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neutron-stars-collision · 3 months

Text

Deadlines & Commitments

Neil x F!Reader

Chapter 7 - Bermondsey Underground Station

Masterlist; Chapter 6 Summary: You reconnect with Neil a couple of days after the night you spent together. The meeting sparks many questions and revelations. In other news: Tenet agents are a nuisance. Neil knows that best. Warnings: Swearing, explicit language, tiny bits of angst because who would I be without it. Author's Notes: It's been 84 years... but it's here! 🎉 And it's 16k apparently. Sorry about that. As you've noticed my brain (and heart) are all over the place but this story is still very much alive. These two are not letting me go, soo... Let's keep going. Thank you to anyone who's waited this long 💕 I really appreciate you. I've got so much planned for them and very excited to share it with you. And, seeing as from next Saturday I'll be in London for a week, there might be even more inspiration ✨ (I'm definitely taking Jubilee Line from St. John's Wood to Canary Wharf. It's all I'm saying) For now - enjoy two idiots being idiots. And a cameo appearances from the Tenet crew because it's high time Cupid met them ;))) Taglist: @hollandorks, @kristevstewart, @stargirl25 (let me know if you want to be added)

Checking the contents of your bag one last time before leaving the flat, you sighed from the oncoming headache already building behind your temple. What a stupid idea it was to hit the snooze button five times instead of being a big girl and getting up at the first sound of your alarm. Now, thanks to your idiocy, you had no time to get that much-needed hit of caffeine if you were to make it for the usual 7:21 train from St. John’s Wood. And you were keen to make it. If only because you promised him.

You were less eager to admit other reasons motivated the rush, going far beyond an agreement that Neil would not hold it against you if you were to break the promise. Reasons such as the inexplicable itch underneath your skin that started sometime last night upon a reminder that you were going to see him today. For the first time since that night. The nightÔ - now officially trademarked, thanks to your idiotic brain. The feeling did not cease even when you tried to remind yourself that there was nothing extraordinary about what transpired then. No actual reason to behave in this irrational way.

Nothing of importance happened. Nothing ground-breaking or life-changing. Just an expected result of weeks of flirting and tension triggered by a bottle of red wine and a natural connection. Just spectacular sex.

If you dared add. A self-satisfied smile stretched over your face at a mere memory, powering you through those final steps before you could leave the apartment and lock the doors, bounding down the steps with no concern over the noise. Fuck the neighbours. Or something like that.

By now, four days later, you were quite good at getting rid of the confusing thoughts the moment they bloomed. Not seeing Neil certainly helped, as did the harrowing afternoons and evenings devoted to the performances. On the stage, you never had the time to think about nonsense such as this, focused on executing the choreography and maintaining that signature, flirtatious Cupid smile that was even rewarded a mention in one of the first ballet reviews. (Truly, a highlight of your unmemorable life if you were to be honest).

The other thing that helped make sense of the mess in your head was Neil’s phone call. It acted as a push in the right direction, a reminder that you had to be the reasonable one. The one to guide him along, highlighting the facts as there were. That the night mattered, in the meaning that it was hardly forgettable. Nothing had to change between you. And most importantly, Neil was the one calling the shots because you were more than happy to continue.

You repeated those truths in the quiet of your head until they felt like certainties. And now, finally, they did. On a cloudy Wednesday morning, you could freely admit you knew what you were doing. The Friday night confusion was just a glitch, an inconsequential event in the grand scheme of things that would bear no impact. Now or ever.

Smiling as you shouldered past the loitering tourists at the entrance to the station, you allowed yourself a nod. Everything was in order. The last piece of the puzzle – Neil’s say in the matter – was the only thing missing.

Despite the wish to remain as detached as possible, you hoped it would be a ‘yes’ rather than the opposite. Even if only because your selfish soul did not want to let him go. Just yet.

The 7:21 train arrived at the platform as you stepped off the escalator and rushed into the middle carriage. By now, your gaze was trained on finding Neil with embarrassing speed, eyes darting over the faces of commuters until they would find what they sought. Today, it took less than ten seconds to locate him, sat in one of the double-seat rows. Neil must have been on the lookout as well, for as soon as your eyes fell on him, you found him staring back. An unshakeable shiver travelled down your spine as Neil’s mouth quirked into a smile. Friendly, yet uncertain. As if he was debating the possibility that you could turn on your heel and leave instead of crossing the space to join him. The idea seemed ridiculous enough that you had to smother a laugh as you fell into the plastic seat with a bright grin ready on your face.

There was no other place you would rather be. Truly.

“Hi,” raising your hand in a pointless wave, you widened the obnoxious grin and allowed yourself another scanning look over his face.

Nothing seemed to be amiss except for the slight weariness in his gaze, as if, for Neil, the few days apart did not eradicate the doubts and worries. As if he was still not sure where you would go from here. Or how he should act around you now. After everything.

You vowed to erase his concerns before you were to part at Southwark. That simply would not do.

“Hey…” Neil murmured the complimentary greeting, his hands flexing in his lap. Before you could decide to reach over and still their nervous twitching, a flash of pain passed through your skull, making you wince. That did not go unnoticed “Are you okay?” the softness of his tone made your heart give out a warning summersault.

With anyone else, you would heed the warning and do everything to get rid of the strange sensation filling your chest. With Neil, you could only swallow past the feeling and offer him a dimmed smile and an honest reply:

“Yeah, it’s just a headache. I didn’t have the time for coffee if I wanted to make it” the grumpiness shone through your voice as you pressed your fingers against the throbbing spot on your temple and sent an inward curse to the gods responsible for the passage of time.

With half the mind to start digging in your bag for the painkiller that was definitely (hopefully) somewhere inside, you did not clock Neil’s movements until he tapped your knee and placed a takeaway coffee cup in your line of vision. Startled, you turned your head to look at him, an unasked question already on your tongue.

“Here, you can finish this” flashing you an easy smile, Neil all but shoved the lukewarm cup into your hand.

Your brain needed additional minutes to process the unforeseen developments as you tightened the hold over the cup and regarded him silently. Only then the shocked, delighted smile made an appearance on your face:

“Good god, I didn’t know we’re at the stage where we’re sharing caffeine sources” the faux gasp was a worthwhile addition, triggering Neil’s laughter.

For a split second, you were content to bask in the glory of it and the knowledge that you were the sole cause. You did this to him.

Still, the sentiment was true. You could barely recall the last time someone was kind enough to buy coffee for you, let alone share theirs. And never on their own accord, leaving you almost lightheaded from the tenderness of the gesture. You stifled the feeling with another exaggerated smile.

“Do you want it or not?” Neil arched his eyebrow, aiming for sternness but failing.

You could see the joy in his eyes, lighting them from within.

“Oh, I do, I do” sending him one last grin, you raised the cup to your mouth and took a long sip. As that first taste of the cappuccino hit your tastebuds, you stifled a pleased groan and relaxed into the seat, “Thank you, kind Sir” tipping an invisible top hat at Neil, you cherished another chuckle dragged out of him and added, “You’ve saved my life” taking another sip, you met Neil’s gaze, seemingly unwavering in its focus on your face.

You watched as his eyes roamed over your features to glance at your mouth and stay there. Stuck perhaps. Without daring to give it second thoughts, you allowed your tongue to dart out and swipe over your lips. Even then, you did not look away from Neil, feeling the electricity crackle and snap between you. Another beat passed before he looked up, startled and caught with the blush dusting his cheeks. It was impossible not to chuckle, breaking the tension by looking away.

Not without effort. And not for long.

“Eternally at your service” you got as far as downing the coffee before Neil spoke again, his quip making you inhale sharply.

Being caught unaware by blatant flirting was new. Unprecedented, yet not unwelcome. And easily redeemed. You turned your head to meet Neil’s unwavering gaze and offered a knowing smirk, matching his expression. Without wasting another second, you leaned in closer, eradicating the gap between you and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“You are, aren’t you?” the question did what you needed it to as Neil leaned back enough to meet your gaze again and quirked the corner of his mouth into a pleased smile.

The awkwardness of those first few minutes seemed to be past you now, overtaken by the easy banter. You settled into the feeling and the comfort it brought without trying to understand why that was the case. It was better that way.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, you felt Neil’s gaze back on you. Its weight was not a burden, leisurely caressing the outlines of your body before opening the page for a new question:

“So… How’s work?” you glanced at Neil just in time to see his easy smile, the interest clear in his eyes.

That part of your friendship was something you valued highly because you could not find it anywhere else. With anyone else. Only Neil seemed to care about the mechanics of professional ballet and the trials and tribulations it entailed. Only he seemed curious about your goals and aspirations, always so eager to hype you up despite you never asking for it.

You were sure the soft smile was already present on your face as you offered him a reply:

“It’s good. Got stellar reviews, as I’ve told you, and now the other Cupid is taking over for a couple of days so I can prepare for the auditions for the next one” the mention of what awaited spiked your anxiety, even if only by a fraction.

Because the prospect was terrifying. Even with the hours of prep and previous season’s experience, you could not ignore the fears. There was no certainty you were good enough to get another breaking role. There was no confidence in that matter either if you had to search your heart and soul. There was only fear nagging at the edges of your conscience with increasing urgency.

You knew it would only get worse in the span of half a week that was left.

“The Nutcracker?” Neil’s complimentary question kept you anchored in the present.

It also proved that he listened to all the bullshit you spewed every time you met. And that, much like shared coffee and the desire to get to know you, was worth more than you could express. More than you dared contemplate if you wanted to maintain the relatively unbothered mood and the illusion of nonchalance.

“Yeah. I’ll prepare a couple of variations and hope for the best” only when you felt Neil’s hand cover yours did you become aware of your fidgeting, of the restless fingers picking at the hangnails. The comforting weight of his palm stilted the movement and offered bravery you did not realise you needed to speak the thoughts into existence, “I could show you what I’ve got in a couple of days,” the wavering notes of your voice made you cringe, instantly removing any pretence of cool you wished you could maintain. If only because you cared. Too much “If you-” the end of that rambled disclaimer was cut short.

Thank god.

“I’d like that” Neil squeezed your hands and sent you a reassuring smile, somehow already knowing what it was that you needed, “Seems like I’m already experiencing the withdrawal symptoms” the candid tone did nothing to help you ignore his wink or minimise the impact of the statement.

You blinked twice as your brain absorbed and processed the words. Only then you turned towards Neil with a deadpan expression and asked:

“… from my unremarkable dancing?” measuring him up silently, you took passive note of the station you had just arrived at.

There was still time. Time to offer Neil space to take back what he just bestowed on you. For him to deny the praise hidden in the corners of his affectionate smile and within the light in his eyes. But he did not seem eager to backtrack on the words you did not think you deserved.

“From your incredible dancing, Cupid,” signing off the accolade with another one of his charming smiles, he lifted your hand to his lips and turned it to press a fleeting kiss to the inside of your wrist.

Over the pulse point. A gasp was inevitable as you closed your eyes and let the sensation burn through your body and soul. Just as Neil intended. It was fleeting, yet the impact felt almost permanent. Impossible to shake off.

You did your best, opening your eyes to see his pleased smirk and ignoring it entirely to huff in pretend annoyance:

“Christ, you’re such a charmer” an eye roll thrown into the mix completed the act as Neil let go of your hand and let it drop back to your lap.

The sensation persisted, making your skin tingle. Unconsciously, your thumb rubbed over the exact spot he kissed. It did nothing to eradicate the sensitivity.

“You like it, though” mindless of your turmoil, Neil bumped his shoulder into yours, the dangerous grin blooming on his beautiful face.

It took you one look to know you were foolish to think one night with him could have been enough. Stupid to believe Neil was someone you could let slip through your fingers after getting to have him. Now, with the decision entirely up to him, you could only wait, taking what was freely offered. With that reminder, it was easy to forgo the remains of pretence. Even if just this once. Once more.

“You’re right” the only sign that he was not expecting your straightforward answer was how his eyes widened, roaming over your face with renewed intensity. By now, you knew there was no point in trying to decipher his looks, so you simply stared back. Unwavering and confident in what you wanted him to know, “I like you,” noting the slight hitch in his breath, you added, “Neil,” emphasizing his name the way you did on Friday night, you met his increasingly alarmed gaze and offered a smile. A wordless reassurance that he need not fret that you have gone insane. Not yet, anyway. Before the charged moment could evolve into something you could not control, you swallowed hard and asked the only question that required no thinking or clarity of mind, “How’s the parish?”

The manic grin, signing off the not-subtle change of topic, was a touch too much. Admittedly. It slid off your face as quickly as it appeared and was buried in the hard stare you directed at the dirty floor of the carriage.

But not for long.

“Great, many… devotees and all” the joy in Neil’s voice alone was not enough to make you look up.

But it was enough to make you crack a tentative smile, relieved that the joke still had not gone stale. You quite enjoyed it. For whatever reason.

Following the hopeful thought, you raised your head again to meet his gaze. On the periphery of your attention, you noticed the fact that Neil had never looked away, but you filed the knowledge for future use (that would likely never come) and instead offered him a cheeky look:

“All that jazz?” framing your face with infamous jazz hands, you waited with bated breath for the quip to land.

It did with an uproar of laughter and Neil’s striking eyes gazing at you with something you could not decipher if you tried. Wordlessly, you offered him something similar, an affectionate look that spoke words you never could force your tongue to form. It spoke of comfort. Of being understood like never before. The gratitude in Neil’s face was worth the risk.

“Jazz and hymnals,” offering you another manic grin, he broke the eye contact to glance at the floor. Before you could begin to think of something to say, Neil swallowed hard and spoke again, “Actually, I wanted to ask if you wanted to join me and some of my work friends in a pub on Friday?” the only sign that he was nervous was the slight tremble in his voice, followed with close to no time given for your answer, before Neil dived into another winded explanation, “It’s just a hangout, but ever since I dared mention that I met a ballerina, they won’t stop pestering me about you” a nervous chuckle tore from his parted mouth, making you look up and study him closely. That strange shyness seemed to be back, as always out of place on such a beautiful face. It bloomed along the sharp lines of his cheekbones and in how he picked at the chapped skin of his bottom lip with his teeth. Without thinking, you covered his fidgeting hands with yours. A gentle squeeze was all the confirmation you needed to know it was a good call, “So I want to introduce you” his earnest eyes met yours, but before you could even think about the answer, Neil added, “As my friend” he nodded, once and curtly as if convincing himself of what he just said and he fell silent.

