look at me, Peter,” Tony demanded, his voice a little rough and strained.

And still, Peter looked away. He turned his back to Tony as he folded into himself, his hands rubbing up and down his arms.

He supposed whatever patience Tony had with him all these while snapped because the man was suddenly standing in front of him. Tony laid his hand against the side of Peter’s face, his fingers gripping lightly the back of Peter’s neck. Tony tilted his face upwards, forcing him to look at the older man.

“Tony? What’s going on?”

His guardian’s gaze flitted to the doorway behind Peter to where Pepper was. He could sense Pepper moving closer to him and then her hand was on his arm, her touch gentle and soothing.  

“I’m not hurting him,” Tony shook his head. “Something – Something’s not right, Peps.”

By now, Pepper was standing next to Tony and Peter felt like an insect being scrutinized.

“He was upset a few days back. He wouldn’t talk about it, he bit my head off when I prodded. Lately, he’s acting as if…” Tony trailed off.

“Peter, your eyes are unfocused,” Pepper pointed out.

Were they?

He was alarmed now, truly. He squirmed, trying to get away. He really could easily overpower Tony but that was not something he wanted to do. Still, his hand rose to close around Tony’s wrist.

“It’s ‘cause you’re both standing too close,” he muttered.

“You’ve done something, kid, and I think I know exactly what that is,” Tony grounded out, nostrils flaring in suppressed anger. “I hope to God I’m wrong but I’m not wrong am I, Pete?”

“I – I don’t know what exactly you think I’ve done, Mr. Stark. All I’ve done is go out and meet my friends ‘cause Ms. Potts says I should and then I’m home watching stuffs on Netflix. That’s what teenagers do.”

“Peter,” Pepper said his name softly. She tapped Tony’s hand for him to release his hold on him which he did, exhaling a shaky breath as he did so. “I don’t know you as well as Tony does but we’ve been living together for a while now and I do have to agree with Tony. There is something different about you.”

“You want to tell me, buddy?”

Tony sounded exactly as he did on that rooftop after that Staten Island Ferry incident – angry, upset and disappointed.

“I – No, it’s not what you’re thinking, Mr. Stark.”

It would have held more weight if his voice had not sounded small and unsure.

“Do not insult my intelligence by lying to me, kid. Just – Just tell me the truth. Please. Be straight with me.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter hung his head. “I’m really sorry.”

Sighing, Tony turned towards Pepper who was looking at them, clearly bewildered.

“A few weeks ago, he asked something of me. I said no, of course. What else was I supposed to say to such a request,” Tony lamented, running a hand down his face.

He looked tired and every bit his age, and Peter felt a sudden twinge of guilt before he squashed it. He had done this for himself. He had always put everyone else first but he was at the bottom of the pit with no way out, and he needed to make himself better. He had tried Tony’s way and it wasn’t working fast enough. He had done a selfish thing for himself and he didn’t need to be made to feel this way.

“Wanda was at the Compound both times you were there recently, wasn’t she?”

“It’s not her fault,” Peter voiced out.

“Oh, isn’t it?” Tony taunted. “Did you go to Stephen to ask him about it, too?”

“As a matter of fact, I did,” Peter raised his chin stubbornly. “He refused me just like you told me he would. He didn’t understand.”

“And I presume that was the day you came home mad.”

“Yes,” Peter clenched his fist. “When I asked Wanda that first time, she told me she wouldn’t do it. So I went to the sanctum and Dr. Strange turned me away.”

“And?” Tony prompted.

“When I went back to the Compound to work with Dr. Banner, I bumped into Wanda at the hallway and – and she could feel me. Whatever I was feeling inside,” he touched his chest briefly. “She asked so I told her everything – the nightmares that kept me awake, the images of Aunt May that’s burnt into my mind – everything.”

He was actually still surprised that Wanda had agreed to help him. She had been extremely reluctant, unwilling to use her abilities on him and wary of incurring Tony’s ire. But he had always been nice to Wanda whenever he came over to the Compound and she had found a friend in him.

The grief, guilt, sadness, and exhaustion and his anger with her and Dr. Strange had rolled out of him in waves when he saw her again. He had told her about his sessions with Dr. Lara and of Tony trying to fix his trauma with his piece of technology. He had told Wanda of his senses overloading and of his worry that it might only get worse with school starting.

She agreed to help with the promise that he would tell her if he even felt something was not right. He didn’t ask her specifically what he should be looking out for. He just wanted to rest.

“So she fixed me,” Peter finished.

“Fix you?” Pepper frowned. “I don’t understand. How did she fix you?”

“Ask him what happened the day the aliens attacked New York,” Tony suggested.

Peter blinked and looked away.

“Ask him. Go on.”

“What happened that afternoon, Peter?” Pepper asked.

Peter shot Tony a disgruntled look.  “I went to watch Solo with May.”

“What happened after?” Tony questioned, propping a hand on his hip.

“It happened so long ago I don’t want to think about it. You shouldn’t be asking me about it. Dr. Lara said something about triggers -”

“It happened two months ago.  That’s not a very long time,” Pepper pointed out. “I’m sorry, Peter, but you’re avoiding the question.”

“I can’t do this. I don’t have to do this. I’m sorry,” Peter said. “I really want to sleep. I’ll see you guys in the afternoon, okay?”

“What happened to May that afternoon, Peter? I’m not letting this go and you know it, so it’s better that we just lay it all out on the table.”

Peter was sure his face reflected the annoyance he felt inside but Tony stood his ground and Pepper looked extremely concerned.

“She got injured and then she died.”

“How did she die?” Tony asked, relentless.

“I don’t know!” he blew off. “I don’t remember.”

He knew Tony must have expected this answer but still, his mentor took a step back, drawing a shaky breath.

“How do you mean you don’t remember?” Pepper stepped forward. “Peter, you were there.”

“He really did it,” Tony scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “I told you not to do it, Peter. I told you forgetting isn’t the answer.”

“I didn’t forget May,” Peter rebuked, like a petulant child. He hated how he sounded. “I still remember her. Technically, I’ve didn’t do anything you didn’t want me to.” Seriously, he shouldn’t sound this proud because it would only aggravate Tony but he was proud of this loophole. “You wanted me to remember my family. I’ve done as you’ve said, as always. I remember my mum and dad, I remember Ben and I remember May.”

“What does that mean, kid? How can you remember them and not remember things about them? What did Wanda do to you?”

Peter shrugged. “The moment she agreed, I didn’t ask too many questions. I’m fine now. I’ve never felt better and it’s thanks to her.”

That was uncalled for and he knew it too. Tony had done a lot for him and he was constantly trying to help but he was so angry and annoyed, and the moment it left his lips, he wanted to take it back. But he couldn’t so he stomped out of his own room.

Tony didn’t even stop him.

At the doorway, Peter stopped. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, I had to do it. You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

“Worrying about you is part of the deal, underoos.”

That answer twisted something deep inside of him and it just made him feel rotten. Peter closed his eyes briefly, trying to compose himself but he couldn’t do it with Tony around so he left.

“Tony…” Pepper finally broke the silence. “Wanda wiped his memories?”

“I don’t think that was what she did. He wouldn’t have remembered them if she had wiped it. My theory is that she placed some sort of a mental block on him,” he sunk into a chair.  “I was so close to completing those glasses, Pep. The glasses for B.A.R.F. It could have helped him.”

I kind of feel sorry for both Tony & Peter. What about you? Are you with Peter on this? Let me know yours thoughts!

[rainagainstmywindow]

All Shades of You (Chapter 5)

Happy Birthday to Percy Jackson! This is super fluffy so it commemorates the Percabeth anniversary as well too I believe. Thanks as always to my lovely beta @san-penedo and enjoy the small lifeguard!Percy i managed to sprinkle in there! (please search #ramwfics or #ASoY for previous chapters)

Percy groaned as he attempted to read the same passage of his history textbook for what appeared to be the hundredth time. The exhaustion that weighed over him thanks to swim practice two hours prior didn’t help either, nor the fact that he had to wake up early tomorrow for his dog-walking gig. He would have little time the rest of the weekend to catch up on homework since he’d taken on extra shifts at the local pool where he worked as a lifeguard to make up for what he couldn’t work during the weekdays now that he was in the swim team.

He got halfway through the passage once again but it was no use, the words just taunted him from the page, dancing around in weird, curvy waves. Frustrated, he slammed the book shut, immediately flinching at the sound. He hadn’t heard anyone come in but Smelly Gabe would give him hell for making any noise during his precious “TV time.” Percy slowly poked his head out of his room and was relieved to find he was home alone. His stepfather was probably out drinking with his buddies and his mom should’ve been heading home from the candy shop. He felt his phone buzz. It was a text from Sally.

Will probably get there in a few hours. Had to close up late and I stopped to get some groceries. Don’t wait up. Love you

Percy texted back a quick reply, knowing full well she was probably closing up but at a new job. She had not wanted to admit it when he’d asked, too concentrated on congratulating him for making the team, but this definitely put a strain on money. His school tuition had already been too much even when he was working more frequently. He wondered once again if this was worth it, if he was worth it. He knew his mom wanted him to have what she didn’t, to finish high school and make it out of this neighbourhood. But he’d only managed to screw up every chance he’d gotten so far, and college just seemed too out of reach. His stepfather seemed to agree with it all being a waste. I won’t waste a dime on your little delinquent kid, Sally! Percy had heard him and his mother arguing after she’d gotten Percy the interview at Goode. As if Smelly Gabe had ever contributed anything but anxiety to Percy’s life. He’d silently prayed he wouldn’t be allowed into the school, didn’t really see how considering his record and poor grades. But, somehow, he’d made it in.

He made his way into the kitchen and rummaged through the fridge. He’d made sure to have an extra large lunch but he had not eaten since practice and he was starving. Percy looked at the clock. 10:32 pm. He figured Beckendorf would be at his apartment, getting back from work himself. Last year he would alternate his time between practice and Beckendorf’s apartment. Most days Grover would join them and they would pass the time bothering Beckendorf about Silena or playing with Mrs. O’Leary. Yet another thing Percy had screwed up when he got himself kicked out. He slammed the fridge door too, this time flinching because he knew he couldn’t afford to break the old thing. It’s not like Beckendorf had stopped inviting him over. He’d even hung out there a few days ago. Percy just couldn’t help but feel guilty whenever he saw him.

In the end, his own boredom and frustration won and he found himself in front of Beckendorf’s door. Mrs. O’Leary must’ve heard him come because Percy could hear her barking through the door. A few seconds later there was Beckendorf staring down at him, still im his mechanic overalls. “Hey! Everything okay?” Percy didn’t miss how his dark eyes scanned his face. There had been a couple of times last year when he’d knocked on his door later at night looking worse for wear.

“Yeah,” he answered casually, “I just got bored. Can I come in?”

“Yeah, of course.” Beckendorf stepped aside, making sure to hold on to Mrs. O’Leary’s colar. The large Rottweiler had started bounding happily at the sight of Percy, who scratched her ears on his way in. Beckendorf knew Percy too well. “You hungry?” He asked as they shuffled into his living room/kitchen.

Percy tried not to look too embarrassed as he admitted: “I’m starving.”

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

“What?” Percy asked Grover for the second time. He’d been too focused on a scrawny kid flopping around in the pool in front of him to hear what his friend was saying. He’d seen the kid before, not the strongest swimmer but Percy could tell it was more due to lack of confidence than anything else. He’d seen him manage quite well in the shallower parts of the pool. Today it seemed like he’d finally decided to try out the deeper end though. The kid’s parents were nowhere to be seen, and Percy could see the panic starting to creep into his face as he realized the water was too deep to stand in. “I’ll be right back.”

Percy slid into the water. He didn’t want to make a scene since the kid wasn’t actually drowning and he wanted to give him a chance to get out of there by himself. The boy spotted him right away, relief evident in his face. Percy was tall enough to stand in this part of the pool so he made his way slowly towards him. “Hey there.” The kid didn’t make a dash to hold onto him so Percy knew hadn’t gotten too desperate, but the way he was flopping around would tire him out soon enough. “What’s your name?”  

The kid, looking mildly embarrassed, told him it was Trevor. Slowly but surely, Percy got Trevor to paddle to a shallower part of the pool. His parents finally made an appearance not soon after. “Hey ma’am,” Percy called. They were clearly here just to pick him up and they didn’t look too happy about it. The father hadn’t even looked up from his phone. “Is this your kid?” The mother, a woman that appeared to be blonde with unusually dark skin (through his limited color palette Percy assumed it was due to a bad tanning job), looked him up and down but didn’t find it within herself to answer. “I had to help Travis swim away from the deeper end of the pool. He’s not a strong enough swimmer yet for you to leave him on his own like-”

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you complaining about doing your job?” The woman’s tone made Percy’s blood boil but he clenched his fists to keep his temper in check. He didn’t need any complaints going to his supervisor. He tried to apologize but the woman was too busy yanking Trevor out of the water to care. Percy tried to put on a fake smile as he waved goodbye to the kid and sulked back to his chair.

Grover looked distastefully at the spot where the woman had gone. “A plus parenting, huh?”

Percy rolled his eyes in agreement and slumped back into his chair. “What were you saying before?”

“Oh right,” Grover tried to calm his nerves, but he’d never been a good liar and Percy knew him pretty well by now. Grover was hoping to catch Percy in a good mood since he knew he wouldn’t like this next part very much. “Well, you know how you’ve been telling me you’ve been struggling with homework lately?”

That question alone was enough to hit a nerve. “I’m not struggling, Grover. I was just saying that I’m tired and I hate reading.”

“Yeah, well I was talking to Annabeth-” Grover held up a pleading hand before Percy could interrupt him- “She’s really smart, Percy! She could help you out after school!”

“Why did you have to tell her anything? I don’t even know her!”

“I didn’t tell her anything about that!” Grover argued. He knew it was hard for Percy to talk about people about his dyslexia and ADHD; he wouldn’t betray his trust like that. Little did Percy know, however, that Annabeth was in the same boat. “I just told her you needed some help with some subjects because I know she’s really good at all that stuff and she actually volunteered herself to tutor you.” It had taken Grover aback a bit actually. Annabeth was nice and always there to help, but she didn’t take on to new people right away. Grover hadn’t gotten the impression that she disliked Percy, but it usually took her a lot longer to show interest in new people. The only other person he knew she’d gotten along with right away was Thalia. Now that Grover thought about it, Percy and Thalia did have a lot in common, though.

“Tutor me?” Percy was looking thoroughly annoyed, eyes fixed on the water before him.

“She’s not going to charge you or anything,” Grover winced at his own comment. It was hard to manage Percy’s temper around this subject. He hated feeling pitied and wasn’t big on asking for help. “She’s just trying to help and she’s new here. She doesn’t know many people besides me and Thalia.” Percy sighed. “She’s the smartest person I know, Percy. I trust her. You met her. She’s cool.” Grover could tell he was going to give in. He knew Percy was worried about keeping his grades up. His swim coach had let him on the team under the condition that he would get his GPA up enough to get out of probation from the school. Grover was also secretly excited about his two best friends possibly becoming friends themselves.

“Fine,” Percy finally said, bringing his whistle up to his lips at the sight of a group of small girls chasing each other. He gave one firm blow and pointed at the sign that read No Running when they both whipped their heads towards him. “I’ve got some free time on Monday after practice.”

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

Annabeth tapped her pen impatiently against the table she’d settled in at the library. It didn’t help her temper that today she found out that this same pen, which she’d been using since the beginning of the semester, was bright red. The color of romance, her father had once jokingly told her. And danger, Annabeth now thought. Yeah, that seemed more accurate in her case.

The guy was almost an hour late. She was about to give up when she heard what sounded like a chair being knocked over, a loud hush, and a quick apology. A few seconds later, there was Percy Jackson. His hair was still wet from what she assumed was swim practice and he was holding a battered skateboard under his arm. Annabeth was once again struck by the intense green of his eyes. She thought she’d gotten used to the color after seeing it everywhere for the past couple of weeks, but it still floored her. There was nothing else that was that exact shade of green.

“You’re late.”

He at least managed to look guilty as he pulled a chair out noisily, earning him a death glare from the librarian at the desk. “I know. I’m so sorry. We ended late and the subway broke down or something.”