The resulting pause was almost hard to absorb. It rang in your ears like an explosion. That was not something you expected to hear. Probably never. Not from Neil. Admittedly, the concept of him talking about you with someone else seemed foreign enough to be nonsense. Not probable.

And yet. You did not have to search your heart to know what the answer was supposed to be.

Aware of the few different ways you could approach it, you chose to fall back on what came naturally. Unlike honesty and vulnerability.

“As long as no one asks me to get on my knees and pray, I’m in” shooting Neil a smirk that felt a tad too much, you waited for his startled gaze to meet yours and winked, dropping your voice a notch to share what was meant for his ears only “And yes, I would get on my knees for other reasons” there was nothing to add there.

And nothing to take back either. No regrets as you stared at Neil, patiently awaiting a response. All the while, your fingers kept the loose hold over his hand, brushing over his knuckles in repetitive moves to soothe the both of you. Even if you would never admit as much.

You watched as the shock in his eyes gave way to begrudged acceptance, disappointed yet not surprised by your constant desire to be a nuisance. It was almost flattering. It made your blood sing with a spark of something you were keen to assign to pure exhilaration. And arousal, too.

“I didn’t ask” after what felt like ages of silence, Neil swallowed hard and made an effort to look away from you, feigning disinterest.

Still, his fingers squeezed yours, betraying the act. Smiling, you squeezed back and disentangled your hand from his as you took note of the approaching station. It was funny (and fucking annoying) how fast time seemed to pass when one wanted to cherish every second.

“But you wanted to,” shrugging upon Neil’s arched eyebrow and an indignant noise of protest that was never going anywhere, you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek fleetingly and got up from the seat “Give me time and place, and I’ll be there” smiling in the face of his utter bewilderment, you added, “On my best behaviour” a glance out the window showed you the tiled wall of the Southwark station, and signalled that it was high time to move.

Unfortunately.

“Like right now?” the humour in Neil’s voice was a reason to look back at him, taking note of the delight you could see on his face.

It proved all you already knew. He enjoyed it. All of it. Your insanity included. The understanding was enough to make you grin like a mad woman and nod:

“Yes, exactly,” the carriage drew to a slow stop, and people rushed from their seats as you gripped the railing and met Neil’s gaze for another prolonged moment.

“Perfect,” mirroring your smile, Neil’s mouth twisted into another trademark smirk.

The doors slid open with the PA message talking of gaps and stations. You raised your hand in a brief wave as you let the tide of commuters lead you onto the platform and away from Neil.

Not bad for a first meeting. Right?

***

In hindsight, which was a gift many possessed, but Neil decidedly did not, it was probably expected, that his friends would take every opportune moment to ask about Cupid. Even when taking a short break in the common room. Even when he was halfway through the second espresso of the day (and a third cup of coffee, because whoever needed sanity, anyway?). Even when it was the last thing he expected. Or, perhaps, especially then.

“How’s your ballerina, mate?” the question arrived exactly when Neil had his mouth full of coffee and was too busy staring at his phone to realise he was targeted with another of Ives’ laser stares.

A coughing fit, brought forward by the ever so graceful tendency to choke on drinks whenever cornered, was the only answer Neil was capable of for the first ten seconds. Glaring at Ives with what he hoped was enough murderous intent to make the soldier reflect on his actions, he put the cup on the coffee table in front and glanced at the remaining person in the room. Just to anticipate further assault, should it follow. Naturally.

Wheeler seemed unbothered, sipping her daily green tea and scrolling on the phone. But by now, Neil knew better than to ignore her existence. With one final warning look in her direction, he turned back to Ives. Just in time to see an infuriating grin spread over the man’s face, begging to be wiped with a punch. Ignoring the urge to do just that, Neil offered a reply:

“She’s… good. Great” the words felt flat, not measuring up to everything Cupid was.

But it was also the only admiration Neil was willing to impart to them. Those words were safe, not betraying the exact depths of his affection. He might not be embarrassed about how much he valued Cupid and every little thing about her, but he was certainly not eager to get into another conversation that would lead nowhere. The teasing was awful, as it was already.

“Of course she is,” Ives’ repartee muttered loudly enough to be heard by Neil from the other side of the room was accompanied by another of his annoying smirks.

Was Neil a better, smarter person, he probably would have ignored it. But he was neither better nor smarter. The spark of exasperation has been lit, burning through his chest with increased ferocity. But, sadly, no matter how frustrated Neil felt, he knew that none of it warranted physical violence. Yet, that is.

So, leaning back on the sofa to at least maintain physical comfort, since the mental one was not available, Neil chose to channel the ire into words.

“Your point?” arching his eyebrow, he focused his gaze on the current enemy of the state, awaiting an answer. When nothing followed except for Ives’ nonchalant shrug and Wheeler’s scoff in the background, he continued, “Never mind, I don’t care” he knew he sounded like a petulant child throwing a tantrum, but there was hardly anything to do but push onwards, choosing this moment to drop the news his ‘friends’ (way too generous term) surely would be interested in “I invited her to the pub, by the way,” Neil could feel the grin making its place on his face, erasing any pretence of indifference “Tomorrow” even the reminder alone was enough to spark the excitement.

Alongside it, he could feel the inklings of anxiety bloom to life. If only because he had no idea how Cupid would react to the antics of his friends. Or whether his dear crew was even capable of surviving her. He pushed past the worrying thoughts for the time being by reaching out for the cookies on the table. The sweetness of chocolate chips melted on his tongue, eradicating the fears. For now.

“Why?” this time, Ives’ question was stripped of all remaining nonchalance and certainty.

He was not expecting that. Neil’s mouth twisted into a smirk, revelling in satisfaction. He met the man’s surprised stare with confidence, taking in the uncertainty coming to life underneath that cocksure act his friend liked to maintain. Well, no more.

One glance at Wheeler confirmed the upper hand he has seemingly achieved, making Neil push forward:

“Because maybe once you meet her, you’ll stop being so annoying about this,” the steel edge in his tone was not something he could explain.

Except that he suddenly felt the need to defend the relationship with the woman in question against all forms of offence. Even imaginary.

“No chance, sweetheart” it seemed that Ives did not need as much time as Neil hoped to recover.

The grin was back on his face, accompanied by a wink. Outrageous. Ignoring the sudden urge to hiss like a furious cat, Neil rolled his eyes and dropped his gaze to the table.

Despite her suspicious silence, he could feel Wheeler’s eyes boring holes into his head from her perch in the corner of the room. That was a ticking bomb, awaiting her moment in the chaos to blow up. Or, less dramatically put, waiting for her time to shine and ask a question Neil knew he would not be able to answer. It hung over his head like the guillotine’s blade.

“Yeah, I worried as much,” punctuating the annoyance with a huff, he raised his head with renewed determination. It fueled the words he needed to be spoken, “Still, Cupid is delightful, so you’ll sure like her” it was as much a certainty as it was a plea.

A hopeful thought. A dose of wishful thinking, indeed.

Somewhere at the back of his head, Neil became aware of the many different words to describe her whirling around his brain, thousands of synonyms and endearments scratching at his consciousness. As if desperate to be heard. To make a point. But there was no point to make here. Cupid was a delight. She was also the most beautiful woman he had ever met. She was someone he could not have. But that was alright. It really was.

“I’ve no doubts about that” Wheeler’s voice broke the silence, startling Neil. He turned his head sharply to face her, noticing the quiet confidence visible in her sharp green gaze. Still, he appreciated the vote of trust, “Did you kiss?” the question exploded with the force of an atomic bomb.

As he should have expected. The nonchalance in her face told Neil he fucked up, ignored the signs, and now he has been left gaping at his two tormentors with no way out of the interrogation. Well, he could have just got up and left. But Neil was also pretty sure he would be cornered in the lift next. Or on the stairs. Or wherever else it was possible to torture him. Sighing heavily, Neil sagged onto the sofa and covered his face with his hands. A deep breath or two were in order. Perhaps he was overreacting. The dramatic tendencies yet again won with any sense of logic or stoicism. As always.

Fuck it. Heaving another weary sigh, Neil raised his head to stare at the wall as he stammered:

“I- We-” finally, he summoned enough courage to say what needed to be said, “Yeah… we did” with the speed of his thoughts at the minute, it was no surprise that the brain did not get the memo to stop fucking talking. No surprise at all to hear himself add another tidbit of information, almost without his conscious decision to do so, “We also had sex” as soon as the words left this mouth, Neil groaned, barely resisting the urge to get up and flee the scene with burning cheeks and mortification capable of killing him on the spot.

The fact that this sometimes happened – saying things before he was even aware he was doing it – was embarrassing enough. Especially now. The silence in the room upon his ill-timed admission felt thick enough to be cut with a knife. Even a butter knife. Unwilling to see the exact reactions on the faces of his companions, Neil trained his gaze on the floor, feeling the blood rush in his ears, the pulse pounding with worrying speed. He could feel their stares, boring holes in his head and trying to peer inside.

“You- what?” in the few years of knowing Ives, Neil was sure he had never heard the man quite so flabbergasted.

If it were not so surprising he would almost find the reaction offensive. Because why was it so unexpected? He tried not to ponder the answers to that question.

“Last Friday, after the ballet,” throwing the background information with as much indifference as possible, Neil slowly raised his head.

He was met with a wide-eyed stare from Ives’, his bright blue eyes seemingly stuck in a constant state of shock. Yeah, that was that when it came to not being offended. Exasperation rose in his chest, tempting Neil to do something very stupid. But before he could utter another word, Wheeler’s question filled the silence:

“So, you’re together now?” contrasting her trusted partner in crime, the brown-haired woman appeared disturbingly calm.

She put down the cup of tea with a measured move and rested her hip against the cupboards, unnervingly staring at Neil.

There was no need. He seemed unable to keep quiet anyway.

“No, of course not. I’ve told you that she doesn’t do relationships. It’s just sex” this was an answer long prepared, something he could recite from the heart. Why that was, Neil dared not think. Instead, he shrugged, for the umpteenth time within the past ten minutes, wishing to exit the conversation and escape to the North Pole. Or someplace like that. Polar bears were sure much better company to the two idiots he was paired off with presently, “Why are you staring at me like that, Ives?” he could hear the edge in his voice, the sharpness of vowels revealing the depths of annoyance.

The last thing Neil needed was someone sowing doubts about what was unchangeable. Not now when he finally began to feel settled again, for the first time since that fateful Friday night. Now, when he was so close to giving Cupid the answer. Now, when he almost felt like he knew what he wanted to do about it.

Not now.

“Because I think you’ve gone insane” there was no dose of mercy or understanding in Ives’ reply; the man focused his blue-eyed gaze on Neil without respite, clearly driven to say his part. For better or for worse, “You don’t do casual sex. With anyone” before Neil could offer an interjection at what was clearly not true, the man continued. Somehow filled with more passion and conviction, “Christ, I’m pretty sure you turned down at least three girls for that very reason last year. You’re a romantic, Neil” the sign-off proved to be the last straw.

Neil rolled his eyes against the allegation and stood up, fire blazing in his gaze. For whatever reason, he did not know. Except that something in the impertinent tirade of his friend irked him beyond compare.

Yes, maybe what Ives said was true. Maybe he turned down offers for casual sex before. But that did not mean a thing. Because all those other women were not her. They were not worth changing his ideals for what could also prove to be an unsatisfactory result. Only she seemed worth the risk.

And yes, Neil was aware of how pathetic that sounded. He shook his head against the ridiculous thoughts and paced the room before finding apt words to defend his choices. Not that he had to defend anything, of course. Still-

“No, I’m not” if that was a stretch, no one had to be any wiser. Just in case, however, Neil trained his gaze on the floor instead of looking at his companions, “Just because I’ve never done it before doesn’t mean I can’t now” there, that sounded perfectly composed and reasonable “It’s fine. I like her, and we’ve got a good thing going” finishing the speech with the only sentiment he was moderately sure of, Neil risked a glance at his friends.

Ives still looked infuriatingly impassioned, as if barely holding himself back from making more incorrect assumptions, but it was Wheeler’s expression that made Neil falter. His restless eyes finally found purchase for more than a second at a time. If only so he could understand what that introspective look in her eyes meant. And what potential trouble could it bring.

“If you say so,” Ives’ dejected reply almost went unnoticed, falling under the radar as the man sighed heavily, as it was him who was being violently verbally attacked.

The audacity was something else.

“We’re just worried about you. We’d rather avoid a repeat of the last time someone broke your heart” Wheeler’s voice was laced with concern as she breached the space and placed her hand on Neil’s shoulder with a stoic yet meaningful look in her eyes.

The tight smile completed the picture as she squeezed his shoulder and left as quickly as she had approached him. Still, the gesture lingered, making Neil falter. Because he knew what Wheeler meant. He knew it too well. Sometimes during those darkest moments, he could still remember how it felt. The searing pain in his chest and the inescapable knowledge that he was not enough. That he never would be. That the heartbreak would follow him wherever he went because there was no universe in which Neil was destined for a happily ever after.

Sometimes, it was easy to believe that, too.

Most of the time, however, he ignored those thoughts. Like now, when that first sting of tears at the back of his eyelids spelt trouble and unwanted attention. When he could feel the tightness in his throat threaten to trigger something no one wanted to see in public. Not now. Not ever.

Instead, Neil plastered on another obnoxious grin. The blinding strength of it was almost enough to get rid of the residual feelings.

“Well, worry not! It won’t happen” to reinforce the intended effects, Neil notched up the cockiness in his smirk and flopped back onto the sofa with all the air of someone certain they were making correct decisions.

Or, at least, that was the hope. That no one would see past his act despite the edges of the mask slipping with every second.

Taking a fortifying breath, Neil swallowed hard and settled against the cushions, hoping the softness would anchor him. A glance at the watch confirmed his hopes – not much time was left till he had somewhere to be. A handy excuse to leave faintly appeared on the horizon, teasing him with potential and salvation. Only, it still had to wait…

As soon as the faint hope glimmered, making Neil feel a tiny bit better about his current situation, Ives broke the silence. The only way he knew how:

“So… how was the sex?” Neil’s head swivelled in the direction of the man at breakneck speed, a blush already blooming on his cheeks.

It was mortifying how little it took to reduce him to a blushing fool these days. How one mention of Cupid, or the moment they shared, was enough to render him incapable of acting like a grown-up. How there was nothing to do about it but groan out loud and cover his face with his hands, hoping to escape the scrutiny. While knowing it was too late, anyway.

Before he could find an apt response (or any words at all, in fact), Wheeler interrupted the silence with her frustrated sigh, annoyance tinting the words:

“Ives, for fuck’s sake…” even without looking at her friend, Neil knew she was rolling her eyes, equally fed up with Ives’ antics.

Not for the first time, he felt gratitude for her existence and the constant intolerance of bullshit. Neil hoped to convey as much through a quick smile, shot in her direction sometime between staring at the floor and pondering the best course of action. She smiled back, briefly dropping the disinterested frown that seemed at home on her face whenever friendship dramatics unfolded. Which was more often than Neil would like to admit.

Apparently, a penchant for drama was a contagious trait. Sadly.

“What? I gotta ask the important questions” the lack of remorse on Ives’ face told Neil all he needed to know about the situation.

There was either option a – leaving the room as he stood, without a further word or a gesture, aware that he would be cornered by his dear friend shortly. There was also option b – answering the question in the vaguest way possible and hopefully buying himself time and necessary peace.

Was it really a choice? Sighing heavily, Neil strengthened his back and met the awaiting blue gaze with what he hoped to be confidence.

“Very good. Might I say euphorically good,” he could feel the smirk make home on his face as memories followed the words, offering a gratifying reel of moments he was sure he could never forget. It never failed to make him grin like an idiot and consider doing something reckless like calling Cupid and asking her out. As a friend, that is. A friend you wanted to have sex with again. Instead, he allowed himself to soften the voice and add, “She’s… incredible” it was a severe understatement, but then the present company was not worth hearing peans he could bestow upon her.

Those words were meant for her ears only. And yes, he knew how it sounded. How it pointed towards things Neil was not admitting, not even to himself. But that, too, was best ignored. Forever.

Before Neil could find the necessary words to follow the admission and, hopefully, exit the conversation altogether, the door creaked. All three pairs of eyes snapped towards it, displaying different stages of shock and bewilderment.

Neil watched as The Protagonist stepped inside, the dynamic of his movements stopping on the threshold as the man took in the scene presented before him. Cocking an eyebrow in a silent question, the older man closed the door behind his back and regarded them coolly.

“Uh oh,” the phrase, offered casually, without a dose of interest or intrigue, was accompanied by another taxing look.

Worryingly, it was focused on Neil only. The dark eyes of his best friend (and boss) scanned him from head to toe, undoubtedly clocking everything he hoped to conceal. Stifling the sudden urge to drown himself in the cup of lukewarm coffee someone abandoned on the table hours before, Neil sagged on the sofa. That was not going to be fun.

“Uh oh, indeed” even without looking at him, Neil could tell Ives was smirking.

Feeling the three pairs of eyes focus on him again, he groaned.

He was completely and utterly fucked, it seemed.

***

Usually, Friday evenings in the pub were not associated with anxious thoughts or fidgeting hands, interchangeably tugging and relaxing the chain clasped around your neck. But that was not a usual Friday night, and no amount of mental coaching could change that fact or convince you to stop worrying. No, the nerves seemed ingrained in the fabric of your soul as you exited the Leicester Square station and rushed through the streets of Chinatown, rapidly filling with people. You swallowed past the overwhelming onslaught of worries and pushed onwards, only briefly stopping underneath the red lanterns to double-check the location and whether you were still on the course.

When Neil sent you the address earlier that day, you admitted that the choice of locale was greatly appreciated. That was your hunting ground so to speak. The streets, where you felt most at home, with the bright lights proceeding your steps and the bustle of the city filling your heart. But even the comfort of the familiar environment did not eradicate the fears. The millions of what-ifs swirling around in your head all pointing out that one crucial fact – there was no guarantee that his friends would like you. None at all.

And the alternative was too terrifying to consider. Admittedly, this was not a place you visited often. Not a predicament you knew too well. Because, usually, you could not care less. Did not give a flying fuck about whether someone liked you or even accepted you because if they did not – well, their loss. But those life rules did not seem applicable this time. Not when the stakes suddenly seemed higher than gaining a stranger’s sympathy. Even though you could hardly explain what the alternatives were and why they scared you quite so much.

Glancing up from the phone screen, you double-checked the pub name with the address typed into the search bar and closed the app. Pocketing the device, you crossed the street and stopped just before the doorway. The bar was half-full, the music not quite booming yet filling the interior with cosiness and warmth that beckoned you inside, sparking the courage that began to flicker in your heart. As if sensing your moment of indecision, your phone buzzed. A single text from Neil appeared on the screen:

/✝️, 8:03 pm/ I’m here if you’re early.

Despite the nerves, you grinned. A ridiculous giggle escaped your throat as you pushed the door and entered the pub. That was a sign if you ever saw one. The contrasting warmth seeped into your bones as you unzipped the jacket and manoeuvred around the tables to the room in the back. This part of the bar was empty, save for a larger table in the corner. As soon as you entered the space, Neil raised his head and met your gaze with a bright smile. It was impossible not to grin back, taking in the warm light reflecting in his golden hair and the undone top buttons of his navy shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Even now, after everything, the sight never failed to make your pulse quicken, revealing the truth you could not ignore. That you wanted him. Still.

Probably more so now that you knew what it was like to have him.

That reminder alone was a reason to push all thoughts to the back of your mind and close the remaining gap in three steps. Shooting him an overly confident grin as a greeting, you drew back the chair opposite Neil’s and took off your jacket, draping the covering over the backrest and sitting down without as much as a word. If Neil noticed the unusual silence, he did not show it, instead following your every move with curiosity in his eyes. Once you were settled and allowed yourself to rest your gaze on him, Neil’s smile softened into something fragile. Something kinder than you were used to. You basked in the warmth of his expression as he broke the silence:

“I’m glad you came” that same affection tinted the simple sentiment, quieting the nerves in your head, even if only for a second.

For whatever reason, the fears seemed worth it if that was the reaction you earned by going through the pains of what was coming. It was shining in the blue of his eyes, luring you in like a spell. Without thinking about it, you darted a hand forward and quickly patted his hands, folded atop the table. The corner of his mouth twitched, clearly noticing your gesture. It was a nice feeling to be seen like that, appreciated for every tiny thing you did or said.

“Well, I promised, didn’t I?” the awkwardness slipped out alongside a weak chuckle you attempted, hoping to balance out the sudden pull towards seriousness in this conversation. You weren’t supposed to be serious, “When are-” the question, the only one you could think of suddenly, got cut short by Neil’s answer.

“In about ten minutes. They might be late, though” he glanced at the watch, almost in an afterthought.

Unashamedly, you let out a long sigh, feeling weariness fade for a short while. Ten minutes seemed like an apt time to settle. Or at least enjoy what you have right here and now. What you feared to lose more than you could admit.

Where was courage when one needed it desperately?

“Cool…” your knuckles rapped against the table, hoping to find the bravery in the rhythmless sound, but to no avail. You looked up, instantly caught in Neil’s blue gaze, staring back at you intently. As always. As if there was anything of interest that he could find only on your face, “Can I ask you something?” there was no way of getting rid of the tremors in your voice.

“Always,” Neil nodded, generous enough to spare you the suspense.

Taking a deep breath, you raised your head once more, plunging into the deep end:

“Are we still going to be friends if they hate me?” with no right way for a question like this to come out, you still cringed, wincing as soon as the words left your mouth.

Clingy. Pathetic. So unlike what you thought you knew about yourself. And yet. Because that was the crux of the issue. This deeply rooted fear that Neil’s presence in your life could disappear suddenly without a warning or a reason. A fear you did not understand or experienced before. It was terrifying.

Before your brain could unleash the ramblings, erasing any evidence of the question ever having been asked, you felt Neil’s hand gently cover yours. Despite knowing better, you looked up in time to see another soft smile grace his beautiful features. It mellowed the sharpness of the angles and eased the pain of looking at him.

A pain you were gladly braving every day if it meant you could keep on staring at him. With no desire to understand what that said about you.

“Obviously,” the lack of hesitation on Neil’s part bolstered the faint hope in your soul. It only got stronger as you saw him search your gaze with intent before Neil squeezed your hands and added, “Although I can assure you that they won’t hate you” the lack of judgement in his eyes seemed almost out of place.

A stupid question like that was bound to be judged and ridiculed. Surely. Except Neil did not seem to think so. The realisation made you feel lightheaded. It made no sense in the world order you knew.

You shook your head against the confusion and flipped the hand lying on the table so you could entangle your fingers with his. The softness of his palm moulded to yours as you arched an eyebrow, your face still a picture-perfect of calm:

“How can you be so sure, sunshine?” it was not in your nature to accept reassurance without trying to undermine it. You could tell Neil knew as much. It was there in the utter lack of surprise in his gaze as you prodded, his hand a comforting weight in yours. It helped you take a deep breath and confess what usually remained unsaid, “I know I’m… a lot” your eyes fluttered shut upon the unprecedented display of honesty.

You knew it was true, a fact many thought and no one admitted out loud. Except maybe when they stopped talking to you, leaving you behind without an explanation or an apology. That is when you easily concluded that it has happened again. You were too much. Too much to handle without being enough. Took up too much space without having anything substantial to say or do with it. Asked for too much despite not being worth even an ounce of it. Yeah, that.

It was always like that. So why would it be different this time?

Although you could feel Neil’s piercing gaze on your face, you did not dare look up. Instead, you tightened the hold over his hand and let your thumb brush his skin. The repetitiveness of the caress anchored you in the present. Sometimes, when you were brave enough to contemplate the reality, you marvelled at how easy it was to be like this with him. How you could touch Neil so effortlessly, without worrying about how it would be interpreted or what he could ask for in return.

“You contain multitudes. In the best way,” the affection in his voice made you push against the ridiculous thoughts and look up, even if only to see that same softness reflected in his eyes, “And I’m sure because I can’t imagine meeting you and not being absolutely enchanted, Cupid” squeezing your hand again, he raised your joined palms to lay a kiss on your knuckles.

By now, the move should have been something you were used to. But it wasn’t. It still made you blush, hiding the effects by dropping his gaze and focusing on the table. The warmth his words sparked in your chest simmered with a pleasant heat, almost eradicating every other thought and feeling. Until all that remained was Neil and his steadfast fondness, focused on you. For whatever reason.

It did not take your brain too long to realise the dangers of that line of reasoning, jumping into deflection before any other wayward thought could appear. Raising your head in time for Neil to see a performative eye roll, you replied:

“Christ, you’re really bad for my ego” it was not a lie, and you knew Neil could tell as much from how his mouth twitched.

Still, your hand stayed in his hold, too used to the contact to think about letting go. At least for a little longer.

“Ditto, babe” Neil’s smile widened into a bright grin as he shot you a wink, dropping the new nickname without hesitation.

Almost as if he hoped you would not notice. Wishful thinking and all. The discovery of his slip-up was enough to awaken you, giving your brain something to grasp. A distraction. A way to come back to who you were supposed to be.

Your eyes flashed, a familiar flicker of confidence and control making it easy to hold his gaze. To notice the uncertainty within the blue depths, spurring you on. Before Neil could even think about taking it back, you leaned in, invading his space and getting a whiff of his perfume. Like an addict getting a hit of their drug of choice. Stopping close enough to kiss him if you chose to, you let your nose brush against his in a light caress and whispered a taunting question:

“Ooh, it’s babe now, is it?” the thrill of being this close to him never got old.

It was strengthened by the awed look in his eyes, confirming the suspicions that you finally had the upper hand. Neil looked stunned, blinking rapidly against your proximity and the bold attack you dared execute. You stared as he came to, the hand holding yours twitched and Neil dropped his gaze, overcame with strange bashfulness.

“If you want it to be,” the murmured reply was coloured with sincerity.

Both an admission and a question, opening the floor for your next move. Swallowing past the pause, you opened your mouth to answer before a loud wolf whistle cut through the tension, making you spring back as if burned. Neil dropped your hand, his gaze instantly switching to the doorway. It did not take a genius to figure out that your time has just run out, and the company has arrived.

Fixing a curious smile onto your face, you turned in the chair, your eyes instantly drawn by the arriving group. The reason for your shocking awakening - a tall, muscled man with a buzzcut and a thick beard was the first to enter. His startling blue eyes met yours as his lips twisted into a smug smirk. He glanced at Neil, some silent understanding passing through his gaze before he asked:

“Are we interrupting something?” the unmistakable Cockney accent in his voice made you grin.

The cheekiness of this stranger was something you felt almost at home with. It was something you knew, the familiarity of it quietening the rapid heartbeat in your chest. Somewhat reluctantly, you shifted your eyes to fall on the second person to enter the room. The short woman, her hair twisted into a tight bun (not unlike what you often sported on stage), met your curious stare with one of her own. The last to enter was a tall, Black man. His presence already emitted confidence and charisma that you could not understand. As soon as his eyes met yours, the man smiled – a light, reassuring expression that transformed his face into something kind and open. With a sigh, you twisted back in the chair and closed your eyes briefly.

They did not seem scary… At least not terribly so.

“Not at all,” you only half registered Neil’s hurried response, noticing him rise from the table and gesture towards you with all the awkwardness of someone unable to play it cool. Despite yourself, you smiled at the realisation, “So, this is-” he never got to introduce you, for the sentence got cut short with another boisterous interruption.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” the bearded man approached the table, his wide grin unfading in the face of your bewilderment.