Annabeth would’ve shrugged that off as a half-assed excuse but every time she’d gotten on the subway that week it had stopped for almost an hour. Percy also had a very sincere way of saying things that kind of put her on edge. She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s fine. Did you bring your book?” He pulled a history textbook from his battered backpack. She tried to ignore the fact he’d dogeared the page. “Fall of Constantinople, right?”

“Yeah.” She could tell this whole ordeal embarrassed him a little. It was becoming harder and harder to remember she was annoyed at him. “I just...can’t seem to understand why this city was so important. From what I managed to extract from the other chapter, it seems like this whole empire was already done for.”

“I mean it was certainly in decline, and the Ottoman Turks had taken the Balkans and Anatolia by this point. So that made Constantinople the last city holding up what used to be this seemingly unbreachable empire.” Annabeth saw Percy nodding along and jutting down some notes. There was no other way to call it, it was cute. “Constantinople also represented Mehmed’s rival religion.”

“Wait, so he tried to take it again? This Meh...however you say his name? He’d already tried before, right?”

“No, that was his dad.” Annabeth leaned closer to the passage Percy was looking at. He pushed the book towards her so she could get a better look. The font was so tiny that Annabeth almost got dizzy. It would’ve taken her almost an hour to decipher just one paragraph. She pushed the book back towards him, hoping he hadn’t noticed. Thankfully, she had always been good at remembering names and they’d gone over this in her school in San Francisco last year. “Murad was the one who failed to take the city and then his son Mehmed tried again and succeeded. He got this Hungarian artillery expert, Urban I think he was called, to build him a cannon powerful enough to take down the walls of the city.”

“Sorry, could you spell that last name?”

Something about the question made Annabeth falter for a second. Percy appeared to understand most of what they were talking about. It was the names that seemed to stump him. It sounded a little familiar. “Sure.” Annabeth spelled the name out for him and she watched him make some new notes. She thought about how Grover never failed to bring up Percy one way or another when she complained about homework assignments. “Once Mehmed seized the city he used the emperor’s famed cathedral as a mosque. I can’t remember the name though. Is it in your book? I don’t know if they’d want you to know it for class.”

Annabeth observed as Percy scanned the page; she could practically feel the frustration oozing off of him. She was absolutely certain her suspicions were correct when she saw him push the book a bit far away, a trick she herself had tried many times. “Hey Percy,” he grunted in response, still absorbed in the textbook, “are you maybe...dyslexic?”

She felt him tense right away. Grover hadn’t told her for a reason, it was clearly a touchy subject for him. Annabeth was grateful that Grover had also clearly failed to tell Percy about her. “I just think that’s why Grover brought all of this up.” He was now looking at her, a complicated look on his face, like he didn’t know whether or not he should be getting offended. “It’s just that,” it had always been hard for her to talk about it too. It was like a cosmic joke for someone that loved reading so much to be made in a way that made it almost impossible to do so. “I am too, dyslexic I mean. Just looking at that book just now made me want to throw up.” His expression immediately softened. Annabeth noted the way he could easily go from one emotion to another. “That font size is awful.”

“I know right. And it’s and older edition so it doesn’t have an audio version.”

“I think I still have one for my textbook last year. I don’t know if it has everything in this one but-”

“No, yeah. That’d be great! I mean if you don’t mind-”

Annabeth chuckled, definitely cute. “I don’t, Percy.”

He thanked her once again and they finally exchanged numbers. They got through the main events of Constantinople. Annabeth remembered everything pretty well and Percy took notes. She felt light as a feather the whole time. She tried to ignore it. It’d never been this way with anyone she liked in the past. Her crush on Luke had been anything but light. Being with Percy was just nice. She didn’t know about the whole ‘soulmate’ ordeal, she didn’t even know if she liked him that way really, but she definitely wanted to hang out with him again.

An hour later he casually checked his phone and almost jumped off his chair, earning him yet another glare from the librarian. Annabeth tried to mask her snort as a cough. “Sorry,” he said quickly. He turned to Annabeth. “I have to go. Are you free Thursday?” She was pretty sure she would be but she’d have to check. She could tell he was in a hurry though so she told Percy she’d text him. “Thanks again! See you then.”

Annabeth smiled silently to herself as Percy hurried out of the library, bumping into several chairs and failing beautifully at making a quiet exit. Her smiled melted when she looked down at the pen she was still holding. Bright red.

[fanaste]

New Years? I’ll Parse.

December 31st 2014 – 11:57pm (three minutes to midnight)

They were fighting.  He got that.  They’d had a fight, he got that too.  But Jesus fucking Christ they’d had lots of fights before.  He was familiar with the silent treatment okay? He was.  But it’d been weeks.  Weeks that had morphed into months and now he’s sitting here staring at his God damn phone at a number he hasn’t seen flash up on his screen since last December.

And maybe because of that someone could say they had officially parted on bad terms but if you’d asked Kent, if you ask him now even he’d tell you they weren’t the worst terms they’d ever parted on.  At least Jack was still breathing when Kent left him.

Someone pushes the door to the smoking area open and Kent hears the tantalising notes of the Beyonce song that always makes him think of fucking.  It’s about drinking and fucking and she’s on the beach writhing around and if Kent were into women he’d be into that.  As it happens he’s not into women.  He’s into emotionally unavailable French Canadians with an ego the size of his home country.

“You can’t…you don’t come to my fucking school unannounced-“

“Because you shut me out!”

“And corner me in my room.”

“I’m trying to help-“

“And expect me to do whatever you want-“

He was just trying to help.  Kent promised Jack he’d come back for him.  Maybe not out loud, not with words Jack could take and keep inside him for cold nights when Jack thought he’d left all possibility of Hockey behind in a sick puddle on the bathroom floor.  Jack had to know he hadn’t stayed away because he wanted to.  His parents must have told them he’d tried to visit but that Alicia had told him not to come.

“Don’t come Kent.  He need to rest.  He needs to know there’s life outside of Hockey.”

And like an idiot.  Like a newly drafted NHL player idiot he listened.

But he never forgot.  How could he?

Jack was the love of his life.

In the background Beyonce sings about being in love.  Kent’s in love all right and he’s shit faced.  And this song reminds him of frat house hallways and hands groping desperately at a body he hadn’t touched in too long but that felt familiar as his own.

“Fuck Jack! What do you want me to say? That I miss you? I miss you, ok? I miss you.”

He was just trying to fucking help! But Jack was too stubborn, to determined to try and fail on his own and face his father’s rejection like some martyr.  And Kent knew he’d hate it, he’d hate it and he’d love it because deep down he wanted it because he felt like he deserved it.

“You always say that.”

In the spaces between his hammering heart beats Kent felt the edges of his longing turn to anger.  Why was Jack being like this? Why was he throwing Kent’s help away? Why was he trying to throw Kent away? And on the wave of those questions came more questions like, why hadn’t Jack tried to call? Kent found his fucking body didn’t he remember that? Hadn’t anyone told him? Didn’t he care?!

“You know what Zimmermann? You think you’re too fucked up to care about? That you’re not good enough? Everyone already knows what you are but it’s people like me who still car!”

“Shut up.”

Jack didn’t want his help then fucking fine.

“You’re scared everyone else is going to find out you’re worthless right? Oh don’t worry! Just give it a few seasons Jack trust me!”

“G-get out of my room.”

Heaving in the silence Kent swallowed around the jagged parts of his heart and in the hardest voice he could muster said,

“Fine.  Shut me out.  Again.”

Truthfully Kent expected to ride out the next few days of the silent treatment, give Jack a chance to calm down, to realise that his pride wasn’t going to get him anywhere fast.  Magnanimously Kent gave him a week to sort his shit out before texting,

‘I’m sorry about last weekend.  Please consider my offer’.

But all he got was more silence.  Silence in January, silence in February and come draft day there was more of the same except this silence was worse because it was screamed all over the sports networks and blogs.

Zimmermann signs with Providence Falconers

Kent skated so hard that day he puked.

Now Kent stands in the smoking area of a club on the strip with too much coke in the air and too much liquor in his body and he’s staring down at his phone and cursing Jack Zimmermann’s name.  Sagging against the dirty brick wall he takes a deep breath and with every cell in his body and all the power in his mind he makes a wish.  He makes several wishes, actually.

I wish I was happy.

I wish I was stronger.

I wish I didn’t know how to love.

I wish I’d never fallen in love with Jack Zimmermann.

I wish I’d never met Jack Zimmermann.

Something in him shifts anxiously after that last one and his eyes snap open.   No.  He doesn’t wish that.  He doesn’t.  He can’t because…because he doesn’t know who he is if a part of him doesn’t love a man he can’t have.

He pulls up Jack’s number again.  Sooner or later he’ll see Jack.  They’ll face off on the ice and even though they’ll be playing against one another he’ll remember what it was like to play in the Q.  He’ll remember that when they played together nothing could beat them.  When they hit the ice Kent will look at Jack and Jack will smile and he will know that whatever happened last year doesn’t matter.

Maybe Jack will love him again.

He brings the phone to his ear and listen to the ring.

“You’ve reached the T-Mobile voicemail service for ‘Jack Zimmermann’,” Kent’s heart clenches at the sound of his voice.  “This person is unavailable to take your call.  Please leave a message after the tone.”

Kent hangs up.

In the background the music stops and a voice, muffled by the thick walls of the exterior, announces.  “It’s almost midnight! Countdown with me!”

Ten

Kent brings the phone to his ear again.

Nine

It rings.

Eight

Seven

“You’ve reached the t-mobile voicemail service for ‘Jack Zimmermann’,”

Six

“this person is unavailable to take your call,”

Five

“Please leave a message after the tone.”

Four

Three

Two

One

“Hey it’s- it’s me.  Happy New Year.”

December 31st 2015 – 10:55pm

Kent Zips up his pants, fishes his cell out and leans against the stall door.  The music is muted in the bathroom but he can’t tell if it’s because it’s any quieter in here or if it’s just the ringing in his ears.  Occasionally the hiss of urine hitting porcelain reminds him where he is but soon his focus on the little glowing screen drowns even that out.  The little glowing screen all lit up with the sky blues of twitter.

That Bittle kid is tweeting up a storm.  He’s back in Samwell for the new year and there’s pictures of him leaning heavily into bodies twice as tall and twice as wide as himself.  Not that it’s hard when then guy’s the size of a thimble.

@omgcheckplease @clarissaexplainsitall showin’ bros how it’s done.

Kent’s signal is shitty in here and it takes his phone an agonisingly long time to pull up the picture of Lardo grinning as Holsom and Ranster(???) bow before her.  She has a heeled foot on Holsom’s shoulder and her shutter shades, that can hide a look of determination so scary Kent knew he was done for the moment he accepted the pong ball, do nothing to obscure the triumph she exudes.

@omgcheckplease reigning 2016 champion @clarissaexplainsitall

Kent closes the photo and scrolls up and down looking for a tweet, any tweet, that’ll clue him in to what’s going on in Samwell…or more importantly what’s going on with a certain dark haired, blue eyed Canadian.

Kent’s not a fan of Eric’s, not in the least, but he’s become an avid checker of his feed ever since a picture of Jack turned up over the fourth of July weekend.  A picture of him looking comfortable in a kitchen straight out of a Southern Homes Style magazine.

They haven’t spoken since the game.  They didn’t even speak at the game just exchanged passive aggressive jibes through reporters who resurrected all their old clips from the Q helping Kent to relieve the now excruciating memories of good times playing with a guy Kent thought to call his soul mate.

At the end of the game Kent tried to get hold of Jack but he was long gone.  At least Kent got the game winning goal.  If there was ever a better fuck you to someone it was a game loss for Jack.

Finally when his finger hurts from swiping and his eyes g smudgy Kent locks his phone and slips it back in his pocket.

A second later a smack on the door makes him jump so hard he nearly topples into the toilet.

“Hey open the fuck up!” A familiar voice bellows.

“We know you’re in there Parson! There’s a shot here with your name on it!”

Kent takes a deep breath and tries to pull himself together.  When he opens the door he covers any sign of heartache with a glower at two of his team mates.  “What the fuck were you doing in there?” Cray peers curiously past him.

“Making sure they’ve got the right number for your mom on the wall.” Kent retorts summoning the cocky half smile he wears in all he posters and cards he scrawls his signature over after games.  All it takes is this quirk and Kent’s untouchable again.  The boys follow him across to the sink.  There’s no soap and all the taps do is dribble water when he turns them.  He can’t believe they charge fifty bucks for tickets to this event and can’t even spring for decent plumbing.  If he was a better team captain he’d have sanitiser with him.

Jeff guffaws and Cray flips him off.  “Quit hiding like a bitch in here and come join the party.  The company got hotter.”

“How,” Kent scoffs, “I was in here.”

Cray gives him a sarcastic little smile, “You think you’re the hottest member of this team huh?”

Jeff ushers them both out of the men’s room.

“I am the hottest member!” Kent shouts over yet another terrible remix of a song he likes.

Cray mimes that he can’t hear him.

Kent rolls his eyes and pushes through the sweaty corridor of bodies that strain their necks to see the three figures heading up to the coveted VIP area.  Kent wipes sweat from his brow that he’s not convinced is his with a grimace.  He doesn’t want to be here and he’s not drunk enough yet to forget that he hates New Years.  It’s the same shit every year.  A different party, a different city but it’s always the same vibe.  He’s always with people he likes, he always drinks too much and then makes the same promise.

He’s going to live life like he never met Jack Zimmermann.

He’s not drunk enough yet though but luckily for him (or at least as promised by Cray) there are six women dressed in flirty little skirts and tops waiting for them on the leather seats specifically designed to make you feel like you can drink (and snort) as much as you like and it’ll all slide down you and not stain just like the liquor you’ll spill on their wipe clean couches.

Kent takes a deep breath and reinforces the face that makes it look like he’s into this.  “Where are the shots?”

Jeff gives him an indecipherable look and situates himself on the bench furthest from the girls.  Cray rolls his eyes as if to say ‘whipped’.

One of the girls leaps up, prompted by her friends, and crosses the small space towards him.  She’s wearing heels, not that Kent’s looking at her feet, but her tottering is unmistakeable and more prominent still because she’s obviously drunk.  “I’m Amber.” She says when they’re within shouting distance.

Kent smiles like his posters.  “Hi Amber.”

One hand rises to tuck her hair behind her ear and she smiles coyly down at her chest.  It’s dusted with glitter Kent can see it shimmering in the strobes.  “You like to party?” she asks withdrawing a little white baggy from her sparkly cleavage.  When she looks up Kent thinks her eyes flash black.  Kent wonders if this is a sign that he should give up now and just let someone drag him into oblivion the quick way.  His eyes snag on the baggy full of shit that gets guys benched Amber shakes in her long fingertips.

He thinks about it.  It’s a party.  There’s only the team up here.  The team and six women who won’t keep quiet about partying with the hottest members of the Las Vegas Aces.  Who will regale their friends with very detailed stories, from what they wore to what they took.  Time feels suspended as he tries to make his decision but his brain is foggy enough that he quickly bores of his pros and cons list and where he falls on the turns has him nodding faintly.

He’s nowhere near the ice now.  “Yeah.” He breathes, “I like to party.”

Amber’s grin is a mirror of his own as she pops open the bag and sprinkles a line across the rise of her left breast.  Kent feels like a rapper when he snorts it from her skin and accepts the chaser shot Cray hands him.

He feels like a NHL player.

He feels like the Kent Parson they write about on the blogs.

In the background someone mutters, “Just like Zimmermann.”

December 31st 2015 – 11:30pm

Kent doesn’t know who dragged who but he’s not moving anymore.  He’s pressed up against a toilet stall door and whoever it was that was giving him eyes from across the room is now giving him eyes from the floor as they kneel ready to make good on a threat delivered between the dancefloor and the sticky club hall.

I’ll show you a good time.

This isn’t Kent’s first rodeo, he’s made toilet stall fucks into an art form and so he bites down on his lips to smother the embarrassingly loud moan of relief when the guys plump lips wrap around his dick and a hot wet tongue circles the head.

Kent puts out a hand to brace himself on the stall wall behind his kneeled companion.  His hips jolt as he shifts and the guy pulls back with a protesting, “Dude.”

“Sorry.” Kent mutters and means it.  The guy gives him a sceptical look and Kent would reassure him that he isn’t into forcing strangers to deep throat him if he could find any of the words needed to articulate that and sound genuine.  Instead he prompt’s the guy with a “So?” desperate to drown out the droning remix of a Solvig song with the sound of this guy sucking his dick.

Mercifully the guy takes a breath and takes Kent into his mouth again.  He knows what he’s doing and when Kent feels the guys other hand cup his balls he thinks that perhaps this could be over before midnight, just in time for Kent to stumble out and say Happy New Year as if he thinks this year is going to be any different from the last.  Or the one before that, or any of the ones before his best friend tried to kill himself and cast Kent out of his new post suicide life.

Kent blinks slowly and slower still until a particularly lascivious lap of his friends tongue pushes him far from the bathroom at Midas and back to somewhere they’re not playing terrible remixes of songs he likes.  Somewhere the music is something with a bit more twang and completely ill fitting to the Canadian mansion he’s in.

The mouth on his there isn’t hurried or impersonal.  It’s slow and loving and a little shy because he’s just seventeen and both of them pretend to know what they’re doing with girls but with each other there’s nothing but honesty, and so when Jack takes him into his mouth it’s with an uncertainty that makes Kent both impatient and fond.  Kent reaches out to caress Jack’s cheek, to tell him he feels so good, that his mouth is amazing and that he’s about to come.  It’s crude and scripted but he hopes that between the stock phrases they’ve picked up from all those pornos that Jack hears what Kent is really saying.

You’re perfect.  I can’t believe you’re doing this for me.  I love you.

They never said they loved each other but you didn’t get chemistry on the ice like theirs without heart.

A tug on his dick pulls him from the tentative ministrations of the past and plants him back in the toilet stall of the club he wished he’d never fucking suggested for the night.  His hand hovers in mid air paused on it’s way to the strangers face.  The guy gives it a sideways look but doesn’t say anything.  Instead he pushes his face down and down and down until his nose brushes the hairs at Kent’s groin.

Kent moans.

“You like that?” The guy pants his lips spit slick and eyes glassy from too much fairy dust.

All he can do is nod because his throat is throbbing so hard he feels like he can’t breathe.

“Fuck yeah you do.” The guy smirks moving his tight grip up and down Kent’s flesh.  Kent’s belly quivers and his balls tighten between his legs.

Kent can’t remember the guy’s name and it doesn’t matter.  It won’t matter when he’s come, it won’t matter when they leave the stall and go back outside to toast another year of fucking around and being fucking miserable and wishing he’d never met Jack fucking Zimmermann and then taking it back because he daren’t risk the wish coming true.  Because what excuse would he have for burying his misery in every body he meets at a club three sheets to the wind if he can’t blame it on Jack?

What would he do with all the mental space freed up by getting over Jack?

The hand stops moving and clamps around the base of his dick.  Kent mewls belatedly realising he was close, so close.

“Not yet.” The voice below him growls.

Fuck you yes yet Kent scowls removing the guys hand.

The guy smirks at him and mutters something that doesn’t sound English.  Kent’s belly clenches and his dick pulses.  When he looks down again all he can see is dark hair.

“Can- uh, can you speak French?” he asks brokenly.

“Huh?” the guy frowns up at him shattering the bubble.

“Nothing – nothing forget it.”

The guy gives him another wary look like he’s deciding this is more hassle than it’s worth and Kent wouldn’t blame him but he could kill him if he stops now because he’s so, so close.

In the background the music the cuts off.  A second later the chant starts.

Ten

Nine

Eight

Seven

Kent’s once again enveloped in the wet heat of the strangers mouth.

Six

Five

Four

Three

His belly tightens and his leg shakes.

Two

One

In a rush his body tightens and the black behind his lids turns white as the cum painting his partners face.

The guy turns to spit what load he caught in his mouth, down the toilet.

Happy New Year.

December 31st 2016 – 3:00pm

“Last year Hudson said you all went to a club.” Lewsey says scooping up his Taco but leaving half the filling behind on the Styrofoam plate.

“Uh huh.” Kent answers taking care to keep his own Taco filling in the damn Taco because he’s not an animal and this is not his only meal of the day so he’s not going to act like it is…well not in front of the rookies who are acting every bit like the children they are when Lewis pouts and misses the hint to quit while he’s ahead.  “And?” Kent asks after he’s finally swallowed.

“I’m just sayin’ a house party…it’s a little…” he gropes around for the right word and Kent hopes to god it’s the right word because he’s in a pissy mood.  Killing himself in the gym was not the good mood shortcut he’d hoped it be and despite Cray engaging him in a squat competition (and losing sorely which always makes Kent’s gloating a little sweeter) the endorphin’s washed away with the soapy run off down the drain.

He’s tried to solve the problem with food but that’s not working either.

“High school?” Cray finishes because he loves watching a car crash.

Kent shoots Cray a dirty look that he brushes off with an obtuse smile.  Kent takes a delaying bite and when he’s finished he gives Lewsey the kind of look you reserve for the child that’s been winding you up all day.  It’s a look he inherited from his mum and makes him look just like her.  “We all went to a club and it was hella expensive and wasn’t that much fun.  Jeff’s got a huge fucking house, the booze is free and the music’ll be better.” He takes a breather and sips his soda, “But by all means go to a club and stand outside in line all night.  You won’t be missed.”

Lewsey gapes and Taco filling falls from his mouth.  He struggles to catch it back, “Erm.” He chews quickly, “No it’s-“ he looks at Cray for help but Cray’s too busy trying to smother his laughter.  “It’s fine.”

“Is it?” Kent asks tartly.  “You don’t have to come.”

Lewsey once again looks to Cray for help which is stupid because the guy lives for awkward moments like these.  Everyone thinks Cray’s a nice guy because he doesn’t verbally give the rookies shit, but none of them have wisened up to the traps he silently lays.

“No, no! I want to.” Lewsey insists.

“It’s not mandatory.” Cray says with artful nonchalance.

Kent looks down at the table for a knife but all he sees is a straw.  If he gets an eye it’ll shut Cray up but he’ll only get one shot and he can’t vouch for his accuracy.  Which is ironic considering what he does for a living.

“It isn’t?” Lewsey doesn’t sound sure.

Before he answers Kent finishes his Taco.  He takes his sweet time with it and Cray doesn’t fill the gap of silence which leaves their rookie to glance between them anxiously while nibbling on his own food.

By the time Kent’s done Lewsey’s practically purple.

“Look,” Kent begins, wiping his greasy fingers on a napkin.  “Come, don’t come, I don’t give a shit.” He screws up his tissue and punctuates his words by throwing it onto Lewsey’s plate.

“No, no! I wan-wanna come.” Lewsey stutters.

Kent shrugs and gathers up the their debris.  “Whatever man.  Be there or not it’s your night.” And with that he takes off for the trash can at the back of the restaurant.

While Kent’s in the bathroom Lewsey looks helplessly at Cray who shrugs like he doesn’t know what’s up with their captain but looks like he knows exactly what’s up with their captain.

“Did I- did I really offend Parser or something?” Lewsey asks slowly.

Cray makes to shrug again but he likes Lewsey the best out of all the rookies.  Lewsey reminds him of his sister (the only family member he can stand), he even kind of looks like her…or the male version of her at least which is more than he does because he got their dad’s looks which includes their dads unfortunate nose and tendency to put weight on round the face.  Cray takes a deep breath then on an exhale answers, “Parser hates New Years.”

Lewsey takes a moment to digest this.  He considers it for a moment after that and then says, “My brother hates New Years too but that’s because he got run over when he was a kid and I’m pretty sure he has PTSD from it.  Or at least that’s what my sister thinks.  I think he just hates that he never has anyone to kiss at midnight.” He shrugs as though it’s just one of those mysteries he’ll never figure out.

Cray loves this kid.

“Does Kent have PTSD?” he asks.

Cray blinks a little startled.  He doesn’t know if Kent has PTSD per say but he knows that when it comes to December thirty first there’s something ugly that unfurls inside Kent.  “Nah he just never has anyone to kiss at midnight.” Cray lies easily.

Lewsey rears back like this is the most confusing part of his afternoon so far.  Not the being abducted at two thirty to go get Taco’s from a tiny fast food joint right on the lip of the city.  Not being told to leave his phone behind on pain of endless drills.  Not being told that he can only order an everything Taco or a nothing Taco with extra refried beans.  Not being forced to wear shorts even though it’s a little too chilly for that.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Lewsey declares.  “He’s Kent Parson! Captain of the Las Vegas Aces.”

Cray’s smile makes his face ache.  “And yet,” he tries not to laugh, “he finds himself puckering up into air at midnight.”

Lewsey lowers his voice, “Every year?” he asks disbelievingly.

“Every year.” Cray confirms.

“Is it a suspicion thing? Like Moller and the…” he makes a crude motion with his hand.

“No.  Not many people know this but,” Cray leans in conspiratorially, “Kent Parson has no game.”

“No!” Lewsey practically gasps.  “No way!” he almost sounds scared like if Kent Parson has no game then none of them do.

“Honest to God.” Cray crosses his fingers under the table.

When Kent returns it takes one look at Lewsey’s confounded expression for him to turn a suspicious one on Cray.  “What did you tell him?”

“I told him you woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning and not to take your piss poor mood personally.” Cray lies seamlessly.

Kent doesn’t miss a beat, “You told him I got not game didn’t you?”

Cray’s grin is shit eating, “He believed me too.  You need to pick up more, it’s getting too easy.”

Kent flips him off.  “Crays a liar and a scumbag,” Kent educates Lewsey, “and out of the two of us he’s been celibate the longest.”

“Helps me focus my game.” Cray replies sombrely.

“Right…” Lewsey’s eyes dart between them both.

“Let’s blow this joint.” Kent pauses, “If you’re not familiar with the term Cray it’s when-��

“Fuck you man.” Cray shoves his shoulder and they burst out into the white sun of the parking lot.

Cray cries shotgun and runs for the car like a child.  Kent walks slower because his hamstrings are fucking killing him and Lewsey hovers in the gap between them like an excited child but one that doesn’t want to lose sight of his parents.  When he reaches out for the backdoor handle Kent frowns.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting in the car.” Lewsey rolls his eyes.

“Rookies walk home.” Kent deadpans.

Lewsey laughs haltingly, “Har har.” He tries the handle again but Kent won’t unlock the car.  “Seriously?” Lewsey squeaks.  “How am I supposed to get back?”

Kent shrugs.

“Come on man.” He whines tugging on the handle.

Kent motions for him to back away from the car and Lewsey retreats a step.  “Next time,” Kent advises opening the drivers side and getting in, “don’t be so ready to believe Cray’s lies.” He slams the door down and a second later the window rolls down.  “See you at Jeff’s later.” Kent salutes him then starts the car.

Lewsey makes an aborted sound of protest but Kent’s car peels out of the lot and he doesn’t even break when he meets the road.

Lewsey stares after them long after they’re gone.  And even longer after that when he realises he doesn’t have his phone.

December 31st 2016 – 6:02pm

“You’re wearing that?” Kent leans forward to squint at the screen even though he can see Katie perfectly.

His sister gives an impatient little snort, “The hanger makes it look shorter.” She says to reassure him.

Not reassured in the least Kent remarks, “I think the dress makes the dress look short.”

Kate’s withering look is just as effective on screen as it is in person, “I don’t tell you how to dress.” She retorts.

“I don’t wear tiny dresses.” He argues.

“Only because you don’t have the legs for it!”

There’s a pause and then both Parson siblings dissolve into laughter.  Kent clutches his heart dramatically and in between guffaws pouts, “Wow babe.  Ouch.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Katie sighs giving a rueful little smile.

“You already had this talk with mom eh?”

“I already had this talk with mom.” She nods.

Kent sits back feeling like an asshole.  “Sorry.”

“It’s fine but it’s not like I can help being hot.” She smirks.

Kent rolls his eyes but says, “Well it is to be expected of the sister of Kent Parson.”

Katie looks confused, “Is this Kent Parson massive nerd and consistent loser of hungry hippos, pool, connect four, fuzboll and basically every other game that isn’t on the ice?”

“No it’d be the other Kent.  The one who’s good at everything.” He says sardonically.

Katie shrugs clueless.  “Never met the guy.”

“Christ put mom back on.” He groans.

Katie’s eyes bug out of her head and Kent’s about to tell her to calm down when she sputters “Is that Cray?!”

Kent does a double take over his shoulder when he sees what Cray’s wearing…or not wearing.  He thinks this is bad enough but Cray’s wearing the boxers with beavers all over them, a nod to a very lewd joke he will definitely not share with his sister.  From the screen there’s a wolf whistle and said sister sings, “Hey hot stuff! Where’d you get that body?”

Kent slams the laptop screen down.  “I was on skype to my little sister!”

“Yeah,” Cray laughs, “And she can chirp with the best of them.”

Kent will not tell Katie that in case she feels entitled to gloat.  “What the fuck are you doing in your underwear in my room?”

“I thought you liked that kind of thing.” Cray scoffs.

Kent feels his heart leap into the back of his throat.  “Why the fuck would you think that?” He chokes out venomously.

Cray rears back, “I was joking Christ.  Fragile masculinity much?”

Kent could howl if he were capable of finding anything to do with his panic funny.  He hasn’t been able to relax since Zimmermann and his stupid blonde boyfriend came out on centre ice after the cup win this summer.  He knows it’s ironic to feel even more trapped now when Zimm’s no doubt did it to unchain not only himself but many others living closeted life in the world of professional sports.  Kent doesn’t know if Zimmermann forgot what that sort of scrutiny would do to everyone in his life or if he just didn’t care but on the cusp of the big reveal came a litany of blog posts that spent way too much time looking for clues about his orientation in his past and unearthed some rumours about he and Kent that sat way too close for comfort.

Kent hasn’t said a thing about them but he’s been approached several times and even now, all these months later, he still has to watch what he says when Jack’s name comes up.

It also means he’s had to act like the big ol’ straight bro in the locker room just to convince the other guys that the rumours are just that, rumours for teenage girls who romanticise gay relationships between hot guys.

Honestly it’s more exhausting than the regular old pretending he was doing before.

“You’re still half naked in my room.” Kent blinks at Cray.

“I was looking for a spare towel.  I gotta shower.”

He couldn’t come in looking for a towel before he took his god damn clothes off? Kent girits his teeth.  “What’s wrong with your shower?”

“The waters still not back on.  Jesus Christ Parson what crawled up your butt and died? I shower here all the time.”

Cray’s right.  Parson lets him shower here all the time, he’s even peed while Cray’s been in the shower so it’s not like he hasn’t seen Cray’s bubble butt before.  But (butt!) it’s different now because before Kent was straight and now he’s…well he’s never been straight but the guys didn’t know that, and the ones who did suspect were such a minority as to be easy to ignore or convince otherwise.

Fucking Zimmermann.

“So can I use your shower?”

Kent deflates and hopes his expression is less anxiety and more apology for snapping ‘irrationally’, “Yeah.  Towels are in the airing cupboard it’s the door beside my bedroom door.”

“Ahh,” Cray hums, “So that’s what that room is.”

Kent almost doesn’t dare ask but he’s desperate for the distraction, “What did you think it was?”

“Your red room.” Cray snickers.

December 31st 2016 – 9:30pm

Swoops opens the door in a glittery green shirt that makes Kent question his whole existence.  “Parse, glad you could make it.” Swoops exchanges a handshake and when both men pull each other in for a back slap Swoops speaks against his ear, “mention the shirt and I’ll pee in your beers.”

When Kent pulls back he’s smirking.

“Kent.” Swoops warns.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

“You two spend too much time together.” Swoops’ girlfriend sashays down the hall.  She looks stunning in a velvet grey dress that hugs her hips in a way that means Swoops is gonna be cleaning up everybody’s drool all night.  Jasmine hip checks Swops out of the way and embraces Kent.  “Glad you could make it.” She presses a kiss to his cheek.

Kent’s missed Jasmine and Swoops over Christmas while they went to Spain to visit Jas’ parents and he opens his mouth to tell them so when Hudson interrupts from over his shoulder.

“You almost sound like you mean it.” He guffaws shouldering his way past Kent through the front door.  Neither Swoops not Kent miss the stiffening of Jasmines spine or the tightening of her smile.

There’s a history there.  A history Swoops will never talk about because he’s been advised not to jeopardies team dynamics.  It’s a history he won’t tell Kent in case Kent feels obligated to do something.  It’s a history that makes Jasmine suddenly look self-conscious in her outfit.