The remaining duo joined him on either side, all three pairs of eyes focused on you without a dose of apprehension. While the scrutiny was something you expected (and were partially used to), it still made you falter. Tightening your shaky hands into fists at your sides, you rose from the chair and faced them with a matching bright grin. By now, the act was almost too easy to take on - no matter the circumstances.

“It is I, indeed” completing the admission with a theatrical courtesy, you extended your palm towards the woman with what seemed like a safe greeting, “Nice to meet you” she met your handshake without hesitation.

The first handshake was followed by a round of introductions and greetings, easing that early discomfort of not knowing people’s names. Through the few minutes, Neil stayed quiet, observing you with an intensity you were slowly getting used to. You did not understand it, but it was almost comforting in its constant presence. Only once you were acquainted, you sat back in the chair. Conscious of the new company, you shifted in the seat and folded your hands atop the table, resisting the urge to meet Neil’s gaze as it bore holes into your head from over the tabletop. Before you could even think of anything to say, Ives broke the silence with what you came to understand as his modus operandi:

“Mate, I must say-” the cheekiness permeated every syllable as the man stared between you and Neil with a wide grin.

Curiosity sparked in your chest as you watched the interaction. The blind panic in Neil’s eyes completed the picture as he leapt from the chair and grabbed the sleeve of Ives’ jacket to pull him up.

“It’s best if you don’t,” the warning in his voice was something new.

Something fascinating, too. Something that you had a feeling you would be repeating in the quiet of your mind later. Later, when you were alone.

Now however, you stared as Neil completed the silent exchange with Ives and informed you all that it was time to get drinks. You got as far as telling him the order of choice for the night before the uncertainty caught up again. With Neil and Ives gone from the table, only two pairs of eyes were trained on you. A small mercy, indeed.

Ignoring the urge to flee the scene, you tried to settle in the seat and raised your gaze to meet the dark stare of the man who introduced himself as John. For some reason, his serious countenance inspired trust, making it a little easier to breathe out. The woman, Wheeler, was more intimidating, although you could not explain why if asked. It was not even that she seemed mean or judgemental, but rather that it was difficult to get a reading on her that you feared what she could be thinking.

Before you had a chance to spiral in that direction, yet again failing under the scrutiny of near strangers, John broke the silence with a question:

“So, how did you meet again?” the curiosity was undeniable in his voice, his eyes watchfully trained on yours.

Almost as if it was a test. Luckily, you knew the answers this time.

“On the tube. Neil was gallant enough to help when I dropped half the contents of my handbag on the floor” a fond smile appeared uninvited on your face, forcing you to drop his gaze and stare at the table instead. That did not go unnoticed. You could still feel their interest, like a constant weight upon your shoulders. It would take much more than this to shake it off, “I wasn’t leaving him alone after that” shrugging, you risked a tentative smile and a glance at your companions.

Judgement was still missing from the picture. Instead, the inquisitive light in Wheeler’s eyes turned into something sharper. For a split second, you felt perceived as if she could see through the bullshit smiles and nonchalant shrugs that made up your protective armour. As if she could peer inside the parts of your mind you did not acknowledge for fear of what you would find there.

Before you could let the simmering panic reap its fruits, John replied:

“And a good thing, too, because he shouldn’t be left unsupervised for too long” the humour in his voice acted like a needed respite, pulling you back from the blooming spiral and into the present.

Despite yourself, you grinned. A startled chuckle escaped your lips, confirming what you knew to be true. That, despite the doubts and perhaps an unconventional run of your friendship, you knew Neil. You understood him.

Enough to know that he should never be left to his own devices for too long.

“I’ve noticed,” a secretive smile shared between the three of you felt almost like an inside joke.

The feeling was strengthened when you heard Neil and Ives return from the bar, their banter audible even from beyond the doorway. You waited until the duo settled at the table again, the ordered drink placed in front of you with a smile, before adding, “Now I’m also forcing ballet education onto him,” winking at Neil to both tease him and draw him back to the conversation, you took a fortifying sip of the alcohol.

Not that liquid courage was needed. Of course.

“Which I don’t mind at all” Neil’s responding grin was worth any possible pain. Its warmth filled you from the inside with a mild bloom of affection, making it that much easier to let go of the remaining fears, “I’ll have to drag you with me someday. You’ll see how amazing she is,” directing the sentence at his friends, Neil took a sip of the pint and stared back as if to challenge your wordless wonder.

Even now, the constant praise was difficult to absorb. How could anyone be this nice and not expect anything in return? You did not know.

“There’ll be no dragging necessary. I’d go willingly” despite the apprehension, the first sentence Wheeler spoke to you was filled with enough friendliness you instantly felt bad for doubting her nature. She offered you a sure smile, the sparks of interest clear in her green gaze, “How long have you been dancing?”

Now that was a question you knew the answer to. Without daring to doubt the sincerity of their investment in your story, you dove into the tale. It twisted through the prodding and the questions, reminding you how much you relished being the object of genuine interest. How nice it was to share stories and have others listen instead of ignoring you or cutting short that which you dared feel passionate about.

Only once your tale found its conclusion in the current day and age, daring to share the hopes for the future, did the nerves resurface. You drowned them in another sip of the drink and chose to ask the question that never strayed too far from your mind these days:

“And you guys? What do you do for work?” admittedly, it was not the smoothest move on your part.

The eagerness shone through each word as you rested your chin on your hand and ignored Neil’s gaze. Perhaps tonight was the lucky one…

“We- You haven’t told her?” as soon as the hope began to build, making you lean forward in anticipation, Ives clearly remembered his surroundings, silencing his own reply with a question directed at Neil.

One glance at the man in question showed you the depths of panic, making you step in. Just in case.

“He hasn’t,” hoping the reassurance in your voice would be enough for them to believe you, you added, tone dropping to that teasing timbre Neil knew well enough, “Which has led to some rather… fascinating conversations” whether mentioning the many inside jokes was a good idea, you did not know.

But it was already done. The reveal did what you needed it to as you watched with interest the many emotions passing through their faces. Brief bewilderment was there, alongside confusion and boundless curiosity. But, perhaps most importantly of all, you could see respect. Hidden behind layers of thoughts and questions, but it was there. You earned it.

And through no other means than being yourself. Little victories have never felt more genuine.

“Such as?” Ives was the first to speak, prodding and teasing, his gaze filled with that familiar cheeky gleam, “Don’t leave us hanging, sweetheart” the nickname rolled off his tongue with ease, which seemed surprising to everyone but the man himself.

You did not mind. Stealing another glance at Neil, if only to check whether he still seemed somewhat alright with the conversation (barely), you allowed your mouth to twist into a telling grin:

“Wouldn’t dream of it” by now, Neil must have known what that smile meant.

The expectation was confirmed by his long-suffering sigh, interjected with a curse and a groan, sounding almost like a plea for heavenly intervention.

That is, if God, the Holy Spirit, or anyone else fancied being cursed while asked for help.

“Jesus fucking-” cutting himself short with another sigh, Neil covered his face with his hands, almost as if unwilling to take part in what would follow.

Still, you could see the remains of a fond smile hiding in the corner of his mouth. That discovery was enough to get rid of any traces of uncertainty. You leaned over the table and dropped your voice to a conspiratory whisper:

“My personal favourite is that Neil is a priest. He’s got the charisma, and I’m pretty sure those dashing looks would help to convert non-believers” admittedly, you were proud of delivering the line with a straight face.

Even more so when, after approximately five seconds, you had the desired reaction of three people dissolving into different stages of laughter at your whim. Despite yourself, you met Neil’s gaze, only to find him beaming with traces of good-natured annoyance in the gleam in his eyes. Wordlessly, you arched an eyebrow, seeking approval. Always eager to be praised for something you felt you deserved. His smile only widened as Neil sneaked a hand beneath the table and briefly squeezed your knee.

That just about did it when it came to praise.

Enough so that when a reply came from your unexpected audience, you were caught unaware by the tone and the knowing smirk present on Ives’ face as he asked:

“Speaking from experience?” startled, you looked up in time to see his confident grin, pointing towards a thought you had not entertained before.

They knew. At some point between the previous Friday night and today, Neil told them what had happened. He has perhaps shared it all, and now you were not only regarded as a strange woman he has befriended on the London Underground but also as someone he had sex with. A lover, if you dared label things. Although obvious a realisation, it was still somewhat unexpected, making your hands twitch as you slipped back on the mask of utter nonchalance. There was no point in pretending now.

“Absolutely” without batting an eyelid, you met Ives’ relentless smirk with an innocent smile of your own, choosing to take back control of the conversations as much as it was possible, “So, whatever parish you belong to, I might want an invitation” concluding the story with a telling wink, you picked up the glass and took a long sip, relishing in the slight burn of alcohol down your throat.

The sensation was enough to distract you from the strange thoughts, inspiring you to give in to the constant pull and meet Neil’s gaze over the table. He was already staring back, his mouth quirked into a soft smile. It was impossible to discern what it meant.

“We’ll come back to this conversation. If that’s okay,” John’s serious voice broke you out of the daydream, making you look up at him with surprise clear on your face.

That same air of authority you noticed the first time you had laid your eyes upon him was even more visible now that you got to talk. Without being able to explain it, you felt like he was the person most in charge out of the whole quartet. The one calling the shots. If anything, the comment enforced the idea, making you drop the playfulness for a split second to offer him a nod:

“Perfectly,” if only to ensure you had not accidentally ended up on the shit list for being too nosy, you added, “Mind you, I’m not holding a grudge. It’s just curiosity,” and it was, just that. The pure desire to know all there was to know about Neil. To piece apart his entire being and analyse it as one does when having encountered something so fascinating they could not walk past it. Yeah, just that. Shaking your head to erase unwanted thoughts, you chose to fall back on what was pleasantly familiar – letting your mouth do the talking without consulting the head on whether it was wise, “Although now that I’ve met you all, I think that perhaps it’s my other guess that makes more sense” letting the sentence trail off to a meaningful pause was an easy fate.

It was something you knew how to do. Entertain. Entrance. Fascinate. All to draw that fleeting attention, which would not solve anything except making you believe you were worth someone’s time. For a short while.

It worked this time, as always. All four pairs of eyes trained on you with curiosity. Ives was the first to break the silence, giving you what you had been waiting for:

“Which is?” arching an eyebrow, he leaned over the table, mirroring your position.

A flash of exhilaration passed through your soul, alighting that which usually laid dormant. Without meaning to, you met Neil’s gaze again, copying the cheeky smile before offering an answer:

“That you’re all in MI6” if not for the distraction in the form of his blue eyes, you were sure you would have clocked in the reactions, or rather the alarming lack of them, sooner. You blinked against the intoxicating pull of him, barely registering the silence from your companions, and found the bravery to add that which was meant for Neil only, “I mean, you could definitely pull off James Bond,” acutely aware of the audience, you tightened your hands into fists in your lap to prevent yourself from reaching out, signing off the statement with a wink.

That, too, hit the mark. You watched with delight as Neil blushed, the pink hue blooming on his cheekbones as he dropped your gaze and downed the rest of his beer. A gleeful chuckle was unavoidable as you finally gathered enough coherence to glance at the remaining companions. The mix of joy, consternation and pensiveness was something to behold, arresting your attention and sparking interest. What could it possibly mean? Questions began multiplying in your brain as you stared, particularly drawn to the exact expression on John’s face. It resembled quiet resolve as if he had just made up his mind about something and would not be persuaded to change it no matter the circumstances.

You had a feeling that you were not an exception to that rule.

“Cupid-” whatever Neil aimed to say got interrupted before you could focus your eyes back on him.

Still, the nickname resounded at the table with an extra impact, perhaps because it was the first time he had used it with the current company present. Despite wishing to remain blind to little details, you took note of the flash of interest in Wheeler’s eyes as her eyes flitted between the two of you. Thinking. You itched to ask what about but also feared the answer. Before you could even gather your thoughts enough to understand the intricacies of the situation, John got up from the chair, pulling Neil alongside him with a tight grip on his shoulder.

“C’mon. Let’s get second round” his tone left no room for discussion as he directed a pointed look at Ives and started for the bar without another word.

You stared as the two men scrambled after him, clearly taken aback by the sudden command. Now, curiosity was an understatement. It bloomed in your chest as you stared at Wheeler, silently begging for answers before you found any words to express an ounce of the confusion:

“What did just-” whatever question you had aimed to ask, you never got the chance as she interrupted you smoothly with a sleight of hand.

“Pay them no mind” that was not a suggestion, either. The order was visible in the focused gaze Wheeler placed on you, its weight quickly becoming bothersome, making you shift in the seat. Soon, you knew it was for a good reason, “Neil really likes you,” there was no question in the statement.

No chance for you to deny the claim. It wasn’t a false claim, either. You knew as much without needing to think about it. He liked you. It was there in every fond look, every tender touch, every affectionate word. And you knew that it was something you were guilty of as well. There was no point in pretending otherwise.

Ignoring the ever-present desire to run away, you strengthened your spine and met her searching gaze with honesty on your face:

“I know. I like him too. Never expected to meet a best friend on the Jubilee line, but well…” shrugging to shake off the remaining worries at your sincerity, you offered her a careful smile.

As soon as the words left your mouth, you understood their importance. You had never admitted it out loud. That this was a first. The first time you voiced what was long established in your mind and heart. What happened before you were aware. Before you could stop it. Was that another mistake? You did not dare answer that question.

Instead, you dropped Wheeler’s gaze and trained your eyes on the table, fingers idly tracing the grains in the dark wood. You knew the conversation was not over now that she had you alone and clearly unable to keep quiet. You did not have to wait long for another hit.

“He told us about what happened after the ballet last week” the judgment was still missing from the equation, no matter how hard you looked for it.

With your suspicions confirmed, there was no point in trying to pretend. No point in acting as if what she believed was untrue. That, too, was a fact. An undeniable truth, memorable and unforgettable.