Kent pulls away and he watches as Swoops and Hudson exchange a perfunctory handshake and back slap.  Hudson turns and does the same with Kent.  It’s full of just as much feeling as Swoops’.  “Glad you could make it Parser.  Missing the club?” Hudson’s eyes glint with innuendo.

Kent tries to head his flush off before it reaches his face.  “Only thing I’m missing is a beer.”

“Bar’s where you left it.” Swoops waves them in.

December 31st 2016 – 10:30pm

“You should have seen this guy! He looked like fucking Puff daddy snorting coke off that chicks tit.” Hudson claps Kent on the back so hard he sloshes beer on Swoops’ carpet.

“Shit.”

Swoops leaps up with him, “I got it Parse.” He puts out a hand to stop Kent from rising from the couch to do it himself but Kent’s sick of hearing Hudson tell a story that makes him sound like a grade A douchebag.  Kent’s a dick he doesn’t exactly work to prove otherwise but the coke thing was exceptionally douchey and he’s only ever done it once.  But once is all it takes and now it’s Hudson’s favourite story to tell.

He wasn’t even there until after Kent had done it but nobody ever seems to fact check him.  Hudson’s a good story teller and even Kent finds himself believing his version of events because it makes him sound less like a fratty white boy and more like the pimp people expect a professional athlete to be.

“Parse I got it.” Swoops assures him a second time for show when Kent is on his feet and following him into the kitchen.  Jasmine whirls round wine glass to her lips looking guilty that she’s been caught necking pinot.

“Having a good time baby?” Swoops laughs.

“It’ll be great when I get to bottom of this bottle.” She pours another generous glass and waves the bottle at Kent, “Want one sweetheart?”

Something in Kent will always soften when Jasmine calls him sweetheart.  It’s the way she says it with such fondness in her voice.  It fools Kent into thinking that Jasmine loves him too.  He’s five beers in and it’s easy to say yes to another drink and bask in the warmth of the press of Jasmines lips to his cheek and her hand cupping his jaw.  “You okay?”

Kent nods.

“Hudson’s telling the coke story again.” Swoops shuts the fridge.

Jasmine tucks her lips between her teeth in displeasure.  “What so he thinks you’re like him now?” her voice is sharper than the knife on the cheese board.

“He’ll get bored in a second when he realises all the women here have heard the story.” Kent waves it off.

“Which one?” Jasmine can’t fight snorting.

“All of them.” Jeff says meaningfully.

There’s that history again.  Kent’s got enough beer in him to give him amnesia and ask about these other stories but there’s a crash from the study that sends Swoops flying with the names of someone’s kids on his lips.

Jasmine swipes  a bit of cheese and holds it out to Kent, “Soak some of that up yeah?” She gestures to the bottle in Kent’s hand.  Kent waves off her concern because he’s very determined to get wasted before twelve and he’s only got – he checks his watch- ninety minutes left.  He chugs the rest of the beer and steals Jasmine’s glass.

“One day,” she sighs, “you’re going to have to get over him.”

“Who?”

Jasmine gives him a look.

“Who says?” he gasps wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Your sanity?” Kent reaches for the wine but Jasmine pushes it out of his reach.  “Come on Kent.”

“Don’t tell me how to live my life.” He scowls childishly.

Jasmine gives him a long look but when he doesn’t rush to apologise she leaves the kitchen.  Kent snags the wine bottle and takes a swig trying to fill the space that Jasmine’s disappointment hollows out of him.  When it doesn’t work he goes out to freeze in the garden.

December 31st 2016 – 11:25pm

Kent’s butt has gone numb but he’s still staring at the god damn app.

He wants to say he’s happy for them.  He wants to get behind them like everyone else and say words like ‘good for them’ and ‘that’s real progress they’re pioneering’ and ‘we should all representation’ and other sentences with buzz words like that but he just…can’t.  Kent can’t support them not because he’s a raging homophobe but because he’s broken hearted and bitter.

Silence he could take.  Being frozen out he could take.  But seeing them like that? On the ice in front of thousands of fans and cameras that broadcast to millions more all over the country, all over the world, kissing? Kissing like they were in love? Kissing like they’d waited their lifetimes to do it?

Kissing like they were fucking happy.

There was nothing but white noise in his head when he saw it on Cray’s phone but after they’d gotten outside, after Carly couldn’t be heard giving his opinion like anyone gave a shit, his brain filled up with the kind of howling Kent was terrified people could hear.

That was supposed to be us!

His brain still screams it sometimes.  It screams it when his eyes snag on a picture of Jack beaming at the camera holding a fucking pie that isn’t on any diet plan Kent’s ever prescribed to.  He screams it when he sees a picture of them kissing on instagram or twitter.  He yowls it when he sees the picture of Jack passed out in bed, covers hiked up to his waist and hair all sleep mussed.

Roadies are tough even on the veterans the caption reads.

It’s supposed to be cute but it makes Kent want to hurl.  Kent only met that bitty kid once but he’s pretty sure that whatever he has with Jack can in no way compare to what he and Kent had.

They were masters on the ice.  The bloody champions of the no look one shot goal for fucks sake! Everything they were on the ice they were a million times more off of it and each side fed into the other making them real contenders.  Kent and Jack were supposed to go in the draft together.  They were supposed to graduate to pro from their farm teams and get the A’s and then captaincy.  Kent was supposed to spend his days doing the two things he enjoyed most.  Playing hockey and loving Jack.

Sure Kent still gets to play hockey but he has to watch someone else love Jack and Jack love someone else.

Meanwhile Kent sits here on his ass too afraid to take a chance on someone else because lord knows Jack got all the luck.  He gets lucky enough to find a boyfriend at Samwell, a boyfriend who obviously understood the dangers of Jack coming out in the world.  Kent wouldn’t be so lucky.  Kent would probably tether his line to someone who would sell him down the river, out in him in the tabloids or blackmail him for their silence.  Or worse resent him for pulling them back into the closet with him.

Kent pitches the wine bottle into the garden and hears it smash somewhere down the patio.  He regrets it immediately.

Gluttonous for punishment Kent opens up Eric’s twitter.

@omgcheckplease start as you mean to go on.

Attached is a picture of a series of pies all laid out neatly and photogenically along a gleaming kitchen counter.  A kitchen counter Jack’s pay check paid for no doubt.

The next few tweets are a transcript of conversations they’ve been having with their friends and family during the day.  The next few are a saccharine sweet shout out to all the ‘fans’ who have supported them this year since the Falconers cup win and Jack and Eric’s big gay reveal.

Eric doesn’t type big gay reveal, Kent just adds that in because he’s angry and petty and self-destruction has no bite unless he’s adding in his own internalised (and really it has to be internalised because only six people in Kent’s life know he’s gay) homophobia.

The next tweet comes with a picture of a beer pong table set up.

@omgcheckplease @clarissaexplainsitall showin’ bros how it’s done again!

@omgcheckplease reigning 2017 champion @clarissaexplainsitall

Attached is a photo reminiscent of the photo taken last time except there’s only one guy beneath her foot and it’s Jack.  His face is all scrunched up and peculiar looking and Kent does a double take when he realises that it’s because he’s laughing so hard.

He sways on the wall and closes his phone.

He doesn’t know who the fuck that guy in the photo is.

Falling off the wall Kent starts the slow stumble back to the house and when he steps through the patio doors the warm air dries his lips and shrinks his bladder threateningly.

He hunts for the bathroom but the downstairs one is occupied and so he crawls, on his hands and knees, up the stairs too drunk to just hold onto the railing.  When he summits them he spots two girls leaning against the landing wall each staring at their phones.  Both are leggy and blonde and completely Hudson’s type

“They are goals.” The tallest leggiest one gushes.  Her gold dress makes her glow.

“Such goals.” Her less leggier but no less blonder friend agrees.

“I know it’s, like, not pc to say but I totally think them making out on centre ice was hot.”

“Oh my god hella hot.”

If you think that’s hot you should have seen him sucking cock Kent thinks to himself and because he finds himself so hilarious he snorts out loud.  The girls whirl around eyes saucer wide and full of guilt.

“Sssorry ladies,” he slurs passing them, “Please go back to…whatever the fuck you were doin’.” He sends an approximation of a grin over his shoulder before shutting the bathroom door behind him.

He throws the lid up, pulls his pants down and relieves himself.  Outside in the hall he hears the girls say,

“Kent’s hot.”

“Brett says he’s a fucking mess and a coke addict.”

Hudson invited them then.

“Do you think those rumours about him and Jack were true? You know the-“ she pauses and Kent wonders if she’s miming sniffing coke or a handjob.

“Regardless I’d still fuck him.”

After a beat the other girl says, “Yeah me too.”

December 31st 2016 – 11:48pm

“Kent? Kent? Open the door.  I know you’re in there.” The handle twists but Kent made sure to lock it so all it does is rattle against the frame.  “Fucks sake.  You better not be passed out in your own puke.”

Kent grunts.  Not his style.

There’s a muffled “Thank god.” Outside the door followed by a click of the lock and finally the door opening.  Swoops appears with a glass bottle in his hand and the first thing Kent slurs is,

“That better be vodka.”

“Ha ha.” Jeff says humourlessly.  “No.  You’ve had enough fucking liquor you can drink this.” He hands him the bottle and a slice of bread, “And eat this.  Why are you in my bath tub?”

Kent ignores the water but does take the bread.  Crumbs fall onto his chest.  “It looked comfortable.”

Jeff heaves a weary sigh, “And is it?”

Kent shakes his head and more crumbs tumble down.  It’s very uncomfortable but Kent was sad anyway and so he decided what was a little more discomfort in the grand scheme of things? “I should have come.” Jeff gives him a look.  “I’m ruining the…the…good times.”

“Hudson’s hitting on Maya.  You’re missing a hell of a crash and burn but other than that,” Jeff pushes the water at him again, “you’re not preventing anything.”

Kent doesn’t believe him for a second.  He’s always fucking up and getting too drunk and then too mopey and Swoops, no Jeff, he’s Jeff when it’s just them together, is always there to look after him.  To drag him from one drink too many, helping to smooth over fights that Kent swears to god he didn’t start.  Jeff’s like his guardian angel…or his carer.

“You shouldn’t have to look after me.”

Unexpectedly Jeff snaps, “Then stop needing it.” Taken aback Kent blinks up at him.  “Is this about Zimmermann?”

Kent sinks down in the tub, “No.” he mumbles into his chest.

“And last year wasn’t about him either?”

“No.”

“You’re the worlds worst liar I swear to fucking god.” Jeff mutters, “I don’t know how nobody has figured you out.”

“I’m Captain,” Kent pouts petulant, “you’re not supposed to give your captain shit.”

Jeff gives him a dry look, “Pretty sure the captains not supposed to get wasted and curl up to die in my bath tub, and yet.”

Kent flips him off.

“Real captainly.”

Kent swigs water and hopes Jeff is affected by the defiance in the violent gulping.

“It could be you, you know.” Jeff says softly after a minute.  “You could come out.”

Kent almost spits his water out.  “I’m not like Jack.” He says when he’s done.

“You’re not?” Jeff looks genuinely puzzled.

Kent might find it fond if he knew how to process that expression and all it really meant.  “I’m not…” he combs his soupy brain for the word, “beloved.”

“Beloved?” Jeff blinks at him in disbelief.

“Beloved.” Kent scowls at him.  It’s less effective every time he does it.

“How in the fuck is Zimmermann beloved? You think just cos his dad was a hockey star and his boyfriend started a black market jam trade that that makes him beloved?” Jeff snorts as if to say give me strength “It’s his boyfriend doing the baking not him.  Jack Zimmermann is no more or less ‘beloved’ than you.”

“I can’t come out.”

“Can’t or don’t want to?” Jeff replies swiftly.

Kent bristles, “Don’t want to.” Kent snaps.

At length Jeff decides, “I think that’s bullshit.”

“Don’t fucking assume you know anything about what I want.” Kent snaps viciously…or vicious for a guy drunk in a bath tub with crumbs all over his shirt.

“God forbid I do that Kent huh? God forbid I try to help you off this self-destructive fucking rollercoaster you are determined to be strapped into.”

“I never asked you to help me!”

“That’s what friends do!”

“I don’t need you as my friend!” he shouts.

“Of course you fucking do!” Jeff shouts back.  “Without me you’d be dead, or worse, slandered in all the papers for all the fucking bathroom blowjobs.”

Kent scoffs bitterly, “I never took you for a homophobe.”

Jeff sneers at him, “I’m not a fucking homophobe you asshole I’m trying to look out for you.  You don’t want to be out then stop fucking around with randoms who would sell you down the river if they ever found out who you are.  You don’t want the wider world knowing things about you you’d rather keep secret then maybe you should stop taking strangers into back rooms and working your way through Nevada one grindr user at a time and focus on getting over Jack fucking Zimmermann.”

By the time he’s done Jeff’s chest is heaving and the air’s turned thick and heavy with all the words he’s just said.  Kent can’t say anything for the giant lump in his throat and it takes him several tries before he feels like he can swallow it enough to make sound around it.  “Why couldn’t it be me?”

Jeff sinks down, turns and leans his back against the tub.  “You and Jack?”

“We used to date.” Kent whispers like he’s just admitted something huge.  Like Jeff doesn’t already know that the tear in Kent’s heart is shaped like Zimmermann’s knife.  “He thinks I forgot him and then when I went to talk to him at Samwell he just-“ Kent takes a shuddering breath, “he didn’t want to know.  He told me to get out.”

Jeff takes a breath, “That was a long time ago.”

“He gets everything.” Kent croaks miserably.  “The legendary parents, the money and the privilege.  He got the fresh start and every hockey team vying to be his first pick even after he left them hanging.  Then he gets the A and the perfect fucking boyfriend and now,” Kent’s head lolls against the tub, “now he gets a team who supports who he really is.”

Kent makes Jeff wait for the kicker.

“And he did it all without me.”

And there it is.

“We’d be there for you.”

Kent snorts, it’s a nice thought but it’s hardly true.  “You think Hudson and Macksey are gonna be there for me? You think the GM’s are gonna be there for me? You know what they’ll fucking say.  They’ll watch the ticket sales go down and the fights on the ice get worse and they’ll think maybe it’s best if I get scratched for a few games.  Then it’s me handing over my C and sending me down to ‘train’ kids at the farm and then come trade day,” he makes a whistle bomb sound, “they’ll sell me to the only bidder.”

“They can’t kick you off the team for being gay Kent.”

“They can make it hard to stay on it.” He snaps, “God Jeff I love you but you’re fucking naïve.”

Jeff makes an angry impatient noise in the back of his throat, “You think you’re the only one who has a secret on this team? Do you think you’re the only player on this roster who has things they think they need to hide for fear of being benched or sent down to the farm? Jesus Christ Kent you’re the fucking captain.  You could help these peoples!”

“I don’t owe anybody anything.”

“Then you’re just like Zimmermann, or worse because he just did that.”

“For himself.” Kent refuses to believe that Jack did that for anybody but himself.  He won’t have thought about the wider world.  Jack’s only ever crippled under the public pressure, he’s never risen to meet it or change it.

Jeff makes that sound again, “For himself or not he’s not opened a door that the leagues been trying to hold closed for decades.  Whether he continues with this or not it’s out there now and pretty soon other players are going to gently nudge their way out and declare themselves too.  You could be one of them.”

Kent’s silence is considering.  “But I’d be alone.” He says quietly.

“You wouldn’t be alone.”

“You think I could find someone to kiss live on air after a game?”

Jeff rolls his eyes, “Now you’re just being facetious.  I’m saying that if you came out you’d have people in your corner.  Your family for one and me and Jasmine and loads of other guys on the team.”

Kent makes a sound, “You sure of that?”

“I am.  If this bullshit,” he waves over his shoulder to Kent wasted in the bath, “is about more than your heartbreak with Zimmermann just know that you don’t have to be afraid of walking out there alone if you want to be honest with the world about this part of you.  But if this is only about Jack then I have some friendly advice for you.”

Jeff pauses so Kent has to ask ,”And that is?”

“Get some therapy and get over him.”

“I thought the best way to get over someone was to get under someone else.”

Jeff thinks he hears a smile in Kent’s voice.  He answers with his own, “The rate you’re going through them don’t you think if that were true it would have happened by now?”

“You can’t slut shame me.” He grumbles sinking down into the tub.  His sneakers squeak on the porcelain.

Finally Jeff turns hooking his muscled forearms over the lip of the tub and staring down into Kent’s tear streaked face.  Gently he wipes one away from his cheek.  “Kent.  I love you okay? I can’t watch you do this anymore.  You’re too fucking talented and amazing to be sitting in my tub thirty seconds from midnight drunk crying over a boy who doesn’t love you.”

Kent sucks in a breath.

“Yes you idiot I love you.” Jeff rests his cheek on the tub and regards Kent with a fond smile.  “And so does Jasmine.”

“It’s not exactly the kind of love that has us making out on centre ice is it?”

Jeff shrugs, “You never know”

Kent’s belly does something clenchy that he’ll only start to understand when he’s hungover, “but if you want it to be you’ll have to start picking up the tab at meals.  You can even start at brunch tomorrow.”

Kent burps.  “Oh God.” He scrambles to get up.

Jeff fights to lean back before Kent’s flailing limbs can smack him in the face.  “Jesus okay? We can ease into it you can get the coffees.”

“Nope!” Kent falls half out of the bath in his haste to get away.

“Christ Kent you’ll never get that-“

Kent pushes violently past him and falls face first into the toilet.  Then vomits.

“-kiss now.”

“Urgh.” Kent gasps into the bowl.

Jeff leans over and presses his hand to the space between Kent’s shoulder blades and slowly rubs up and down in what he hopes is a soothing manner.  Kent opens his mouth to thank him then vomits again.

“Happy New Year Kent.”

Kent flips him off.

“No really.  It’s midnight.” He slides his phone under Kent’s face.  “See?”

On the screen 00:00 flashes up.  “Fuck.” He sighs.  “Happy New year man.”

Jeff’s hand returns a steady slow comforting stroke along his spine.  “Happy New Year bro.”

Staring at the rancid water at the bottom of the toilet bowl Kent doesn’t know how happy the new years going to be but when he wakes in the morning to find two Advil’s and a water with a note propped against it that reads;

Hi sweetheart.  Breakfast’s on you yeah?

He begins to reconsider.

[dndfuckhouse]

CuriousCat Archive

A series of Q&A’s that were sent onto the group curiouscat, now imported here for readability and easy editing :y

Q -  would psalm suck toes? y/n

Psalm: When would I ev-? Actually, never mind. The answer is no, of course not.

Q -  Does Amos only eat cheese...

Keva: he takes when he can get

Q -  plum you ever smoke weed before just curious

Plum: NO NEVER SMOKED BEFORE

Q - Han what is your hair care routine

Han: well its less mine and more a friend of mine's... they just gave me some gooey stuff that smells real nice and told me to use it once a week!! i dont know what to do about the growing black roots tho..... :(

Q - mister finn have u ever kissed before...

Finn: T-thats a very personal question! How rude... I've done it once, of course.

Q -  han, would you drink with finn again? are you two getting closer?

Han: ...its easier to get close the more drunk we get so ye....

Q -  Han, whats your favourite liquor? -Finn

Han: THE FASTER IT GETS ME DRUNK THE BETTER !!!!!!

Q - Psalm, do you believe in fate?

Psalm: Fate is a very romantic notion, and in the past I probably would've said no. Right now I have no choice but to believe in it, I think.

Q -  on a scale of 1 to 10 han how much did you enjoy your fight with psalm (the one from the rp channel)

Han: ONE!!!!!! IM GLAD HE ACCEPTED BUT I DIDNT FUCKING WIN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! but ill win next time watch out psalm this tiger is OUT FOR BLOOD Psalm: :psalmface:

Q -  on a scale of one to ten how much did PSALM enjoy his fight with han !

Psalm: It was enjoyable because I won, although I was hoping it'd last a bit longer. 7. :psalmface:

Q -  WHATS FINNS FAVOURITE LIQUOR!!!!!!

Finn: Classy red wine!

Q -  rokka what do you think about your street performance career? do u have any ambitions?!

Rokka: IT’S FUN! I enjoy watching people's amazed faces especially the children. Ambitions...? Maybe? *rokka falls into thinking man pose for a very long time*

Q -  Rokka, how do you keep your fur so soft and pretty? -Finn

Rokka: ⭐STEPS TO ROKKA'S FUR CARE !!!!!! ⭐  1) bathe in lakes! or rivers! (I personally like lakes hehe) 2) SHAKE IT DRY! shakeshakeshake (be careful of dizziness!!) 3) lick palms and smooth down ur fur. (this is the secret) 4) DONE! (congrats u have nice fur!!!!!!!)

Q - What was your first kiss like finn?

Finn: Thats a little secret between me and god.

Q - :):(

Rokka: who are you and what does this mean Psalm: It's a secret code. Why not try deciphering it?

Q - finn whats your favourite blood type? pls and thx

Finn: I'm usually not open about this, but I only consume animal blood. I dont have a favourite. Beef based strikes me as the least worst so far.

Q -  psalm does it hurt to cough up smoke? how bothered are you by it?

Psalm: I wouldn't say it hurts, but it feels about as pleasant as you'd imagine coughing up smoke would feel, which is to say, not pleasant at all. It mostly just makes it hard to breath, but considering the reason it happens I'm not sure I'm allowed to complain. I'd rather not take my chances.

It does bother me though.

Q -  keva, do you prefer being alone or with friends?

Keva: friends

Q - keva, whats your favourite food?

Keva: roasted quail

Q -  Does plum always text in all caps? Do they do that to show all their suppressed anger

Plum: does it seem suppressed.... DOES IT SEEM SUPPRESSE

Q -  plum, why did you decide to go to the ball as a guest with vinny? did you think it was better cover than being a guard?

Plum: just didnt think id be much use as a bodyguard also i wanted to dress up...

Q - to everyone: would you fuck on the first date ? 🤔

Han: i only fuck on the first date Psalm: No. Finn: What is it with these rude questions? Rokka: UHHHHHHH---? WH=HAHA WHAT? Keva: no Plum: what the fuck Cimmorro: i’ve never, but i don’t see why not if we liked each other enough. i’ve to say i’m difficult to impress on the first day gyahaha    

Q -  actually to everyone, whats your favourite food?

Psalm: There's a dish back in my hometown that we'd eat on holidays called “Smelt and Salt". Most travellers tend to find it salty to the point of being inedible, but I think its delicious. Finn: The servants at our residence are quite skilled, I enjoyed almost everything they make. When I was alive, I favored simple chicken breast with baked vegetables though. Rokka: Nothing can go wrong with a big ol' pot of beef and potato stew! I love soups Han: we dont get a lot of fruit way south so i was so surprised when i saw lots of it at shorewater!!!!! ITS SO SWEET AND DELICIOUS!!!!!!!!!! Plum: theres this stew that my whole family comes together to make for special occasions and we put a lot of roots and flowers and vegetables in it its pretty good. havent had it in a while

Q -  *like a kpop interviewer* to everyone: so what would your ideal partner be like? >:3c

Han: if they can dish out as much as they can take Psalm: Someone who is fun to be around. Loyalty is nice too. Finn: Someone who can handle me and is genuinely interested in all facets of my life. Rokka: Someone who can enjoy the world with me especially nature. Accept me! P.S. Psalm, I am fun and loyal........ :pleading: Plum: uhhh... someone kind i guess Keva: (visibly uncomfortable and unwilling to answer) Cimmorro: honest and devoted. someone who is easygoing would be a nice addition.

Q -  WHY DO YOU FUCKERS NEVER PUT DOWN THE FUCKING TOILET SEAT IN THIS HOUSE!! SOME OF US ARE SMALL IN SIZE AND KEEP FUCKING FALLING IN

Psalm: Not saying I'm the culprit, but you honestly could just check first. Rokka: I always try to remember to put it down! Although, I may or may not have forgotten once......................or 10 times.................................. Keva: you're tall enough to look before you sit

Q -  Rokka, don't forget you owe me a drink the next time we find a tavern. - Psalm

Rokka: you got it, boss! but........can we have round 2.........please...........please.............................please.............please............................plea--[commercials cues]

Q -  birthdays? birthdays?

Psalm: My birthday is on the 8th of Solstitium. Plum: 32nd of soltrice  Keva: (briefly crinkles nose and doesn't answer) Han: i dont know! no one in my tribe kept track of things like that. judging by stories i think it during elfons? Rokka: hibernon, solvo 74! Cimmorro: 55th of umbrois. i’m expecting presents now that you all know!

Q - favourite season

Psalm: Aestas. It's a bit silly, but my birthday falls around this time so I've always been rather fond of it. Keva: elfons Plum: elfons Rokka: Elfons! where the grass is greenies Han: elfons... i like it when it goes from cold to warmer temperatures :) Cimmorro: rahtumna.

Q -  before making a call (over sending stone or message or whatever) do you ever rehearse what you're going to say? why?

Psalm: Depending on the circumstances, yes. Rokka: No need to think when speaking. Cimmorro: depends if there are specific people i’m contacting. i generally don’t really care though.

Q -  if you could be anything job-wise and nothing could hold you back, what would you want to be?

Psalm: I've never really given that much thought. I don't really make any grand plans for myself, as they tend to go awry fairly often. I think I'd enjoy writing plays...perhaps. Keva: don't know, never thought about it Rokka: I've also never thought about this <:9 Han: ah... i would like to travel again... Cimmorro: i like the way things are right now. [mumbling] if anything, i’m more worried about losing it...      

Q -  what would be a "perfect" day for you?

Psalm: I enjoy plays quite a bit, so if I could spend an entire day watching a good series of performances I'd be quite happy. Some good company wouldn't hurt either. (As long as they don't talk.) Keva, after thinking for so long it seems like she's not going to answer: being home with nothing important to do Plum: I JUST WANT TO GO HOME Rokka: running through a grassy land and bask in the sun (๑￫ܫ￩)

Q -  when did you last sing to yourself? to someone else?

Psalm: My singing voice is rather unpleasant, so I don't do it often. Keva: a month ago? i guess? who would even keep track Rokka: I like to sing every time I bathe! rubba dub dub rubba doot doot rubba dee dee its nothing but a squeaky clean me!!!!!!!!!! Han: (flushes) it was a while back Cimmorro: i was part of the choir in my childhood. i was pretty okay! can’t say the same for the present though ahahaha

Q - what was the last dream you remember?

Psalm: I'd rather not say. Keva: (doesn't answer) Rokka: *thinking face*

Q -  toilet paper over or under?

Psalm: Over? I'm not an animal. Plum: what.... the fuck is this asking Rokka: Is there a difference...?

Q -  if you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be?

Plum: ...... [plum is starting to look uncomfortable] Keva: (laughs, doesn't answer) Psalm: I'm perfectly fine with how I was raised. Han: (laughs) oh, throw the whole thing out Rokka: nice answers everyone. NEXT QUESTION! :D Cimmorro: wait, hmm… not so much on the way of raising but more on a certain part of the situation, i suppose?  

Q -  what is your most terrible memory?

Psalm: *Looks somewhat distressed.* Plum: THIS IS MAKING ME ANGRY. IM NOT ANSWERING ANYMORE OF THESE TONIGHT. Rokka: please stop asking these questions you're making my friends upset. This is upsetting.

Q - is there something you've dreamed about doing for a long time? why haven't you done it?

Psalm: I wouldn't say for a long time, but I haven't done it because I can't. Simple as that. Keva: can't anymore Rokka: Life hands you lemons so you gotta eat them. *nods* （￣ー￣） Han: i wanted to learn singing. why... well. life doesn't work sometimes. Cimmorro: when i was a child, i dreamed of being at the top of the clergy’s hierarchy. then that immediately got crushed when i was told that only women were allowed to lead the church bahahaha! that was back then. right now i’m satisfied with my position and still have much to learn. but if the opportunity arises and i meet the requirements, i wouldn’t say no to seating as the high mother.     

Q - if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know? 

Psalm: I'm torn between knowing the truth about one thing from the past, and a very selfish glimpse into the future. Keva: (doesn't answer, but seems to think about the question) Rokka: *vibrates* Han: there are so many things i want answers for, i dont think i could choose. Cimmorro: [visibly cringing as several things come to mind]     

Q - of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? why? 

Psalm: Lots of morbid questions here. I'll pass on this one. Keva: orin Rokka: please i'm begging you..............please stop with these questions...... Cimmorro: … [quitely glances at how the others respond instead of answering]  

Q -  how close and warm is your family? do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people's?

Han: (laughter that becomes progressively louder in volume) Psalm: I quite enjoyed my childhood, but given the reactions of the others it seems I might be the only one fortunate enough to be able to say that... Keva: i liked a part of it Plum: dont know what the fuck psalm is talking about. ive had the happiest childhood a halfling could have thank you i wish i could be back home right now, actually Rokka: it had its up and downs. i mean, who doesn't!! Cimmorro: [laughs] i think mine is seen as particularly ���strange” by most people, but i personally have enjoyed it regardless.

Q -  how do you feel about your relationship to your primary caregiver growing up? 

Psalm: At the moment, I'd say its rather complicated on my part. I'm ashamed to say why. Keva: i don't Han: *looks visibly sick for a second* ... poorly :) Plum: as in my mom and pop? i love those two Rokka: Tough love? Finn: Cold. Cimmorro: [beaming] grateful! i love em! would do anything to treat them at least even half as much as they’ve treated me.

Q - what roles do love and affection play in your life?

Psalm: I just LOVE to be AFFECTIONATE with people, so I'd say quite a large one :psalmface:. Rokka: i got to befriend han! and finn! Also, psalm it's not good to lie to the people. Finn: R-rokka I'm touched... Right now, love and affection couldn't be further removed from my life but hopefully one day, they'll play a bigger role for me. Han: (shrugs) i like having sex Cimmorro: i take pride in making sure that people who are important to me know that they are. it’s also the way they have treated me.

Q - for what in life do you feel most grateful for? 

Psalm: ...Well I made it to Shorewater somehow. Rokka: meeting Han! Han: *was about to say something different but is so touched by rokka* dude......really? q_q me too dude.... Finn: My uncle. But recently I've made some good friends, I feel... Cimmorro: the goddess’ guidance.

Q -  what is the greatest accomplishment of your life? 

Psalm: I- . Hm. For now, let's say it was beating Rokka at stone, parchment, shears. Keva: i'm here Rokka: PSALM PLEASE ROUND 2 Finn: So far I have nothing to my name, but that might change soon. I pray it will.

Q -  if you were to die this evening with opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? why haven't you told them yet? 

Psalm: Where I hid my buried treasure. Han: i wont die. Psalm: I like that answer. Rokka: Why are you like this, anon? Finn: I'd want to talk to Orin one last time. 

Q - share an embarrassing moment from your life

Psalm: I fumbled a joke I was trying to make with Finn the other day. I won't go any further into the past than that, thanks. Finn: Ah, so it was a joke? Please don't worry about it Psalm. Rokka: nearly burning my friends alive because I sneezed. :( 

Q - what's your favourite weapon and why

Psalm: For reasons I won't disclose let's just say I'm not very fond of weapons, my current one in particular. :psalmface: Spells are more useful. Keva: daggers, easy to carry around and hide Rokka: I guess my scimitars? They can cut plants and meat well so i can (try to) cook! Finn: I love swords!! All swords! (he sparkles with excitement) Han: i like being close and personal with someone but also enjoy the quiet rush of hitting a target from a bow Cimmorro: i use a dagger but if i had a spear or an axe that would be kinda awesome actually.     

Q - questions to fall in love here we go! 1) if you could invite anyone in the world to dinner, who would it be?

Psalm: ...I have a friend I haven't seen in a while, so I suppose I'd invite him. Keva: do they have to be alive Psalm: I was wondering the same thing. Plum: i would want to eat dinner with my whole village but if its only one person then my sister. dont really like going to dinner one on on if i can help it but maybe thats something halflings dont like because theyre not antisocial bastards Rokka: Do I HAVE to pick one? :( Finn: ... Rokka! I'd love to dine with everyone though. Han: oh, maybe aster? or ferrie chris? or uhh... (Han starts to look bashful and stops answering) Cimmorro: willow.     