After a beat, you braved the intensity of her gaze, feeling something else underneath the simple observation. Wheeler hardly seemed like a person to say things without there being a point to them. This time was not any different. The green of her eyes told you she was curious, eager to learn your side of things, but at the same time, she seemed almost wary. Concerned in ways that did not make much sense except for maybe…

“And you’re against it?” the question burst out from your lips before you knew you had formulated it. There was an edge to it that you immediately regretted but did not take back just yet. Not before adding essential information that could sway her. Why it mattered, you did not know, “I must assure you that Neil is in control. I offered to keep this strictly platonic. He’s yet to give me an answer,” the words rushed out with barely a pause in between as if you were on borrowed time.

Perhaps you did not want the company to return before you could wrap up this conversation. Perhaps it felt like if you do as much as hesitate in your answers, you will never get the words out again. And that would not do.

Wheeler only finished her drink in the face of your frenzied confession and took another moment to stare at you calmly before answering:

“I’m not against it, just worried. Neil is a genius, but he’s also a fool. And a romantic, at that,” the tired resignation in her tone provoked a careful smile to appear on your face despite the blooming worry springing alongside it.

It was something you feared, albeit without ever entertaining the thought consciously. His friends had every right to be worried. In fact, you were happy to see someone else care about Neil the way he deserved to be cared for. Intensely. But it was another thing to be seen as a potential threat towards his happiness. Someone to be cautious of. Someone who could hurt Neil. Someone you desperately wanted never to become.

“The worst combo,” ignoring the spiral which had just begun to take root in your mind, you quipped.

The force of the jest got lost somewhere between your head and mouth, lining the words with nerves and uncertainty. It still got a reaction you hoped to achieve as Wheeler’s face broke into a tentative smile.

“Isn’t it just?” her eyes met yours with hints of good-natured delight in the green irises, almost making you feel better about what followed. As soon as she sobered up, you could feel your chest seize painfully, the fear sinking its cold fingers into the fabric of your soul, “The point is that I hope you don’t hurt him. No matter what ends up happening between you” the intent was clear in her gaze.

As was the message. Should you hurt Neil, there would be consequences. Simple. Infinitely more effective than an outright threat.

Somehow, you did not need to search your soul to understand the fear beginning to shape there. You were not scared of what Wheeler or the other would do to you if you hurt Neil. No, it was something much more terrifying. It was the pure horror of knowing that, realistically, you could break his heart. Even if that were the last thing you would want to do. Even if you would never choose to do so. The ability was there. And that was enough.

Swallowing past the desire to flee, you forced yourself to meet her gaze and offer an answer as close to the truth as you could manage. As close as you hoped to be.

“I’ll do my best” you could tell your mouth trembled as you tried to form it into a reassuring smile, but still, you wished for it to be enough.

Because there was nothing better that you could offer. You stared as Wheeler processed your reply, her watchful gaze peering right into the fabric of your soul. It felt like an eternity before she nodded once, ending the conversation with decisiveness. A tired sigh escaped your throat as you sunk lower in the chair. You knew that it would haunt you for days to come.

In the background, you could hear the approaching voices of the rest of your party. The noise sobered you, helping to push against the melancholy and paste on a mischievous smirk. With the mask back in place, you knew you could survive the rest of the evening. Somehow.

***

By the time you had left the pub, the warmth of Neil’s hand on the small of your back guiding you outside, it was late, and your cheeks hurt from smiling. That pleasant tiredness that often came from spending too much time with people, forced to be someone you were never sure you understood, burned through your muscles, leaving you slightly dizzy. But that might have also been the alcohol. Or Neil’s loose handhold, dragging you towards the underground station.

You were not quite sure when it had been decided that you would come back together, only that the conversation involved something with Jubilee Line name-drop and Ives’ boisterous laughter. And a knowing gleam in his eyes that you did not enjoy. Still, as Neil patiently led you down the streets of Soho and towards Leicester Square, you did not mind the result. It gave you more time with him. More time to talk and less time to think about what the eventful evening brought up. About the fears festering in your heart.

Still, the comfortable silence was broken only once you were seated in the carriage, Neil’s thigh pressed against yours on the narrow plastic seats. His hands folded in his lap, tempting you with a comforting touch just a move away. If you dared be bold.

“So… what’s the verdict?” Neil’s question acted like the needed wake-up, pulling from the depths of confusing thoughts and confounding feelings.

It was harmless, instantly drawing your smile from its hiding place. One glance at Neil told you that was the intent, with the affectionate look in his eyes, studying your face. Sometimes, you wondered whether there would ever come a time when you were brave enough to ask what he was thinking about when he stared at you like that. What it meant, if anything at all. Today, you could only return his look and offer a grin as a prologue to your reply:

“They’re insane people” your smile widened as you watched Neil bark out a startled laugh. It was a beautiful sound, making you bask in the glow of those unexpected joys. It was that spark of happiness that made you add, “Just like you,” leaning into his personal space, you gave his shoulder a nudge, this once hoping that the fondness could be seen in your eyes.

You wanted him to notice, to know that the teasing came from no other place but that of affection. That, as you confessed to Wheeler, Neil was important. Probably your best friend. An honourable mantle not many could admit to having possessed. In the entire history of your life.

Neil’s gaze softened as he returned the playful nudge and bumped his nose into yours, drawing a startled gasp from your throat. Proximity tended to do that to you.

“I’d say something about pots and kettles, but-” the warmth in his voice made you wake up from the strange thoughts as you grinned, rolling your eyes at the jest barely disguised behind the good-natured tease.

The sentiment still filled your heart with a contented type of joy, casting the previous anxieties back to the shadows where they lurked. For now, they were not needed. Now, all that mattered was turning your body fully towards Neil and blocking everything except for his beautiful smile and striking blue eyes.

“I own my insanity, thank you very much” feigning nonchalance, you shot him an unimpressed smile before dropping the pretence to offer sincerity. As he deserved, “I like them. They seem fun to be around, and I’d love to meet them again” you met his serious gaze with a wavering smile, feeling it shake beneath the uncertainty that loitered at the edges of your consciousness. Despite the wishes to do so, you did not seem capable of shaking off the anxiety tonight. The addition needed to be said, if only for your sanity, “That is if they don’t hate me” what started loud and confident was finished in a murmur, half-whispered at the dirty carriage floor.

Sudden losses of confidence were something you were not used to, yet getting more accustomed to by the day. At some point, unknowingly to you, along with the trust in the realness of whatever you and Neil had, that old, blind self-assurance dwindled. It was still there but wounded and unable to return to what it was. And you had no idea why that could be except for the terrifying thought that the simple reality of being perceived was enough to tear at your foundations.

You felt Neil’s careful touch, his fingers tipping up your chin, so you had no choice but to meet his reassuring gaze. The pads of his fingers lightly brushed the skin of your neck, kindling the fire that always burned underneath your skin in his presence. You barely resisted the urge to close your eyes and lean into the feeling, forgetting about the conversation and everything else.

“No chance, sweetheart” perhaps the confidence you had been missing could be found in Neil’s smile, shining at you like a beacon of benediction. Or at least it felt like sometimes, especially in the haziness of the late hours and fluorescent lights. Now, as if sensing your uncertainty, Neil covered your hands with his and squeezed them reassuringly, “I’m yet to get professional feedback, but I believe they liked you very much” risking a peek, you met his gaze only to find nothing but affection there, its intensity making you feel lightheaded. No matter the amount of practice, you did not seem capable of getting used to it. Not at all, “Not as much as me, though” when the conclusion to his speech finally arrived, you needed another long moment to process it.

Another beat still to find an opportunity within it. It presented a whole myriad, an easy way out of the conversation that would no longer feel so awfully revealing. A chance for you to reclaim the bravado that so often served as a shield. A protective veil to hide behind until you would be brave enough to face the truth. You were not going to let it pass you by.

Without wasting another second, you presented Neil with a familiar grin as his hand dropped from your chin. You instantly mourned the loss, although you did not let it show.

“Yeah, I’d hope not. I’m not sure I’d be into threesomes” the delivery of the line seemed almost impeccable, making you preen at the instant reaction on Neil’s face in the form of his utter bewilderment. He blinked as if stuck with an exceptionally persistent thought, as a pink hue spread over his cheeks, widening your grin. As always, the instant gratification hit like the finest of drugs, getting right to your head, “Might get too possessive,” the addition, covertly whispered into his ear despite the empty carriage, only strengthened the effect as Neil sputtered, choking on his saliva.

Moments like this were why you knew you were already beyond the hope of saving. There was no going back from this. No chance of forgetting Neil and moving on with your life as if none of this ever happened. Sometimes, when you were brave enough to be honest with yourself, you admitted that you did not want to forget, even if you could.

“Helpful feedback” seemingly recovered from his moment, Neil shot you a glare, barely hiding the happiness visible in his gaze.

Teasing him was always the highlight of every meeting, giving you a chance to practice what you knew you were good at, with the additional advantage of an audience hanging upon each word. Briefly, you wondered whether having an active listener at your beck and call was good for your ego. Decidedly not, but the damage was already done.

“At your service” instead of entertaining the ridiculous thoughts, you mimed a low bow in his direction and squeezed his knee instead of pressing another presumptuous kiss to his cheek. Those would have to be held back until the next time you saw him. Just to be safe.

You met his intense, unwavering gaze just in time to see Neil sober up. His permanent smile faded as he shifted in the seat, almost as if steeling himself for something. Before you could open your mouth to ask, he broke the silence again:

“I have an answer for you” the initial confusion at the opener disappeared as soon as you noticed the uncertainty in his gaze. That sudden shyness you were slowly becoming accustomed to replaced the previous bravery as Neil took a fortifying breath and sighed out the promised answer, “Yes,” there was nothing else to it.

Just one word changing the course of your relationship without a hitch or hesitancy. The suddenness was the only thing that surprised you, with the brain half convinced Neil would need weeks to decide instead of just six days. Still, the uncertainty in his face must have been contagious, for you felt it spread across your soul, eradicating any other feeling or thought. There was no space for joy or excitement at what this course of events would mean for you. There was only doubt.

Whether Neil knew what he was saying. Whether he understood what it meant. Whether he was not making the mistake, Wheeler worried he was capable of. Whether you had the right to ask him in the first place.

Painfully aware of Neil’s attention, you forced your rapid heartbeat to slow down and voiced the only question that felt worth asking:

“Yes?” perhaps it was superfluous, just another second wasted on confirming what was already done and dusted.

Perhaps it spoke volumes about the person you wanted to be – thoughtful, patient, selfless – instead of the one you knew you were. Perhaps it was just another thing you could blame on the alcohol in your system. None of the reasons mattered as soon as Neil’s sombre countenance broke into another sunny smile. His hand came up to hold yours as if without a conscious thought. You settled in the feeling to find the necessary grounding.

“Yes. Because I don’t think I’m capable of keeping hands to myself when I’m with you” although the comment was anything but soft and affectionate, Neil’s hold told another story.

You stared as his thumb traced an invisible path over your knuckles. Over and over again. Until it was a sensation you could anchor within, taking a deep breath to find your footing once more. It would be alright. It had to.

“That’s flattering” despite the numerous buts and ifs whirling in your head, you met Neil’s searching gaze with a semi-confident smile.

You meant it. That much was certain. Because doubts and worries aside, all that mattered was simple: Neil wanted you. Enough so to try something new. Enough so not to choose between your friendship and the intimacy you could have alongside it. Enough so you didn’t have to decide for him instead.

As if reading your mind, Neil turned towards you and tightened the hold over your hand. Without breaking the eye contact, he raised your joined hands to his lips and pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles, repeating a move already so familiar, yet still somehow unexpected. The breath hitched in your chest as he leaned forward, his other hand cupping your cheek and the thumb carefully brushing over your blushing skin. Quickly, you became incapable of doing anything but stare, awaiting his next move.

Neil’s gaze roamed over your face, as always drawn to your eyes only to glance at your parted lips and get stuck there. Quirking your mouth into a smile, you barely had the mind to find an appropriate quip before Neil wiped the intent clear with one swipe of his thumb. You gasped as you felt his finger trace the contour of your lips, the lipstick applied just before exiting the pub still relatively intact. He seemed to contemplate the next step as his blue eyes flicked to yours, searching for something. Whatever it was, Neil must have found it, for the next thing you registered was a decisive touch of the offending finger, swiping over your lower lip to smudge the lipstick and smear it over the corner of your mouth. Another embarrassing sigh was unavoidable as you glanced up in time to see the hunger in his eyes. As is for the past week, he has been holding himself back just as much as you did. As if this was to be your new normal. The thought alone was enough to make you shiver.

“Even tonight, I thought about dragging you with me to the bathroom and…” the confession was whispered in the meagre space between your faces, Neil’s voice taking on the tone you already knew yet had not heard a while.

The low, husky notes reverberated through your veins, erasing any uncertainties you could have had. None of that mattered. You had Neil to do as you pleased, and he had you. For however long it would last. For however long it would be mutually beneficial. Of course.

Now, with the promise of what could be placed so openly in front of you, you did not want to waste a second longer. Time was precious enough. Ignoring the pounding in your heart and the way Neil’s fingers slipped down the slope of your throat to loosely rest over your collarbone, you decimated the space to nothing but millimetres and whispered:

“Next time, you can just ask” upon his silent question, you nodded, confirming what you hoped would be evident enough, “I’d let you” curling your fingers around his hand touching your collarbone, you pressed your joined hands over your heart and closed the gap to leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

The resistance from claiming his lips was running thinner by the minute. But, as with most things, you needed Neil to take that step. To confirm his words with something much more tangible than your entangled hands and knees pressed close.

“You’d let me do what?” Neil tilted his head slightly as if trying to get a better reading of you.

From the depth of feelings, he must have seen on your face.

The slight smug tint to his smile let you know it was all just a pose. He had it figured out already. Except that being a little shit that he sometimes tended to be, Neil wanted to hear you say it. Assuredly. Loudly. Just so there was no room for doubt and a chance to confirm what you both knew. The desire was very much mutual. Sometimes, especially at night, you liked to recollect the exact feel of his hands on your body and the sounds he made when he came inside you. Those memories were enough to make you climax.