Q - if you all were on a boat (lmao) and it was sinking and you could only save one person from the party who would it be

Plum: rokka or finn but i wouldnt be on a fucking boat if i could help it Psalm: Plum, as they are arguably the only one I could carry. Oh, and Finn I suppose. Plum: WOW THANK YOU THOUGH YOUD PROBABLY SINK LIKE  A STONE Keva: finn Finn: T-thank you all... (blushes and gets too distracted to answer) Rokka: This question is stressing me out. I'm stressed. This is stressful. Han: myself? is this trick question Cimmorro: myself so i can do this: [casts water walk] don’t worry bros i got this

Q - complete this sentence. "i wish i had someone with whom i could share..."

Psalm: I have nothing to share. Rokka: ...this drink with! (psalm, round 2 please) Finn: my fate. Han: my past, without fear

Q - what, if anything, is too serious to be joked about?

Psalm: I'd say death, but ha. Rokka: what roomie said Finn: I don't like jokes about my family and especially my uncle. Cimmorro: Wee Jas. 

Q - when did you last cry in front of another person? by yourself?

Psalm: I haven't cried since I was a kid. Rokka: can we have more fun questions please :( Finn: I rarely ever cry. But last time I did, I was comforted by someone precious. Han: oh that was... (han becomes embarrassed) it is stupid Cimmorro: [wearily looks over where ezra is currently sitting across the room]

Q - do you have a secret hunch about how you're going to die

Plum: i wouldnt say secret but yes Psalm: Ugh. Keva: had a few, anything goes now i guess Rokka: why would you ask this? I don't like this question. :( Finn: Not just a hunch. Han: i won't die!!! what's with these questions Cimmorro: nothing in particular. i just hope that it will be by the goddess’ fates.  

Q - fmk vinny cole ezra

Psalm: (What kind of agenda is this?) F - Vinny, M - Cole, K - Ezra. Keva: fuck ezra marry cole kill vinny Psalm: Ah Keva, finishing your doppelganger's job for her I see. That's a bit harsh. Keva: (lifts her hands in a halfhearted shrug) Rokka: Friend: cole, Meet: Vinny, K....klean for ezra......................... (in the periphery of the shot keva stares into the camera for the entirety of rokka's response) Han: fuck ezra marry cole kill vinny Finn: Who are these people? What is "fmk"? Cimmorro: f-vinny, m-cole, k-ezra

Q - Everyone, where would you like to visit someday?

Psalm: I'm not really one for traveling but since we seem to be headed there already, Vargonia sounds interesting. There's probably a lot to do there. Rokka: I like open land so anywhere with one? Finn: Sharrif!! If I wasn't dutybound at home I'd love to move there. Keva: never thought about it Han: oh oh oh! some guy passed the inn and said there are mountains that reach into another PLANE in sonnate!!! i wanna go there!!!!!! Cimmorro: i’d like to see the arcane well myself heehee     

Q - what's your earliest memory? is this too spoilery idk i'm shooting my shot

Psalm: I'm pretty sure it was when my mother dropped me into the ocean by accident. Why I have no fear of swimming because of this has yet to reveal itself to me. Plum: i remember........ bumping into the kitchen table when i was younger and something might've been a rolling pin hitting me on the head and then fucking crying obviously and my parents swinging me around Rokka: I remember seeing a little bug flying around and chasing it all around so that I could tell them I thought they looked cute.....I was too small to reach the little bug on the tree though haha Keva: i don't remember her name Finn: Playing with my cousins, surrounded by our family. Han: being held by big, heavy hands. close to the chest. Cimmorro: falling off a cliff lol

Q -  i had assumed psalms arcane power was new to him but is it actually?

Psalm: An interesting assumption. I'd love to know why you think so.

Q - PSALM ROUND 2 PLEASE - rokka

Psalm: I'll think about it.

Q - how do you sleep the best?

Rokka: laying sprawled on my back is the best! Sometimes fetal. Finn: I actually... do enjoy sleeping in my coffin. So in confined spaces I suppose. Sharing a bed with Rokka was very comfortable too. (Rokka self-fives himself in the bg) Psalm: Having horns makes sleeping on my back a bit of an issue, but they sit just on top of my head enough for me to sleep reasonably well on my side. Cimmorro: i don’t remember anymore… can’t say i’ve slept very well the last few years

Q - what was your mode of travel to shorewater?

Rokka: mode..? Oh, hard mode! Finn: Hard mode? Keva: (looks at the camera) Psalm: Boat. Han: foot, the odd cart here and there. Cimmorro: i stayed on land as much as possible through various modes.     

Q - around what time do you prefer to eat dinner?

Rokka: any time is good in my book! Keva: late enough to not be hungry before i sleep Finn: .................. Psalm: Early evening? I've never given it much thought.

Q - if you knew in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you're living? why?

Psalm: My life right now is not something that is within my ability to change. Rokka: Same as roomie here...I don't think I want to be falsely accused of murder... Cimmorro: … no. i’ll just have to keep trying until such time comes.

Q - what’s your typical bed time? any routines?

Rokka: Never too late! I like to do some quick stretches after a long day for a good nights rest! Most of the time I just plop down lol Finn: I like to stay up past sunrise actually. Psalm: No. I usually go right to sleep. Preferably as early as possible since I don't like being tired. Cimmorro: i try to keep a strict and healthy routine but [sigh]

Q - what's something you might like for (insert gift-giving custom for holiday equivalent here)?

Finn: Jewellery and swords. Psalm: A good book would be nice. I also like masks. Rokka: I'll like anything as long as it came from their heart! Just the idea of them thinking about me warms me up. Cimmorro: same as rokka.  

Q - how do you stay fit?

Rokka: 250 Push-ups, 250 Yard Handwalk, Jump Rope- 2000 Times, 250 Straight Punches to Heavy Bag, 250 Roundhouse Kicks to Heavy Bag, annnnnd 500 Squats. Finn: Thats quite impressive Rokka: ... (Rokka salutes) Psalm: I wouldn't say I'm the most physically fit man out there. (8 STR) Cimmorro: morning walks, maybe even jogs, if i’ve got the time to spare… which is almost never. does carrying stacks of books count?  

Q -  to everyone: do you like anime

Rokka: what's anime? :0 Psalm: ...Animals? They're alright. I like small ones, like puppies, kittens, chicks etc. Finn: If you've seen Promare, please DM me.

Q -  do you prefer meat or veggies

Rokka: meat......but veggies are good too.......can I pick both? Psalm: Meat. Finn: Meat as well. Han: meeeeeat Cimmorro: i find it difficult to enjoy a meal without having both.

Q - what is your most treasured memory

Psalm: :psalmface: Rokka: :) Finn: ^___^ Han: (Han thinks briefly and then blushes, embarrassed)

Q - how do you feel about physical touch? yea? nay?

Finn: I dont experience much of it but I enjoy it when I do. Keva: depends Psalm: I prefer to keep to myself. Rokka: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! *hugs Psalm* Psalm: *Sighs* Han: (shrugs) everyone was always touching me, so am used to it. Cimmorro: big no! unless we’re close, don’t touch me.

Q - what does friendship mean to you?

Psalm: God is that you? Rokka: Everything! Psalm, is God your friend? Psalm: *suddenly regretting his answer*

Q - coffee or tea?

Rokka: TEA! Psalm: I'm not particularly fond of either, but if I had to pick, tea. Finn: Tea! What kind do you favor Psalm? Psalm: Chamomile or mint, depending on what's available. And yourself? Finn: Oh, I quite like that one too. My favourite is Rose Petal Blend though, perhaps we could share a cup- *remembers vampirism* Ah- perhaps I could have... a cup of blood if it doesnt disgust you. Psalm: That wouldn't disgust me at all. Just pick a day. Finn: *crying cat* Keva: never had coffee Cimmorro: coffee. though one of my parents often share their special tea brew with me in the afternoons or long nights of work. it’s pretty much the only kind of tea i like… i miss it. 

Q - what's a favourite feature of yourself? can be external or internal, or both

Finn: I took good care of my hair before I became undead. So my hair would've been it.  Psalm: Regarding physical traits...my mother and I have identical eyes and horns. Mum found it cute, so I guess I grew up being somewhat fond as well... Interal, I don't self reflect that often. I'll leave that unanswered. Rokka: I like my blue fur! and eyes!  Keva: (shrugs) don't think about that sorta thing Han: (Han becomes increasingly despondent the more she thinks) none is good enough. i need to be better. Cimmorro: my cleric magic!!!!!!!!! \\\\o//// i also like my hair and tail a lot!

Q - what’s something you used to be afraid of as a kid?

Finn: My aunt was quite scary haha. Psalm: When my mother got mad at me... Rokka: Loud noises Keva: throwing up Cimmorro: oh i used to see a shadow of a demon in my quarters quite often for a few years. freaked me out a lot of times but i believe lady wee jas protected me since that demon never did come to harm me at all. :D   

Q - do you know the muffin man?

Rokka: The muffin man..? Finn: The muffin man... I would like to meet him. Keva: what

Q - what’s your preferred weather

Rokka: Sunny! but with a nice breeze! (≧▽≦) Finn: I dislike rain, but fog can be nice to watch. Since I only operate at night now clear weather is preferred. Psalm: I like sunny weather, but rainy days are nice when I don't have to be outside. Keva: warm and clear Cimmorro: same as psalm.

Q - are you an early riser or late sleeper?

Rokka: EARLY WOLF CATCHES THE DEER Psalm: Depends on when I need to get up. Keva: depends Cimmorro: both…. 🤦‍♂️   

Q - what are your feelings on pda

Rokka: What's "peh-dah"? Psalm: I have no problem with it, although I dislike drawing attention to myself, so then again... Cimmorro: depends, but especially dislike it during work.   

Q - what’s your best “my coworkers are crazy” story?

Rokka: (nervously glances back at everyone) Um...Uh...Haha (forced smile) Keva: (doesn't break eye contact with the camera as she gestures at the rest of the party) Psalm: I was partnered with a friend once for a... well a thing that we had to do, and he somehow managed to gamble away all of his clothing. Cimmorro: all of this right now   

Q - what's your favourite type of bread

Keva: bread Rokka: Any is good! Psalm: Croissants are nice. Cimmorro: any as long as it’s fresh out of the oven.

Q - when was the last time you laughed so hard it was hard to stop? what was so funny?

Psalm: Refer to the "coworker" answer.

Q - guilty pleasures?

Psalm: I like to read poetry. I only feel guilty about it because a friend of mine said it made me seem too brooding, and now I'm a bit self conscious Cimmorro: playing pranks on my coworkers during break

Q - are you still in touch with friends from your childhood?

Keva: some of them Rokka: I wish I could say that Psalm: Not for a couple months now, no. Finn: Yes! My friend Sagessa and I are penpals, so even if we're far apart we can always talk!! Han: (han shakes her head dejectedly) Cimmorro: mhm   

Q - who's someone interesting you met recently

Rokka: Finn!!!!! He can turn into things! so cool Psalm: I would also have say Finn, as I'd never met a vampire before now. Not to say the rest of you aren't interesting enough. Finn: *turns into a bat and hangs himself upside down from Rokka's shoulder* Han: (han looks around warily) (whispers) psalm BUT DONT TELL HIM THAT!!!! what is that guys DEAL Cimmorro: i agree about finn    

Q - what's the best day you've had recently?

Rokka: Hard to say with whats been happening Psalm: "Recently" is a bit of a stretch. Finn: I had a good time at the ball with Orin! Cimmorro: the king consort accepting my offer was cool and exciting. feel like i haven’t had a normal job in years with how long these weeks have been going pffff

Q - do you have siblings

Psalm: It's entirely within the realm of possibility, but none that I'd ever care to meet. Keva: don't know Han: yes Cimmorro: in a way, yes

Q - how important is fashion to you

Finn: If I dont look good whats the point of anything. Psalm: Not very. Keva: it's not Rokka: Somewhat? I just bought my first and only shirt ever!! that's pretty fashionable of myself if you asked me. B) Han: (gets bashful) there are some cute dresses i see around town but... :wiwi: Cimmorro: [gestures at all of himself] :-) 

Q -  do you have any personal belongings that you would feel upset about losing? what are they?

Psalm: No, I've never really had any attachment to material things. I suppose there is this dagger I've picked up recently that has served some use, so maybe that...maybe. Finn: My earrings or my sword. I cherish them. Han: yeah. some weapons i have were made by uuh. a significant person in my life. Cimmorro: my headpiece and holy symbol. other jewelry pieces i have i can replace easily, but not these…

Q -  if you had a completely free day with no responsibilities or obligations, what would you do with your time?

Finn: Honestly? I'd like to sleep and dream about nice things. Rokka: I would love to go sight seeing at places i haven't been to! Han: oh me too Rokka!!!! maybe we can go together someday :) Cimmorro: mmm… quite rare the last few years but i did enjoy my day offs by fishing, spending time with the children and sleeping of course. i’ve no idea what else to do, otherwise...

Q - do you take long or short baths?

Finn: I liked to take long baths back then. Rokka: long! gotta make sure all this fur is fresh and clean! Han: i used to be in and out of the water real fast but i can enjoy a long bath now sometimes... Cimmorro: i like to take long ones whenever i can! but i often find myself having to take short baths or showers in a rush...

Q - favourite piece of literature?

Psalm: I haven't gotten much reading in recently, but I liked the stories my mum would read to me when I was younger. When I remember the names I'll get back to you. Rokka: the ones that has a picture of something and words that tells me what they are! I like those if that counts Keva: my what Finn: I love folklore and fairy tales... I hope this doesn't make me seem childish. Han: lich-reh.... is that one of those book names for a mushroom?? Cimmorro: does the white book count? feel like that’d be too obvious hehe… i like to read anything i find interesting at the time. arcane, scriptures of other churches, etc. not too big of a fan of fictions though.   

Q - ur cute have a nice day ♡

Finn: Rokka someone said youre cute. Rokka: oh..! really? how do you know?!

Q - if you could get away with one crime what would it be

Rokka: the only crime I will commit is this current crime due to being framed!!! Cin: Arson. Psalm: Murder I guess, given our current situation. Cimmorro: ...if i knew i was guilty, i’d turn myself right in.

Q - We Got A Benefit Concert 4 These Male Lesbians In Da Planning Stages How U Gon Contribute

Keva: [geralt "hm"]

Q - where is this fuk house located. I need it for research purposes.

Han: there are several brothels in shorewater, if you want i can give recommendation...

Q - how do you feel about showing skin when it comes to what you wear? are you comfortable with it, or do you prefer not to?

Han: (slaps her bare thigh) you know it baaabyyyyyyy Rokka: i feel more comfortable and less restricted with no shirt.....pants r cool tho! Psalm: Like any average person. Cimmorro: unless it’s incredibly hot out, i 100% avoid exposing any of these scales to any dirts and stains

Q - maybe in a word or two, without giving a lot away, what are you in shorewater for?

Han: i was told to get a fresh start here? whatever that means LOL Keva: repay a debt Rokka: im just s---im just sitting here Psalm: No particular reason. Just ended up here really.

Q - do you ever feel lonely

Finn: ^___^ Rokka: hard to when I'm around these fellas *gestures to everyone* Psalm: No, I don't mind being by myself. Keva: (long silence with no eye contact before answering) sometimes, lately, whatever Cimmorro: fucking homesick is more like it  

Q - what's something that makes you feel nostalgic

Han: ... some of my weapons and tools. Keva: i guess, elfonsent or whatever it's called here....big festivals for public holidays Cimmorro: Jasper.

Q - do you like to cook? what would you say is your specialty?

Rokka: does roasting something on a stick count??? Han: same as rokka... i think i always did more of preparation of ingredients than actual cooking. Keva: i don't cook Cimmorro: yeee people seem to enjoy my stuffed grilled fish the most

Q - do you like it here in shorewater, unfortunate events aside?

Han: yeah!!! its been fun! i was not here very long but i made a couple of friends!! Keva: eh, it's definitely true a lot of things happen here Cimmorro: i'm not particularly interested of this place

Q - how would you feel about getting involved in a train murder mystery that may or may not involve werewolves?

Han: WEREWOLVES???????????? HOW DO I INVOLVE MYSELF Keva: hard pass Cimmorro: [grimacing] i’d rather avoid doing anything that doesn’t involve my duties to my faith, if i had the choice. 

Q - what incredibly common thing have you never done?

Finn: So, I hear that commoners are very skilled in all sorts of handiwork? How exhilarating. One day, I'd like to fix my chair myself when it breaks down. Or shop for ingredients on a market street myself, imagine the wonders! Keva: read Cimmorro: ...a vacation?   