Neil had that much power over you for better or for worse. Somehow, even before actively opening your mouth to speak, you already knew you would not put up a fight. There was no point.

“Whatever you want,” squeezing his hand that was comfortably placed in your lap, you made sure to meet his gaze when stating the obvious.

Neil took it with a blinding smile, his hand letting go of yours to venture up your neck again, lightly brushing over the faded bruises as if he could still remember where he had marked you a week before. You did not tell him that the morning after you took a picture of yourself in the bathroom mirror. Just to have another thing to remember him by.

“And now?” with your proximity, you could feel his breath fan your face with every word spoken.

The intensity in Neil’s gaze was almost too much. Almost, for it was exactly what you needed to be brave again. It strengthened the resolve blooming beneath your skin as you cupped his cheek and stroked the stubble with your thumb. It was impossible not to notice how Neil closed his eyes upon your move, leaning into your palm as if that was what he needed. With the evidence of your shared wants so clearly displayed, you did not need further courage to say what has been nagging at your brain for the past hours. One request gnawing at your mind, heart and soul, impossible to ignored.

“Now just kiss me” frowning at the needy tone of your voice, you waited for Neil’s eyes to snap open to add what was only aimed to be a further persuasion, “Please. It’s been too long,” noting the hunger in his gaze, you knew you did not have to convince him to give you what you asked for.

He wanted it too, only-

“A week” his lips twisted into an amused smirk as he arched his eyebrow in the face of your hunger.

Any other time, you would have let him indulge in it. You would have let him be a nuisance to fulfil the internal quota Neil seemed to have set for himself. But tonight, you had no patience left.

“Exactly. Too long,” freeing your hand to draw him even closer with a hold over his jacket, you closed your eyes and slid your palm to the back of his neck, angling Neil the way you needed him.

Neil did not need further pointers. You heard his quiet groan, half-swallowed by your mouth and felt him pull you as close as physically possible with his arm around your waist and a hand on your cheek. Your body moulded to his shape, lips slanting over his with practised ease. That first swipe of your tongue across his lower lip instantly reminded you exactly why his kisses were something you missed so desperately. The familiar taste filled your senses, making you dig your fingertips in the hair on his nape, tugging gently at the golden locks. It was impossible not to let out a quiet moan straight into his opening mouth. Neil’s tongue greedily collected the sound, mapping the inside of your mouth with attention to detail that still astounded you. As did his unwavering hold, arm gently supporting your back and keeping you close, nestled into his chest and the warmth it provided.

You kissed until oxygen became a prized commodity you could not willingly give up. Even if you wanted to. Only then, with a final decisive peck on his closing lips, you leaned back (only as far as Neil would allow) and opened your eyes. He was one step ahead, staring at you with a soft smile. There was no choice but to mirror the expression, relaxing your hold on his neck and pressing your palm flat over his heart. Neil’s thumb stroked your cheekbone, eliciting an embarrassingly affectionate look in your eyes. As if hoping to rectify its impact, you dropped his gaze and let go of him, aware that more tenderness between you would only spell trouble. And that was the last thing you needed.

As if reading your mind, a feat you were half-sure Neil was capable of (all things considered), he dropped his hands, letting go of you and offered another reassuring smile. A simple gesture yet sufficient in helping your heart rate drop to normal levels. A cursory glance out the window assured you had not accidentally missed your stop - another win for the nonexistent tally. Almost as good as the very next thing Neil chose to say:

“Soon, I might also have that other answer for you” his nonchalant tone was a striking contrast to the previous certainty and smugness.

But it did its job, drawing you in with ease. Despite the fading awkwardness, you met his gaze and noted the sincerity you could see there. The genuine wish to both make you comfortable again and share that one significant piece of his story you did not yet possess.

“The one that got you in trouble tonight?” risking a sly look, you arched an eyebrow and leaned back in the creaky plastic chair.

While Wheeler indirectly told you to drop it, there was no chance you would listen. And especially not when it was just you and Neil, alone and open to each other like always.

You knew you had hit the jackpot with your guess when Neil winced, a passing shell-shocked expression on his face hinting at slight trauma of the kind that only the closest friends could inflict upon one another. Whatever happened when John all but hauled him out of the room was not pleasant. And it only added to the curiosity in your soul.

“It wasn’t- Yes, that one” interrupting his attempt at deflection, Neil nodded, his smile dropping in favour of something much more serious.

It was not a sight you wanted to see. It seemed wrong. Especially then in an empty carriage with the flickering lights after such a pleasant evening. As much as you wanted to know, constantly consumed with the eagerness to unveil that remaining piece of the puzzle labelled ‘Neil’ (the label was blue, with the glittery gold letters and pink heart-shaped embellishments), the other part of your brain hated seeing him so sombre. Hated the fading smiles and the uncertainties those grey moments tended to unleash within Neil. There was no question about what you needed to do.

“That’s okay, I already know all I need” without letting yourself falter, you reached out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder and offered him a bright smile.

Hoping to convey the most important message – it could wait. There was no rush. Nothing better to do but enjoy what you shared without further need to complicate it.

“Which is?” the hesitation in his question only drove the point forward, helping you eradicate the remaining inhibitions.

Even if just for this one moment. You knew your time was running out, with the St. John’s Wood station approaching mercilessly. If you were in luck, there were perhaps three minutes to spare. Three minutes to show Neil his secret did not matter at all.

Your hand slid down his chest to comfortably settle atop his knee, the warmth of his body slowly becoming your favourite type of anchor. Neil glanced at your subtle move, but he stayed still. Almost as if afraid to move and break the spell. This fear, too, had to be quelled immediately.

“That I’m allowed to do this” with a whisper, you leaned in and closed the gap again by covering his mouth in a gentle kiss. Where previously there was hunger and desire, this time tenderness reigned, helping you settle the right pace with measured pecks and soothing caresses of your hands upon his body. Neil matched you beat for beat, drawing you closer again and gladly accepting all that you were giving. You kissed until a familiar crackle of the PA system made you separate, panting mouth and hazed eyes shared between you. Grinning like a lunatic, you leaned back in for a split second to kiss his cheek and stood up before Neil had a chance to react, “And that you’re my best friend” it almost felt like a relief to say out loud. Especially when the confession was received with Neil’s surprised, yet blinding smile, breaking through the paralysis induced by your sudden actions. The train began to slow down, approaching your station platform. Without another word or reckless act, you approached the doors and turned your head towards him with a simple farewell “Goodnight” as soon as it slid open, you left the carriage.

#neil tenet #tenet movie #tenet #tenet 2020 #neil tenet x reader #neil tenet fanfic #neil x reader #neil tenet imagine #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson x you #robert pattinson x y/n #robert pattinson imagine #deadlines & commitments

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feline-evil · 14 days

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Oh yeah i forgot to say here too cuz i'm more likely to stay at least a little active on here through it since it serves me slightly less rage inducing dickheads that i'll pick a fight with, but something upsetting as happened and i'm definitely not going to be in a good mood for a while so my activity online may go down.

My cat unexpectedly declined rapidly overnight and had to be put down yesterday, i do not always cope with loss well, i've lost a lot of people and animals in my life. We buried her, i helped dig, i dug with my bare hands because i couldn't wield the shovel properly with how fucked my arms are and my entire body started shaking halfway through and is still trembling the day after. I had to look after my parents through this, they cried, i didn't, emotions don't work right in me anymore. I'm giving all this information to paint a clear enough picture as to why i'm not here to be fucked with at the moment. I don't want to deal with stupid fucking twitter discourse that makes me want to punch a wall, i don't want to deal with pathetic cunts who have a problem with some nobody like me and harass me whenever i have anon on here, so as you can imagine considering both of these are fucking constants when im online for some fucking reason, my activity might be spotty.

I loved my cat a lot, she was already nineteen when she turned up outside my door terrified of people, scrounging through the small food waste bin. She looked so starved and feral i thought she was gonna die back then, i spent days slowly working up her trust, sitting by my door talking soft, not making eye contact, just letting her get used to me; i needed to check her condition, needed to know if i could help. She was filthy, flea ridden and starved, her little bald ears burnt and painful. Eventually she trusted me enough to take food, then be touched, and then a week later she was in the house. Two weeks she stayed the first time, kept warm and safe with blankets and food; a toothless, ancient cat i felt sure we were given a few final days respite before she passed. Her owners turned up after those two weeks. Our neighbours two doors down. They took her back, i was not happy. But as soon as they let her outside again she ran right on back to us purring and purring as much as she could, curling right back up in her blankets. After this happened time and time again eventually the neighbours let us keep her, i'm so glad that they did because she began to heal. Her ears cleared up, her fur became soft and silky, she started behaving like a normal cat again; she put a little weight on, never a lot, but enough to not look starved, and she even tried to gain her meow back (she was a silent meower, that she never managed to fix, but she did start to make a little noise).

She was with us for three years past that, or nearly three it wouldve been three next month, and she was the sweetest cat in the world; she didn't often have energy to play, she wasn't the adventurous sort, she just wanted to lie near you and purr. She'd cry and howl if she couldnt find us, she never bit or deliberately scratched, she was an absolute gentle soul. When we moved it was the best thing for her, going to a smaller, easier to navigate house with a lovely safe, enclosed out door space; she got to feel the sun and the dirt again for those last few months, but safely, not as some poor frail animal left outside to fend for herself.

The vet told us her organs had failed when we took her yesterday, that even if she were a younger cat she'd be a candidate for humane euthanasia. There was no coming back from that. It was her time, we knew, the decline she had overnight was a sign she was ready to go; to keep her from saying goodbye would be crueller than letting her go. She was 21, nearly 22. I found fragments of a blue china plate in the dirt we dug for her, i kept it, its so pretty. I made her a bouquet out of tiny wild flowers from the garden. She's buried in her favourite spot. I'm really happy i got to put in the work to give her the life she deserved even if it was only for her last few years.

#jay talkin #cw pet death #this is a lot of information to give but i just want people to understand #why i am not social nor fun rn and how much my cat meant to me

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mangogemm · 1 year

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💌 Introduction...

I've always been terrible at introductions. Always wondering what should I say, is this too much? Too less? Hence I've never had bio/introduction on any social platform. But Tumblr is different. It's just been a week since i joined but I've never loved any platform so much. Tumblr feels like a safe home... where i don't have to think too much about what to say. The best part is everyone here is like that...and it's beautiful honestly. The raw, genuine, chaotic, honest side of people here is what I love. Okay enough bakbak now I'll start with the introduction...

So hello, I'm Ekta :)

I'm 21. मराठी मुलगी haha ❤️ A computer science graduate. I'm the eldest daughter 🌚

@mainsamayhoon is my little sister who has a twin brother. And I love these two little munchkins more than anything in my life. God has made up for all the shitty things in my life by sending them as my siblings.

Not just these two. I am so so blessed to have amazing people in my life who are just so dear to me I can't even begin to describe it in words. @maybeicebreaker being one of them. I love this girl so much. sister from another mother fr. Also I love her mom 😭 who basically treats me like her daughter. Then there's @imacrickthing who's my baby. One more light in my life. She's my niece who's just 5 years younger to me lol. (Indian families be weird like that) I'm technically her आत्या lol. But we're more like besties only. Also love her mom who's my second mom basically. My वहिनी. And just like these cuties i have many more cuties in my life who just make me so happy. Who make life worth living. And I'm beyond grateful to have them.

Here are some things that I love, cause Mother Taylor Swift said "you are what you love" -

As you must have guessed. Miss Taylor Swift.

Sunsets. 🌅

Music, Movies, Stories.. 💌 ( fav movie : Interstellar )

Food 🤌 specially आईच्या हातच. Big fan of पुरणपोळी.

This beautiful beautiful universe.

Some random facts about me -

I'm an introvert. But I love talking to people :) first meets are usually super awkward for me but when I get comfortable i won't shut up lol. Also, love listening to people. So if anyone wants to rant, vent, talk about random shit...feel free to text me ;)

I'm very very emotional. And honestly I love that about myself. Sure, I am sensitive and I get hurt easily...but i also get to experience all the good emotions on that same level. So chalta hai :)

A hopeless romantic all my life 🎶 haha. Won't be able to describe how much i LOVE love. It's the most beautiful thing to ever exist and it's such an honour we get to experience it. काफ़ी प्यारी चीज़ है प्यार।

I love comedy lol. I spend most of my time watching comedy. Some of my favourites are - Rahul subramanian, kanan gill, kenny Sebastian.

That's enough ig. That's me. Maybe I'll add more things in future. Let's see. For now that's all.

On this blog you'll just find random shit posts, me dumping my silly thoughts, sometimes posting something wise being pretentious, do-tin fukat ke advice, rona dhona...Blah blah. So make yourself at home if that's your kinda stuff 🥰

If you read all this, Thank you for your time :) I appreciate it cute human <3

#introductory post #this is me #nice to meet ya

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sk8termikey · 4 months

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Chapter 7 of 21 Questions

better interface on wattpad

"Your boyfriend texted!" Alex called for her best friend who was in the kitchen, as the phone lit up from a message from Matt🍂.

"My hands are full of batter girl, just tell me what he says and maybe reply for me if it looks important", Lily replied as she was cooking. "And drop the boy in front of friend, unless you put a fucking space between the words.

As she used her fingerprint to unlock Lily's phone, Alex looked at the notification – she didn't want to actually open the message in case it could wait, fearing that she might leave the boy on read. She had been joking for the past month about Lily and her new friend's relationship since she discovered that he went out of his way to send a picture to Lily. This had been enough proof for Alex to start teasing her best friend about a possible romance – pretty pictures of the sky were in fact Lily's love language. Both girls did know it was just for fun, the same way they would qualify famous people as theirs when it was their ultimate celebrity crush.

Furrowing her brows at the phone in front of her, Alex didn't know whether to qualify the text as important or not.

Matt🍂

If I asked you to hide a body for me, would you?

Alex went to the kitchen where Lily was and read her the text, which led to the brunette letting out a laugh.