Q - Welcome to Good Burger home of the Good Burger! Can I take your order?

Finn: May I order some Nuggets

Q - do you prefer to be the big spoon or the little spoon?

Psalm: Neither. I don't sleep on my side. Keva: if i had to pick, big Rokka: either one...I'm not picky Finn: I have never been either. Well, perhaps the little spoon after sharing a bed with Rokka? Han: big spoon!!!!! Cimmorro: big

Q - do you like to dance?

Keva: (shrugs) it can be fun with friends Psalm: Yes. Rokka: yeah!! boogie woogie oogie Finn: Very much so! Cimmorro: yeap!!

Q - if you could have any animal or beast as a pet without any harm to you or those around you, what would you have?

Rokka: bunnies are cute hehe Han: i would have a giant dragon or chimera or some thing badass like that Finn: A dragon indeed sounds "badass". But isn't it too big?... Cimmorro: both are huge and sound tedious to upkeep nonetheless. i’m perfectly happy with Jasper.

Q - if you were to change your hairstyle, what would you do?

Han: i wonder what it would be like if i cut all off, but... Keva: cut it short again i guess Psalm: I'd grow it out. Rokka: *looks at his whole body* much to think about Finn: I'd want to cut it short again. But at the moment I'm trying to grow it out. Cimmorro: i once considered growing mine out a bit just to try, but i usually trim my hair during the summer so it never came to be. i feel like it’d be a hassle to do it now and i’ve lost interest.  

Q - Hey! What do you guys think of the death penalty?

Keva: i don't Want to think abt the death penalty Rokka: same here Finn: Sir this is a fuckhouse.

Q - have you all ever heard a voice in your head?

Rokka: the one that sounds like me? yeah Psalm: No. Finn: *blinks Yes in morse code*

Q - boobs or butts?

Psalm: Who would ask this...? *He chuckles and doesn't answer.* Rokka: Do.....Do we really have to answer this? *sweating* Finn: There's only one correct choice. Han: this question is foolish. both are great.

Q - if you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?

Plum: ..................................... Psalm: The ability to go back in time would be useful.  Plum: the ability to go back in time would be useful Rokka: stop making me choose one thing i can't choose. Finn: I want to dual wield blades. Cimmorro: teleportation powers perhaps... 

Q - if you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30 year old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want?

Psalm: What an odd question... I'd rather keep my mind. I'm curious how a 90-year old me would look. Rokka: This is hard Finn: *laughs in vampire* Han: body Cimmorro: body

Q - tell me about the first crush you remember having

Psalm: No. (offscreen there is a screech of a chair. keva is leaving) Rokka: Ummm...... Finn: (Finn "Hm"s) Did anyone else crush on characters from the books they've read? For me it was a swordsman, in any case. Han: (whispers to the asker) whats a crush?? Cimmorro: [tilting head at han and shaking his head] ...yeah, finn. wee jas.

Q - what’s your favourite thing about someone you admire?

Rokka: she's really tall! and strong! I admire her strengths! she's really nice!!! She's the best. Keva: that everything would be okay if they were around. or it felt like that at least Psalm: He was more friendly than me, and I envied how easily he could make friends when we were younger. Finn: He stands his ground against anyone. Han: they are so easy going and kind hearted, even when i am not to them. Cimmorro: just about everything? especially that they seem to never break under pressure and are completely capable of making decisions with swiftness and grace...

Q - would you like to be famous? in what way?

Psalm: Absolutely not. Keva: no Rokka: I don't think I have the skills to go that far. Finn: I don't aspire much fame but some renown as a swordsman seems worthwhile. Cimmorro: gaining a good enough reputation to be an influencer… i believe it would be important for the church, so i wouldn’t refuse it.  

Q - rokka how does it feel to be the funniest person in existence

Rokka: I don't know how it feels because I just found out I am funny...? How?

Q - rokka i have on good authority that cole wants to play rugby with you what’s your response

Rokka: YEAHHHH LETS GOOOOOO maybe then we can become true friends through the bonds of rugby!!!!!

Q - rokka what do you think about shirts

Rokka: They're alright I guess? Don't really see the point of it though

Q - Plum, would you like to shop with me one day? I love your fashion sense. -Finn

Plum:  I WOULD LOVE TO. WHEN THIS SHIT IS OVER THEN ALSO THANK YOU

Q - plum are your teeth crooked or did you lose a tooth

Plum: they're crooked

Q - cole what do you think about vinny as a boss

Cole: ooooh incredible ! The fact that i get to work under a wizard of his skills as an apprentice still bowls me over, I've learned so much and i haven't even been here all that long. I know he doesn't seem to like the Accord much but being part of their group is no joke, he musta' had some cool projects back in the day. He doesn't seem to mind when i break things either, he's a real swell guy like that, nothing like my last boss [nervous laughter]

Q - when is the last time you got a manipedi

Rokka: got a what? Cimmorro: i do my own! as often as needed!

Q - what is it like having a tail

Rokka: Idk? ok? but what's it like NOT having a tail though? :thonk: Psalm: ...Normal. This is the norm for me, so I have no clue how to answer this in a way that would be satisfactory to someone that doesn't have one. Like with any part of the body, I don't really think about it unless I remember it's there. I guess the one thing is that I don't like having holes in my clothes, so everything I wear is low waisted. Finn: I wasn't aware everything you wear is low waisted, much less why. Psalm: I always wear a waist sash, but next time I can go without if you're curious. Cimmorro: i used to trip over my own tail a lot when i was a kid. it was rather long for my size at the time hehe

Q -  you’re right rokka what is it like Not having a tail

Rokka: You Tell Me Keva: they weren't asking you

Q - rokka how do you maintain your fur

Rokka: Check out my youtube channel please like and subscribe! -> [link to fur answer above]

Q - Keva what is the way to your heart? I'm asking for a friend...

Keva: tell your friend to find smth better to do

Q - finn your hair is so shiny what’s your secret

Finn, visibly confused: There is no secret to my haircare. I simply do what everyone else does, no? Personally I use lye soap and rosewater. Perhaps you ought to try a different oil or mixture from your usual.

Q - finn what do you think about your uncle’s growing fanclub? what does he think abt it?

Finn: His "fanclub"? Well, it is true people take a liking to my uncle rather quickly, but I've yet to see him reciprocate any such affections. If this "club" is anything official I would like to be its president though, to guide others of course. I may find someone who could get along with him, he really ought to settle down one of these days!

Q - finn can you tell us a little bit about your cousins?

Finn: Hmm... from the beginning they have been more outgoing than me, I must admit I am a bit envious of that. But the Vengaboys have brought out a lot in me already, I think.

Q - hey finn how tall are your heels

Finn: 3 inches. But I have taller ones for balls and the like.

Q - orin what would it take for you to share an embarrassing story about keva

Orin: hmmmm id probably wait until she left the room first....

Q - vinny how bad is your eyesight without glasses

Vinny: bad enough that id fall down the stairs in my own store if i lost em’ [anime sweatdrop] its why they have that handy string attached to them now, and well also because the cats like to bat at my face sometimes...

Q - ezra and cole have you ever had to help vinny find his glasses. let me clarify i know he has that thing where his glasses can hang from his neck but have you ever had to help vinny find his glasses bc he lost them anyways

Ezra: never, but he didn't always have the string, he told me he slapped it on because he had that exact problem. Cole: I've only ever seen em' with that string so he’s never really lost em'... though one time he broke them and i had to help him around the store for a week until a friend of his could fix them, its the grumpiest ive ever seen him [ she makes a face like this :y and laughs ] 

Q - ezra i'm serious will you please let me buy you a new coat

Ezra: [he looks down confused at his clothes] ....

Q - ezra why won’t you get a new coat

Ezra:  ...... do i need a new coat...?  *Psalm laughs a little in the bg.*

Q - can you tell us more about your family han?

Han: ha ha hA HA HA HA HA HA HA. no. i want avoid all thought about them.

Q - han which muscle group is your favourite to flex

Han: (sits like the thinker for a long time in contemplative silence) for me, legs and thighs feel most strong. but others like when i flex arms 💪

Q - han you are very cool don’t let anyone tell you otherwise also i love you

Han: i am cool, thank you mystery stranger,  also wH-- 

Q - han do you want to build a snowman

Han: you know, we used to play game where we would roll each other in wheel, down mountain, into snowmen, and who hits most win... fun times. i do want to build snowman again, yes :)

Q - which of you know how to tell direction from the stars

Han: i know ! 😊 (quieter) but only little bit... Cimmorro: ...y’know, someone once tried to teach me how to do this but i’ve fallen asleep while we were talking. [has guilt written all over his face]

Q - han what is your favourite way to wear your hair

Han: ah...my sibling did this complicated braid on me, before... it look very thin, like basket weaving...sad, never learned how they do it (han looks a bit melancholic)

Q - what do you value most in friendship? 

Psalm: I should buy a full pitcher of beer at the next tavern, and for every question about friendship we receive just take a long sip from it. Rokka: the bond! loyalty! respect! this is more than one! oh well! Finn: The ability to confide without fearing loss or judgement. Keva: trust Han: oh, i agree with answer from finn. 

Q - han, cole, and rokka how did you get so swole

Cole: [she taps her forehead] step one...mental fortitude.... Han: (scoffs) have someone on your ass since you have memory Rokka: (taps his biceps) determination! 

Q - May I inquire where you've picked up that rodent from Keva? -Finn

Keva: while traveling

Q - psalm how long have you kept a journal

Psalm: Not very. I just started it. Helps to keep my thoughts organised, and having just reached Shorewater I figured it would be worth chronicling what I got up to.

Q -  psalm you wear a lot of black nail polish but do you have any other colors? what are your favourites?

Psalm: I'm not fond of bright colours (for my nails at least), so black is my favourite. I've never really tried out anything else, but maybe I should, just for a change of pace.

Q - do you guys like piercings ?

Keva: do i like having them or do i like when other people have them what are you asking Rokka: (points at keva) what she said Psalm: Yes, I do have them after all. 

Q -  aaaaalright heres a better question then. would you prefer for your partner to have piercings or not? do you find it attractive?

Psalm: Oh I see. I guess they are attractive aren't they? (lol) Rokka: if they like them then I like them! They can wear whatever they want! I don't really have a preference for it. Finn: As long as it is nothing obscene, I will accept it. It can have its charm, I admit. Keva: i don't really care. i guess? Han: its so cool!! i wanted some myself but aah.. my tribe was very against that thing Cimmorro: yeah and yup.

Q - hey tieflings what’s horn maintenance like for you

Psalm: Not unlike er-, "body maintenance". At least in my case I don't do anything particularly special. Cimmorro: mine are too small to have any need for maintenance. i consider it a lucky thing since it’s less things to worry about.

Q - Psalm, who is your favourite character in GBF? -Finn

Psalm: I like Vania. I have to start playing water now because of her new alt unfortunately but... can't be helped. Finn: Haha, I like that answer. Good luck with your water! Psalm: Oh? I'm glad I passed. And thank you. 

Q - would you ever wear matching couple things with your significant other

Finn: As long as it is fashionably, gladly.... That sounds like a very sweet idea, dear reader. Rokka: yeah!! I think it's cute hehe Psalm: That depends on the thing. Keva: ^ Cimmorro: absolutely

Q - hi um this question is for psalm how do you keep your hooves warm in the winter? do you have socks? leg warmers?

Psalm: That's an interesting question. While I'm not that well versed in the specifics of tiefling anatomy, I do know that keeping warm isn't really an issue for me whenever it gets cold, so I don't typically wear anything like socks.

Q - rokka do you have a favourite meat dish?

Rokka: hmm...anything roasted on a stick? But that's a stick not dish...meat buns!

Q - hey psalm han and plum your brows are amazing what salon do you go to

Han: sah lon? i dont know what that but these run in family Psalm: These are how they are naturally. I have better things to do with my own time than fuss about my appearance too much.

Q - what are your thoughts on the institution of marriage

Psalm: My parents are married and seem to like each other enough, so I suppose it's not so bad. Finn: I think it is merely a matter of who you choose to spend your life with, not marriage itself. So, I would like to be wed happily. Han: (whispers to the asker) whats marriage???? Cimmorro: [tilts head and squints a bit at han again rn]

Q - keva, do you think youll ever learn how to read? if yes, what kind of books would you want to read ?

Keva: (gaze falls to the table at the first question but at the second question she looks up and her eyes slightly squint questioningly at you) idk what kinda books there are bc i can’t read Psalm: Would you like some recommendations? I can read them to you if you want. Keva: (is getting visibly pink) Psalm: ....Is that a no?

Q - for every one, what's the way to your heart??

Finn: Hmm... you must be worthy as my rival! (he gives his rapier a test swing) That is for sure. But should you lack a passion for swordsmanship, please do your best to entertain me at a ball, at the very least. Rokka: um...? (Scratches his head nervously) I'm not sure how to answer this haha....just....please  love me??? *shy* Psalm: I've never thought about it. I just like who I like. Cimmorro: fuck around and find out! 

Q - do you own any porn? what kind

Han: asker, are you sure you dont just want directions to brothel? Rokka: what's a porn and how do you own one? What kinds are there? Psalm: "What's a porn" he says... Don't worry too much about it Rokka. Cimmorro: the only porn you all should be reading is the white book 

Q - would you or would you not try roller skates (shoes with wheels on them)?

Finn: Shoes with wheels on them? That sounds most absurd... and yet... I must inform my uncle of this. Where does one acquire such shoes... ? Rokka: (tries to picture this in his head for too long the interviewer moves on) 🤔 Psalm: This sounds like a prime setup for falling on my ass, so no.

Q - hi vengaboys. i’ve been following your adventures since predebut. i’ve been stuck at home bc of a global pandemic and i gotta say it’s really bumming me out. what should i do

Finn: I have plenty experience with staying at home. A lot of people might tell you to hone a skill or indulge in hobbies you have been neglecting and while that can be a productive use of your time, it is easier spoken than done, no? I recommend, if you are allowed, to seek out quiet places without many people around. That way you do not endanger yourself or anyone else in these trying times. Spending time in nature is quite refreshing. Please look forward to our continued performance, dear reader. Psalm: *Is somewhat amazed.* I don't think I can give a better answer than that one. Rokka: wow finn you're so smart

Q - would you ever become a vegetarian if you aren’t already one

Keva: no Rokka: I don't like salad Psalm: Sure. Finn: I would literally die. I know I like to not die, so no.

Q - To psalm and finn, what’s your thoughts on that belial guy?

Psalm: *coughs into his sleeve* Finn: *does the same*

Q - how do you like to celebrate birthdays

Finn: I think throwing a ball can be quite fun, but I think spending it intimately is far more pleasurable. I am not so vain as to demand a ball each time.

Q - do you have people waiting for you wherever you call home? if you can share, who?

Finn: My family. I can't wait to speak to my cousins again and tell them about this job, shall it go well. Psalm: I'm not sure if "waiting" is the word I'd use, but yes. Cimmorro: i can’t imagine any of those people not wanting my presence again

Q - do you like hugs

Finn: ... If they come from the right people, then yes, certainly. Rokka: oh! yes, I like hugging Psalm: What Finn said. I like them about as much as the average person, although I have a friend that mocks me for not being particularly good at giving them, whatever that means. (How can you be bad at hugging...?) Finn: Perhaps your posture is stiff, Psalm? It can make the hug feel rather "cold", so to speak. Psalm: That's what he said... (He looks lost in thought.) Rokka: psalm if you need practice hugging I am here (stands there with open arms) Finn: Consciously think about your movement. Are you actually bending your torso, properly using your arms? Try with Rokka. Keva: (was about to answer but is now biting her lip to keep from laughing at rokka and finn coaching psalm on hugging) Han: (faces away from this spectacle and slaps a hand over her mouth to not break out laughing too) Psalm: There's a lot more that goes into hugging than I initially thought.

Q -  do you prefer hot weather or cold?

Keva: hot Han: cold!! honestly its too hot in shorewater... i never thought i would miss snow Rokka: more warm than hot......but if i had to choose between the two then it would be cold Finn: I've been preferring cold weather as of late. Psalm: Hot. Cimmorro: personally i’m more of an in between guy but if i’ve no choice then i’d say cold. 