"Oh my god this kid I swear to god". Lily couldn’t stop laughing as she thought about an answer. "This sounds semi important lol but just tell him that of course I am always down to hide a body, I know a few tricks."

Alex laughed as well – more to her friend's reply than the actual subject – and wrote back a message, trying to imitate Lily's writing style. The two girls influenced each other a lot regarding their texting habits and the way they spoke, thus making it easy for Alex to fake it. Before sending it, she thought it could be funny to actually hold a conversation with the mystery guy as she had only heard about him and still needed to check if he was a good person for Lily.

Matt🍂

If I asked you to hide a body for me, would you?

Heya, your girl's bestie here

Obviously she would

Dw ab it

Thanks for the reassurance haha

You're the famous Alex?

I am, yes💃🏻

Glad to know I'm known even in whatever state you're in

I'm here to check if you're legit bro

Check all you want

I like to think I'm a good person

Well

You did ask help to bury a body

This doesn't help your case

Well

According to you, your "bestie" would help my case

Nice one

Ig talking for a couple of months led to you guys knowing each other

Yeah, it's fun getting to know Lily

She's really kind and we get along well :)

Friendship test then

You ready for it?

Go ahead

Simple questions to see if you deserve the honour of taking her time

Her favourite colour?

I know this one

It's purple

But she told me she actually doesn't have lots of purple things in her life, mostly blue

Wow bonus points

Yes!

I'm sure I can manage the rest

We'll see, pokemon boy

Her favourite food?

One of the first things we talked about

I remember bc I don't like sushi

So it's this and pizza i think

I-

I'm gonna ignore you not liking sushi and give you the point

Hmm next question

Do you know where we work?

Like our job

Yeah, a café right?

With books

She loves talking about it

She just loves talking about you in general because you're related to her passions

And also being the closest person to her

Damn this girl is absolutely getting the best birthday ever

She deserves the world

Ig you pass the test matty boy

Ok what

Unsent

The fuck is this nickname coming from

Unsent

We're just chilling, no need to panic

Unsent

Cool cool cool

Wait i kinda need a retake tho

What

Why

Idk her birthday??

I don't think we ever talked about it

That just means you'll never steal my best friend title

But yeah it's next week actually

Well in less than a week technically like in 4 days

Thanks, I'll wish it to her then

You better

I'm gonna delete the last texts so that she gets your text as a surprise

Counting on you bro

Of course, I won't let you or her down

As she deleted the last dozens of messages between her and Matt, Alex then put down the phone and looked up to see Lily smiling at her.

"You were having fun?" Lily asked her best friend. "I couldn't hear you for ten minutes and you looked like you were having fun."

"Oh". Alex was almost embarrassed to be caught enjoying a conversation with her friend's new friend. She shrugged it off and slided the phone back to its owner. "Just checking if the kid deserves your friendship."

"And? What's the verdict, judge Alex?" Lily playfully teased.

"Well, I guess he's not that bad. I trust you and you would have dropped him if he wasn't someone you liked talking to."

Lily's smile grew bigger at Alex's replies and took her arm to lead her to the couch as they would watch TV while waiting for Lily's desserts to cook.

~~~

A few days later and on the eve of Lily's birthday, Alex had everything planned: she was prepared to give her best friend a wonderful twentieth birthday, starting the day before with their out-of-work-coming-back-to-home ritual. As always for the last months, Wednesday meant a new video from the Sturniolo Triplets and Alex had prepared a comfortable scenery for Lily. The couch had been specially opened as a bed, with several blankets carefully folded on it. Snacks were ready and dinner was on its way as Alex had ordered some of Lily's favourites, which were pizza and sushi – damn Matt did get it right, Alex thought back to her conversation with him a few days prior. She hoped he could be part of Lily's happiness tomorrow, and maybe for a while after. Lily had always wished for simple birthdays. The sheer fact of knowing the people she loved took the time to think of her on this day was enough to her. Lily only needed her favourite people around her; just a day spent with her loved ones was the only gift she wished for and this is what Alex tried to stay faithful to, although a couple of surprises felt deserved for the special occasion.

As usual, Lily was coming home almost an hour after the video came out and Alex wasted no time to welcome her friend at the door. She took Lily's bag to put it down and closed the door behind them.

"Now now, just do whatever I say and don't ask questions", Alex ordered Lily who could only comply.

The blonde led her best friend to the bathroom and to Lily's surprise, a bath had been drawn along with a few candles. Pink bubbles could be seen floating on top of the bath and Lily couldn't help but smile. It had been a long day at work – one of those rude customers who were unable to accept that their order was not ready within two seconds after having asked for it – so the girl had been exhausted and her mood started to lift up due to this pleasant surprise.

"I don't want to see you for at least the next half hour", Alex warned her friend. "Enjoy this and stay in it until your skin gets fucking wrinkles, okay?"

Lily nodded with a quiet laugh and got ready to enter the bath as Alex left the room, not without putting on a bit of music to help Lily relax.

Exactly thirty-one minutes later did Lily go back downstairs to see Alex setting up the freshly arrived food on the table in the living room. Lily definitely appreciated the bath and the calm music, but she had felt lonely and only wanted to come back to her friend so that they could do their weekly tradition in honour of a new vlog or challenge from their favourite triplets.

Lily saw the TV already set up to play this day's video which was entitled Chris forced us all to do COLD PLUNGES – it sounded even more chaotic than the previous videos and Lily knew it was possible for them to achieve that.

The two girls sat on the couch and put the food between them as the video started. What was a given from the title is that the triplets were going to bathe in ice cold water and so they had to go to the supermarket to buy ice. As they didn’t find enough – well in Chris’s opinion, the youngest triplet decided to ask if they had more in the back when they were paying. Luckily for them, the cashier managed to bring them more ice, which Chris thanked him for as he put them all in his arms.

“Damn, I feel cold just watching him with all this ice,” Lily said as she shivered. She had always been prone to being cold and getting sick easily so she knew the whole video was going to make her feel uncomfortable even though she wasn’t the one doing the activity with them.

Alex laughed at her friend’s comment and they started laughing even more when Chris wished for more ice, thus getting his brothers to go to another store and ending with a cart full of ice per Chris’s request.

“Okay, this is definitely too much ice like I gotta agree with Nick on this one”, Alex said as she was matching Nick’s apprehensive expression.

“Yeah for real”, Lily approved. “Chris is gonna regret saying that it’s never too much.”

After the bathtub was filled with ice and ice cold water, the triplets were finally ready to do their “cold plunges” as Chris tried to motivate himself by having to pretend to be a can of pepsi. Funnily enough, there had actually been a can of pepsi right before this. Therefore, Chris was the first to go in and he did regret it as he was barely able to put his feet in the bathtub. Followed Nick who imitated Chris with a spider-like position above the bathtub but did not end up fully in – unlike Matt who absolutely did not care and managed to get most of his body in the water.

“I. Am. amazed right now”, Lily commented as she was curled like a ball with a blanket around her. “I don’t know how he accepted the idea and succeeded in doing that. I would surely want to kill my brothers for this crazy situation.”

Alex hummed in agreement with her best friend and they both gasped when a couple of minutes later, Nick also fully went into the bathtub. The two girls then started laughing along with Matt and Chris as Nick ran into the shower while being shocked from what he had just done. After the middle and youngest decided to give it one last try, Lily couldn’t help but comment:

“Wait, I just noticed, is Chris the only one without tattoos?”

“Yeah, Nick and Matt both have an almost full sleeve but Chris doesn’t have any for now”, Alex explained. “I don’t know if he’ll ever get one but he would look great with a couple honestly.”

“I totally agree. And I absolutely love Nick’s and Matt’s tattoos, I might have to look at them more clearly to get a few inspirations for if I ever decide to get tattooed.” Lily was in awe of the triplets at the moment: since she started to follow them, Lily had to admit that they were all good-looking and tattoos really added something to their charm. “Also if I can say, Matt is slaying with the beard.”

“Right?” Alex exclaimed. “That was such a good move from him and I hope he’s gonna keep it for a while.”

As the girls kept talking after watching the video, Lily was feeling so much better. The simple things like spending time with her favourite person and eating her favourite foods were all Lily could ask for to enjoy life.

The night being still young, the two girls decided to watch some of their favourite Disney movies, such as Cars or Inside Out. They had a passion for animated movies that quickly brought them together when their friendship had started and everytime a new movie would come out, they would go see it together at the cinema. Lily and Alex had had this routine for a few years and none of them would ever trade the way they lived.

It was finally the actual date of Lily's birthday. As she had already spent a really nice evening the day before with Alex, she wasn't expecting much when she woke up. Obviously, everyone at the café had been giving a day off as the four coworkers were planning to maybe hang out to celebrate Lily's twentieth birthday.

As it had happened last year as well – since the two girls started living together, both Lily's and Alex's parents called her to wish her a good day and catch up on what was new. The two families had been close since the two became best friends and would often have get-together, even as Lily and Alex moved out from their family houses.

After an hour spent talking to her parents and "second" parents, Lily received a message from the group chat with her friends.

gc: Caffeine addicts💃🏻💃🏻

Alexxx🫶🏻

Okayy guys

Everyone meet at noon at our house

We're going out :))

Luke🌈

Will I drive the whole way or be able to leave my car at yours?

Bc if i do, i need gas💀

Alexxx🫶🏻

Well-

That'd be great bc I'm not making my bestie drive on her bday

I'll pay for it even

Or you drive our car idk

Luke🌈

Kk, I'll go now

And no need dw<3

I'll regret not having gas and forgetting in a few days i know myself

Jade🌱

I'll be there, see you soon!!

Why am I only learning ab it now??

Where are we even going like

What's the dress code??

Jade🌱

Wear smth normal

It's gonna be chill, don't overthink

Okay😭

@Alexxx🫶🏻 where are you btw?

Alexxx🫶🏻

Just went to give back a plate to the neighbour

Yk she cooked us the muffins last week

Oooh ye i remember

Ig I'll get ready then

What Lily didn't know is that Alex was absolutely not at their neighbour's. The plate had been given back a few days ago already but Alex took the opportunity of Lily forgetting to use that excuse. In reality, the blonde was at the bakery to get the birthday cake she had ordered: Lily's favourite, which was a triple chocolate cake with some fresh fruits on the top.

~~~

When she came home, Alex was right on time as Lily was descending the stairs. Alex went up to her best friend to wish her happy birthday for the tenth time – she had already said it the day before as a pre-birthday celebration, then at midnight, then she had sent a couple of texts to Lily during the night. The two girls hugged for a few minutes then let go as it was almost time for their friends to arrive. The four of them were all used to being punctual so it wasn't a surprise when at five to twelve, the doorbell rang. Lucas had picked Jade up as they were living near each other. Lily being ready and Alex having prepared what she needed earlier in the morning, they all decided to go. As agreed, Lucas drove his three friends to the secret place – secret only to Lily obviously – and for the whole ride, he had let the birthday girl choose the music, which was a once in a blue moon occasion for Lucas was very picky with what type of music was played in his car. Well, today was a special day and Lily took advantage of it.

After a ride full of pop music, the four friends arrived at the Weeki Wachee Spring State Park. It was not just a simple park, but it was filled with attractions and animals, appealing to both children and adults. Alex had purchased tickets knowing how much Lily loved nature and just walking around while admiring the beauty of the world they had the chance to live in. Speaking of the devil, Lilt was ecstatic when she realised where they were. She had been wanting to go there for a while but never had the chance so she was really excited to finally visit it. The weather was perfect for a day out and Alex knew it was because her friend brought happiness and warmth everywhere she went, just like the sun would.

After checking in, the group let Jade guide them as she had been to the place a couple of times and knew exactly where to bring Lily to make her have the best day ever. Lucas had brought some food and so once in a while they would just sit on a bench to eat as they appreciated what Mother Nature gave them. For the whole afternoon, they simply walked around and as Lily was smiling at every turn, her three friends could only be happy as well that she was having an amazing day.

As they were leaving the park due to it closing and coming back to Lucas's car, Jade suddenly gasped.

"Oh my god fuck–"

"What's wrong?" Lily immediately asked, afraid that her friend was in trouble.

"Oh sorry, I was just looking for my cardigan in my bag. I was so sure I packed it," Jade explained.

"Wait, do you mean the one you had on yesterday?" Lucas tried to confirm. "The brown one?"

"How did you know?"

"I'm pretty sure I saw it on the couch in the break room", Lucas replied.

Jade faced her friend as if he had revealed the world's biggest secret to her. The sad expression on her face was enough for Lily to react.

"Well, tomorrow is your day off so that would mean you won't get it back till Saturday. We can get it before coming home if you want, it's on the way." Lily suggested as she didn't want one of her friends to experience an issue.

Jade quickly thanked Lily for offering and so they all decided to make a quick stop by their workplace. Little did Lily know, she was so predictable that this whole conversation had been rehearsed and planned by her friends. Indeed, they knew the brunette would never let Jade go home without her beloved cardigan – which was actually at the café, but Jade didn't give a fuck about it as she could literally come get it the next day even if she didn't have a shift. It was usual for one of them to just come to the café and act as a customer who was absolutely not working there.

When they arrived at the café, Lily was the first to leave the car and take her keys to open the door. She was fully expecting it to take five minutes maximum as she just needed to go into the break room, take the cardigan and come back outside so that her friends didn't have anything to do – which was still according to their plan. As a matter of fact, when Lily entered the main room where most of the chairs and tables were, she actually stopped in her tracks and wondered why some of the chairs were down. Had she forgotten to put them all on the tables when she closed yesterday? To be sure of what she thought she was seeing, Lily turned the light on and was faced with a surprise. Nothing could have prepared her for the huge sign that was reading HAPPY 20TH BIRTHDAY and the heart balloons over the counter.