Q -  when was the last time you went on a date

Finn: I'd like to go on one in the first place :cryingcat: Rokka: I wanna go on one too!! Finn: ... Looks like we both have something to gain here. I jest of course. Psalm: *racking his brain* Can't remember. Cimmorro: a couple or so years ago.   

Q -  Hello Vengaboys! We have not had the pleasure of meeting but I am an old friend of Finnian's. He tells me about your travels in his letters and I quite look forward to reading them. Your time in Shorewater sounds like it has been quite the whirlwind! I am writing because I have always known Finnian to be a kind and gentle boy who worries about others often, and I want to be sure he is as okay as he says he is. How is he really? Please treat him well, and please do not tell him I wrote! I imagine he would be quite beside himself with embarrassment if he found out. Sincerely yours, Sagessa  P.S. I do hope we get to meet one day! May Pelor protect you until and long after then.

Rokka: Hello sagessa!! Nice to, uh, read you! I didn't know he had a friend! Yes...shorewater has been super crazzzzy. Kind of scary actually...don't come here. (Lol) you're right he is kind and well so far! He's nice to me and I like him! We shared a bed and it was nice. Also, don't worry my lips are sealed! Promise! Sincerely, Rokka. P.s. I hope to meet you soon! (saying this all outloud) 

Q - Who taught you all how to fight? Or to hone in on a specific skill?

Psalm: I've been trying to figure that out myself. Rokka: my father Finn: *side eyes psalm* I took an interest in swordsmanship early. I've had an instructor and participated in many tournaments. Your opponents are your most valuable teachers. Han: ...the whole tribe, really. Keva: i learned on my own at first. Cimmorro: good ol’ parents gyahaha

Q - do any of you know how to give good massages

Psalm: I know, but whether or not they're "good" remains to be seen. Cimmorro: we were certainly taught basic massage techniques but i don’t really have the strength for it [laughs wryly]

Q - what are your thoughts and feelings about your country or hometown?

Psalm: I'll save time and just say that they're mostly positive. Finn: My hometown is okay. Could be better. :/ Cimmorro: i like my hometown. i can’t imagine settling down anywhere else at the moment.   

Q - do you like bugs

Rokka: yeah, they're neat! Lady bugs were my favourite when I was young. Keva: as long as they're not biting me or trying to get at my food, they're fine Psalm: No, but I'm not scared of them either or anything silly like that. Finn: As a child I was less aversive to them but I must admit I find them most unpleasant and avoid all contact. Cimmorro: yeah!

Q - would you confess to your love interest first

Rokka: idk maybe? I've never been in this situation before do I'm not sure...👉👈 Psalm: It depends. No sense in keeping some things hidden though. Finn: If there is no other way, yes. Cimmorro: sure. beating around the bush feels like a waste of time really.   

Q - Do any of you have any second given names?

Finn: Yes, actually. My second name is Oswald. Han: (scoffs) no. threw it out.

Q - does your chain hang low does it bobble to the floor can you tie it in a knot can you tie in a bow can you throw it o’er your shoulder like a smth smth smth does your chain hang low

Finn: Psalm, do you recognize this writing ? Psalm: It...sounds vaguely familiar, but as I'm not from around here I'm not too sure.

Q - have you ever been to or in a wedding party? do you like going to weddings?

Psalm: I've been to my parents' wedding, but aside from that not really. I do like parties. Wedding parties seem like fun. Cimmorro: i ordain weddings... or, well, i used to. the parties are fun, but overseeing the ceremony itself is something i’d rather avoid.

Q - have you ever been somewhere haunted?

Psalm: I would hope not. Cimmorro: once or twice? strangely fun? i’d recommend it :)

Q - have you ever held a baby

Psalm: Probably? What kind of question is this? Han: ..yeah. Cimmorro: yeah! it was practically my job back then haha

Q - what would be an invention you’d really like to see to make life easier

Psalm: Airships were already invented, so I'm out of ideas. Cimmorro: a portable communication device more efficient than a sending stone sounds nice

Q - plum do you miss your sister?

Plum: yeah. who the hell are you

Q - keva what's your favourite hairstyle?

Keva: there’s up and there’s down idk how to do anything else Finn: You don't know how to do anything else? If you are ever interested I'd be happy to assist you in finding something to your liking. And to teach, shall you wish it. Keva: first psalm now you what is going on Psalm: It's an admirable trait for sure :-). Finn: You could simply stand to make more of yourself, Keva. Keva: you're just making fun of me now Finn: Absolutely not. But let's just say you're not going to impress anyone like this. Keva: who is there to-- i'm not Trying to impr-- okay (she is leaving) Finn laughs quietly to himself as she leaves Psalm: Hmm.. if I ever grow my hair out I'll be sure to come to you Finn. Finn: Gladly.

Q - i heard thru the town crier that you all were not in fact the ones who ruined elfonsent spell but how do i know i can trust you

Psalm: We didn't ruin the ball. Just take the kings' word for it I guess

Q - do you like to draw

Finn: I do not recall ever trying my hand at it. I've no time for such things. Plum: sometimes  Cimmorro: sure.

Q - would you get a tattoo? what and where would it be?

Rokka: What if 😳 I already 😳 have a tattoo😳 ? 😳 On my back 😳 Plum: *confused thinking about all the fur... did they shave him first and then tattoo him? the fuck would be the point if the fur just grows back??* Han: i only have all this birthmark... and if anything, i would like to get rid of them. Cimmorro: i already have one but maybe i’d get a few more 🤔

Q - when you’re not feelin so hot what do you do to cheer yourself up?

Rokka: roaming or good company is always nice...but it hasn't been that easy to have these days. Keva: find somewhere up high Psalm: Not sure. I have the tendency to avoid problems. Plum: drink, i think? pretty sure i drink Han: go as far into a forest as i can Cimmorro: drink

Q - have any of you had a job before this? i know han worked at the swallow’s perch but what about the rest of you? what was the job if you can share?

Psalm: I'm in my early twenties. I think there'd be something wrong if I didn't have some line of work before this. (He ignores the rest of the question.) Plum: i work for an alchemist over in talornia Rokka: check it (starts juggling) Han: hey im still working there ;-; Cimmorro: temple work. i help oversee almost everything.

Q - do any of you know how to play instruments?

Psalm: I definitely can't. Keva: sort of, not really Cimmorro: nah... though i was interested in learning one

Q - any favourite scary stories?

Psalm: I'm pretty ambivalent about the horror genre. Not my thing. Finn: That's a shame. I would've asked you for a recommendation Psalm.

[fangirlf]

Prompt #16 Chuck Shurley

A/N: sorry that this is absolute garbage but yeah here’s the first fic I’ve written in two years

Pairing: Chuck/Reader

Request: Prompt #16 with Chuck

Word Count: 2215

         When you first met Chuck, the prophet of the lord as he once had called himself, you felt something. You felt something for the alcoholic author, even within the first seconds of meeting him, and it scared you. Emotions weren’t really your strong suit. Of course you had them, but you did your damnest to hide them from anyone near you. You had too many emotions, and you knew how easily you could be manipulated if enemies were to find out. So, your primary instinct was to block the prophet out, ignore him until it became rude. Of course, you’d answer his questions and reply when he wanted to talk, but you always kept your responses short and sweet. You knew he had a thing for you, a soft spot even, and that just made it worse.

        It was easier for you to block people out when they didn’t like you to begin with, but you couldn’t deny Fate’s pull between you and Chuck. The night you met was one of the worse nights in your life, mainly because it was the best. You knew what love did to hunters, and of course to those they loved. He was already dealing with throbbing headaches and visions of the world’s end, being a target for literally every monster you’ve come in contact with didn’t seem like a positive addition to his life.

But, Fate’s a bitch and apparently had it out for you. Almost every other case had you meeting up with Chuck, whether it be in New York or California. Your paths would cross quite frequently, much to your dismay. You had even started dreaming about him, nothing too spicy, your dreams mainly consisted of the two of you talking over coffee or brunch. You never remembered the conversations when you awoke in the morning, but it always left you feeling warm, the image of his crystal blue eyes looking kindly into yours as if you were baring your soul for him, branded permanently in your mind’s eye.

Chuck wasn’t an idiot, you knew that. You also knew that he had caught onto what you were doing, why you elected to ignore him. Did that make you stop? No. Of course, you really wanted to. If you hadn’t been brought into this life, maybe you would have explored the relationship, welcomed the sparks that caused your stomach to do backflips with open arms. But, woe is you, as that was not the case.

You were currently at a Supernatural convention, tricked into attending by Becky sending a fake red alert text to Dean through Chuck’s phone. You vaguely wondered how she got her hands on his phone, but quickly let the thought slip past your mind. There was no need to feel jealous over somebody you weren’t even going to chase after. Still, you felt a small twinge of dislike for the girl, and you weren’t too disappointed when she shifted her focus on Sam once more.

“You’re kidding me- there are people who actually want to be us?” Dean asks in his usual, overly-dramatic tone.

“Hey, I’m just as surprised as you are,” Chuck defends himself before a man walks up to him and says “5 minutes Mr. Edlund” before walking off. Chuck gives the three of you an apologetic look before turning around and making his way to the stage for Q and A, which, of course, went as well as you would expect. You weren’t sure how he was able to stay up on that stage without a bathroom break with as much water as he had been chugging. You definitely did not want to switch places with him, you’d be as nervous a wreck as he was.

And, now, he needed to be up there longer than he expected as the three of you found an actual case amidst the conventions ‘hunt’, and guess who got to go tell him while the other two went to collect the others? You, of course. Inwardly groaning, you walked up to the stage, Chuck’s eyes immediately falling onto you, curiosity evident in his expression but a delighted grin on his face nonetheless. You bit down the warm sensation you felt in your pit as you motioned for him to come closer.

“We have a problem,” you whispered hurriedly in his ear. His brows furrowed at your tone.

“What? What is it?” he asked, making sure to speak away from the mic.

“Turns out there’s an actual case here. You need to keep everyone in here until we give you the all clear,” you say, trying not to eye the audience that was completely silent, curious as to what you were talking about. God, you hated crowds.

“I-I have to be up here longer? Yeah, sure, no sweat,” he said, obviously not believing himself. You gave him an apologetic smile.

“Good luck,” you pat his shoulder and hopped off the stage.

“(y/n), wait!” he whisper-yelled. You turned back to him, standing in front of the first row of the audience. He gave you a desperate look, one he would always give you when you had to go back to hunting. You inhaled slowly and responded in a whisper that only he could hear.

“Look, I have to go do this, Chuck. So unless you have anything to tell me about the thing we’re dealing with, save it.”

You knew you were being rude, but the only other option would be to fall into the old lover’s quarrel over whether or not you should be doing something dangerous that could help others. So, biting back an “I’m sorry,” you turned on your heel and made your way back to the brothers.

The rest of the night wasn’t so bad, compared to other cases you’d been on. The three of you were able to burn the remains of the three boys, with help from two LARPing convention-goers. With the dangers lifted, everyone started making their way out of the hotel. Dean was talking with the fake Dean and Sam that burned the boys�� bones, while Sam was stuck listening to Becky gush over him. You were making your way back to the impala, wanting to get out of there, when you saw Chuck walking in your direction. You picked up your pace, not wanting to have to shield your emotions for much longer. It wasn’t everyday that you spent an entire day with the man you were almost certain was your soulmate, only to have to cram those feelings back inside yourself. You needed a break.

“(Y/n), stop, please!”

You sighed, knowing that he knew you heard him say your name and not having the heart to ignore him. You stopped in your tracks, waiting for him to catch up to you. When he did, you kept your eyes to the ground. He was silent for awhile, all you heard from him was breathing. It took you a minute to realize that he wanted you to look at him, which turned out to be a bad idea. His ocean blue eyes held so many emotions in them as they stared into yours. You faintly remembered the first time you locked eyes, feeling like you could get lost in them for days on end, with no regard for the world around you. That was almost always what it was like, staring into his eyes. You felt like the world melted away around you, leaving nothing but you and Chuck, together. Of course, this feeling scared you from the beginning. Getting lost in something, even if it’s the eyes of the person you loved, wasn’t the smartest thing to do when you’re a hunter.

Chuck gently held your hands in his, breaking you from your thoughts. “(y/n), don’t you see? The harder you push me away, the more I want to know you.”

You looked away, opting to stare at the trees surrounding the hotel’s parking lot, processing what he said. Though simple those words are separately, they almost brought tears to your eyes.

“Chuck,” you say, your voice nearly inaudible, tears threatening to spill. You cursed inwardly, knowing that this would happen sooner or later. See, you were great at bottling things up, but you weren’t so good at keeping those things from exploding.

He squeezed your hands gently, causing you to meet his eyes once more. “How long are you going to fight this, to fight me?” he asks, his voice cracking. “You know there’s something here.”

“Chuck, I can’t. You know the life I live, I can’t have all the bad guys coming after you, using you as leverage.”

“(y/n), I’m protected by an archangel, I don’t think they’d let anything happen to me.”

“Yeah well, angels are dicks. Yeah, they need you alive, but they don’t care if you’re hurt, or if you’re tortured to death. They’ll just bring you back,” you shake your head, adding a “Maybe,” at the end.

“So what? Is that any different than what you and the Winchesters go through? Trust me when I say, I can handle myself,” he reassures you, and for a moment, the insecure, paranoid prophet you knew was gone and replaced by someone more… confident, someone who you would relate with the phrase ‘old and wise’. You weren’t exactly sure why, but you believed him when he said he could handle himself, even if he wasn’t a hunter.

“Are you sure about that?” you asked, although you already knew the answer, and by the expression on Chuck’s face, he knew that you did.

“Look, all I’m asking for is a chance,” his eyes search yours desperately, hands holding yours as if you’d let go at any moment. You knew you should have tore your gaze from his, but you couldn’t deny the bond between the two of you. You wanted nothing more than to be with him, have an ‘apple pie life’ as Sam once called it, but no one really gets out of the life. Shit catches up to you when you settle down, hitting you when you least expect it. With all this information, the logical choice would be to turn on your heel and run, never looking back.

You sighed, for what seemed like the umpteenth time today, and gave his hands a squeeze. You thought about being logical but figured, screw it, when has being logical ever worked out in your favor? Maybe half the time, maybe more. You’d take your chances.

Instead of giving him a verbal response - something you were not so great at when it came to emotions - you tugged his hands, pulling him closer to you before pressing your lips against his in a gentle, sweet kiss. His arms immediately found their way to your waist, pulling your body flush against his as he deepened the kiss, surprising you a little seeing as Chuck wasn’t very pro-risk.

You faintly heard whooping near you, although you weren’t quite where it came from when the fact hit you that you were still in public, the center of attention for the rest of the convention-goers who hadn’t left as soon as the doors were open. You had the decency to pull away, your cheeks tinted with the lightest shade of pink. Chuck smiled at you, a genuinely happy expression on his face for once, and you couldn’t deny being just a little bit proud of being the person who caused it.

“So I-I take it that’s a yes?” he asks, eyes seeming a shade lighter than before.

“No, I just wanted to kiss you before I inevitably run away and don’t come back,” you reply like the smartass you are. You could tell by his expression that he wasn’t completely sure if you were joking or not. You roll your eyes, playfully hitting his shoulder. “Of course it’s a yes.”

“Fuckin’ finally,” You heard Dean curse behind you. You shook your head, a small smile on your lips, and as you looked at the prophet, you knew things would be okay. Of course, there would be pain and suffering like always, but things would be… relatively okay. You hadn’t realized it, but you had been carrying so much anxiety and fear with you - about hunting, about your emotions, everything - and when you finally let him in, you felt as if your fears had been washed clean, like a blank slate.

You’ve heard stories of people meeting their so-called ‘soulmates’, and how the feeling was like being reset, giving you a blank slate to work with once more and allowing you to learn from your past mistakes and not hold guilt for the things you couldn’t control. You’d never really believed the whole ‘soulmate’ thing, it’d seemed too far fetched for your taste. Only having one person to truly be yours, falling for them before even getting to know them, that didn’t seem likely. But, as you stood here, in Chuck’s embrace, staring up into his kind eyes, you started to think that maybe the idea of a ‘soulmate’ wasn’t so bad. That maybe, just maybe, Chuck was your soulmate and you were his.

The small smile that rested on your face turned into a grin.

I’d be okay with that, you told yourself.

And Chuck agreed.