Turning back to the door through which she entered, Lily was met with her friends all smiling and singing to her. How had she not seen it coming? Lily had just expected the afternoon at the park to be the only thing they had planned, along with a small diner back at her house. She was still harbouring a shocked expression when Alex quickly slipped behind her to go open the fridge and took out the cake she had bought this morning. As she lit up twenty candles on the cake, Alex, Jade and Lucas started again to sing to Lily. When the cake was put down on the only table without any chair on it, they all sat down and told Lily to make a wish, which she did while blowing out her candles. Following some laughter during the explanations of how Alex had lied this morning as well as how Lucas and Jade had come in early to decorate the café, the four friends enjoyed the cake and discussed some memories of previous birthdays they had experienced together. Although Jade and Lucas had only been working with Lily and Alex for less than two years, it was enough for the four of them to develop a close bond.

After they finished eating, Jade, Lucas and Alex went to the break room to retrieve the gifts they had for Lily – plus the brown cardigan that Jade remembered. They all gave their presents to Lily, who started crying when opening them – emotions are really overwhelming sometimes. Lucas had bought her new headphones as her old ones stopped working a few weeks ago. They were decorated with heart and flower stickers which Lily found adorable. Jade, as a fan of crafts, had made her a set composed of a mug, a plate and a bowl that were all painted with Lily's favourite colour. Finally, Alex had bought her a Care Bear – the "Tenderheart" one, which was perfect to symbolise the girls' relationship. Lily thanked them all for their friendship and told them how glad she was to have them in her life as she hugged them first individually then decided she wanted a group hug.

Lily would never trade her friends for anything else and as she came home with Alex after bidding goodbye to Jade and Lucas who had dropped them off, she realised that another friend of hers was starting to be also important to her. Indeed, as she hadn't checked her phone since they left the park, Lily saw that she had actually received a birthday message a few hours ago from her new friend Matt, which brought a smile onto her face.

Matt🍂

Hi, I hope you had/have a good day

Just wanted to wish you a happy birthday, enjoy your twenties :)

Thank you so much omgg<3

How do you even know?

I don't remember ever mentioning it

Or i just have a bad memory-

It was actually your friend alex who told me

When she replied to me a few days ago?

Ooooh

Makes sense

So, did you enjoy your day?

Yess it was so fun!!

My friends organised me a great day, i love them sm

Good to know

While we're at it, I need to know your birthday now

It's only fair🤷🏻‍♀️

Here we go

Unsent

Hmm ok ok a random date far enough from now

Unsent

Oh yes of course

It's november 6

Not very soon

I'll remember it :))

It's a bit late for me rn so I won't stay up long but thanks again

It was nice to know you thought of me

No problem

You're kinda in my thoughts lately tbh

I've been binge watching gravity falls so yeah haha

Oh haha

A man of taste

You know me!

Well i won't keep you awake so have a good night

Thaanks, you too

Talk to you soon

Thank you for reading. Votes and comments are always appreciated if you like this story :) The story is co-written w @/little_grapejuice on wattpad

#chris sturniolo #chris #christopher sturniolo #nick stuniolo fanfic #nick stuniolo #nick sturniolo #nick #matt sturniolo fanfic #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt #fanfic

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geodraws04 · 5 months

Text

V3 Remnant AU 4/10/24 Update - ALL ROLES ARE NOW OPEN FOR CASTING!

WHAT IS UP LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, DUDEDS AND DUDETTES, MY GUYS, GALS, AND NONBINARY PALS!, AND MY BITCHES, BROS, AND NONBINARY HOES!

YES YOU READ THAT RIGHT! With the Dr3 Cast all completed, ALL ROLES ARE COMPLETED AND OPENED FOR AUDITIONS!

I apologize for the delay in getting them all up on time, but here we are now!

As mentioned in a previous update, I will start slowly casting roles starting the week of 4/21 like originally planned, but extend the deadline for other roles out by another week or two, depending on how many auditions some characters get.

I'll start by casting the V3 characters since they've been up the longest, then the notable characters of DrTHH and the Dr2 Cast, then finally cast the Dr3 cast and the rest of the DrTHH cast.

Jost be aware that some characters may still be up even when their respective cast is mostly filled out! This is due to a good few characters only having less than two auditions for them, and I do want them to have a bit more time to sit and see if more auditions roll in before I make a final decision.

I am also looking for video editors and other artists to work alongside with too! I will be doing some comics and video editing as well, but in case I have too much time on my hands or am busy with other things, I could always use an extra hand! So those two roles are also listed as well!

Hope that is good with everybody! I'm super excited to get this project rolling and working with you!

Thanks for reading!

#danganronpa #remnants of despair #danganronpa 3 #danganronpa au #danganronpa v3 #remnants of despair au #danganronpa trigger happy havoc #danganronpa v3 killing harmony #danganronpa 2 #v3 remnants au #casting call #voice acting #looking for artist #looking for video editors

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askteikoku · 2 years

Note

NaruMura with 21: Through a song ❤️

First of all sorry everyone for the disappearence, I got sick. I also passing for an art block so I only add the writting but as soon as I recover for this too I'll try to do some chibis for each ficlet! Here you have! Hope you'll like it!

Narukami had never fallen in love with anyone, he had spent his fourteen years up to that point with no interest in anyone else and love was a strange and abstract concept that only appeared frequently in the songs he listened to. A phenomenon that occurred around him uniting his friends but that did not directly affect him.

If he didn't expect to fall in love, much less did he expect that the person who finally managed to reach his heart lived more than two thousand kilometers from his city.

And yet it was inevitable for him to fall in love with the Oumihara team's engaging tactician, Otomura, whom he met during a Teikoku match against the Okinawan team when he was in his second year of middle school.

He was surprised that the captain of the Oumihara was good friends with Kidou and Otonashi, they told him how they had met a year before and how they recruited Tsunami, who also was a great friend of Fudou's and who was screaming in the sea at that time because the pinkhead took his friend surfing in the same table and due to Fudou’s inexperience they ended up falling because of a wave.

They all laughed, and Narukami found that Otomura's laugh was much deeper, more intimate and extraordinary than any music he had ever heard.

From that day on, Otomura and Narukai began to talk, because somehow their passion not only for soccer but also for music allowed them to connect like two gears ready to fit into each other. Every day they spoke through messages, telling each other about their days, exchanging songs they liked and sending memes that made them laugh until they cried with sore stomachs from the laugh.

There came a time when Narukami was looking forward to finishing his daily chores at school and training so that he could talk to him. In the same way that there came a time when their conversations through messages became conversations through video calls.

During the summer of his third year of Middle School, his friend invited him to spend a few days with him in Okinawa. Doumen and Otonashi, who were up to date on the boy's feelings, not because he had come to tell them but because it was too obvious what they were, congratulated him and repeated once more that they were sure that Otomura felt the same as him.

But Narukami wasn't sure about it, it was true that he was in love, it was true that they got along perfectly, it was true that they were talking until late and that on some occasion they fell asleep because they didn't want to end the call. But it was also true that they lived very far from each other.

Summer passed and with it Narukami lived a dream vacation with long walks on the beach, cold fruit juices of vibrant color, barbecues with the rest of the Oumihara team and numerous friendly soccer matches.

Winter passed and with it Otomura lived the coldest winter of his life, with snow fights against the Teikoku boys, watching the sunset in Inazuma’s Steel Tower Park and visiting Narukami's favorite cafeterias to drink hot cocoa to recover the heat.

With that feeling in his chest hidden deep in the silence that Narukami kept, time went by, a new summer came and a new winter came. The encounters between the two boys continued to increase: Narukami went to visit Otomura during Golden Week, they saw each other at soccer matches, and they even went to a concert together of a band that they both liked a lot and that was touring Japan.

And then, when Narukami was in his second year of High School, he received some news that made his not-so-secret secret tremble. Otomura had to enter the University and he decided to study in Tokyo.

That changed everything, since they would no longer have hundreds of kilometers separating them but would live in the same city.

When Otomura traveled to Inazuma to look for a flat, Narukami accompanied him and when he finally moved they were both unpacking, singing happily with background music coming from an old radio from the boy with light blue hair.

It got late and Otomura invited him to stay the night with him, the first night in that student flat in Inazuma near the University he had finally managed to enter. They ordered Chinese food and sat on the floor, the radio still playing.

“Which University will you apply to, Kenya?” the boy asked suddenly, causing the other to blush and choke on the noodles.

“I have decided to apply to the same one as you. Maybe we can get into a club together.”

Otomura looked at him with slightly raised eyebrows and two pinkish spots slightly coloring his cheeks, he closed his eyes and smiled happily.

"Of course. I have heard that they have a rather interesting Music Club, although the Football Club is also tempting.”

Narukami chuckled.

“Here we both continue with our two great loves.”

"Three."

Narukami's light blue eyes narrowed, heart pounding. Was Otomura hinting at what he thought he was hinting at? He said nothing but continued eating in an unusual silence, a silence that had little left to disappear.

He bathed after dinner and Otomura lent him his clothes. Narukami wasn't sure which was worse, the horrible fish joke on the shirt or the fact that it smelled like his friend.

“Kenya, before I came here I wrote a song for you, do you want to hear it?”

"Did you write a song for me, Gakuya?" Narukami's face was completely red, and he was not much different from the other boy, he nodded with a heavy feeling in his stomach and Narukami settled next to him.

The strategist took the keyboard he had brought with him and placed it on his crossed legs. He began to move his fingers decisively across the keys while the letter he composed coming out of his lips.

A beautiful love song.

Narukami stood up immediately and his eyes widened each time without interrupting despite believing that the strong beating of his heart must be interfering with the melody, until Otomura finished with an "I love you."

Then he raised his violet eyes to discover the impact of his song. He couldn't see Narukami because as soon as he pushed the keyboard away, Narukami jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly.

"I love you too, Gakuya!"

#inazuma eleven #narukami kenya #otomura gakuya #narumura #teikoku #Valentine's Day at Teikoku #fic request #teikoku gakuen

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baiyunli · 1 year

Note

29 and 21 for the fic asks !!

writer asks

21: Have you ever deleted an entire scene after spending hours laboring over it? If so, why?

i delete a lot of scenes (killing your darlings etc etc) - i'm fairly organized with my workflow, so I separate my scenes with dropdowns and if i feel that it isn't adding to the plot, i'll mark it as archived and paste it into an 'extras' document for scenes i cut from that fic. it's a pretty natural part of my writing pace, i think, and i'm working on writing less filler, so it works for me.

29: Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic.

oh gosh, i think the only bit i have is from a future fic where jack gets traded to the canucks and doesn't speak to nico for years. i got about 12k in before i tapped out, but i do have the first scene to offer (~3.5k under the cut):

At thirty-seven years old, Nico Hischier thinks that maybe, probably, he’s thoroughly sick of eating vegetable stir-fry.

He’s been eating it since he can remember, since he moved to the States and had to start fending for himself, none of his older teammates or hotel buffets to mooch off when he was living alone. And twenty years in, the prospect of another stir-fry is about as exciting as a bag skate. It mostly surprises him that it took so long to sink in.

A quick search of his fridge yields nothing. He’s only been back in New Jersey for two weeks, so the shelves are sparse enough anyway, but ruling out anything that tends to constitute a stir-fry in his arsenal leaves a jar of pasta sauce and a carton of eggs. Before he can dig through his entire pantry, the doorbell rings.

Nonsensically, he thinks it must be the takeout he hasn’t even ordered yet. When he starts thinking properly, he figures maybe some of the guys are back in Jersey and want to hang out, or a rookie is coming over to eat the kind of real dinner they can’t make themselves. If it’s the latter, Nico will break the news to them that he can’t even find where he put his phone, let alone make dinner, and then they’ll sit on the couch and eat takeout while Nico tries not to feel like his bones are crumbling to dust.

When he gets to the door, though, ‘long time no see’ on the tip of his tongue, it’s not Mercer, or Clarkey, or anyone Nico was ready to see. It’s Jack Hughes.

Nico blinks.

“Hi,” says Jack, somewhere between a statement and a question. “Good to see you.”

Nico stares at him for a second. Swallows hard, and shuts his eyes before counting to ten. He opens them: Jack is still there. “Hi.”

Jack’s smile wavers. It reaches his eyes, but not his heart. “I was just in the area,” he says, fingers curling around the handle of the suitcase hidden behind him. “And I wanted to say hi. Before—you know. Before the season starts.”

There’s no reason why Jack would be in the area, thinks Nico dimly, now that Luke is lighting it up in Detroit and Jack—

“How are you?” asks Jack, lingering in the threshold, like he’s not sure what Nico’s going to say. Nico isn’t sure, either, so perhaps it balances out.

Nico opens the door a little wider, extends a hand for Jack’s suitcase. Steps back: an invitation for Jack to come in and take his shoes off that Jack hesitates at. “Not bad. You…do you want to come in?”

“Yes,” Jack answers. “Thank you.”

“No problem.”

Jack sits down at the kitchen counter. “Renovations?” he asks, looking at the kitchen backsplash, the new tiling on the floor and the cabinet repainting. Jack hasn’t been here in—five years. More than. The fact that he remembers what the kitchen looks like catches Nico off-guard.

“Just the kitchen,” he says. “My sister picked it out.”

Jack nods. “Nice.”

“Are you—how are you?”

“Pretty good,” he says, cupping his chin in his hands as Nico leans against the pantry door. Standing too close to Jack feels like it could be a mistake, and Nico’s made enough of those. “Quinn and I were gonna go back to Vancouver together, but it was driving us crazy living together the whole summer. And I don’t have to be there for another few weeks.”

“Okay.” Nico makes an aborted motion with his hands. His heart pulses out of his chest, messy, erratic. “I, uh. I’m going to grab my phone and I’ll be back. There’s some food in the fridge if you want to eat, I—” he breaks off and tries for a laugh, a little helplessly. It doesn’t come out as one. “I was going to just order in tonight, though. So we can do that too.”

“Sure,” Jack agrees politely. Nico’s never known him not to voice an opinion about what he wants, so he waits a few seconds for Jack to say something else. He doesn’t.

Nico heads down the hallway. His phone isn’t in the gym; he finds it next to the sink in the bathroom. “Here we go,” he says. “Any food requests?”

Jack shakes his head. Bites his lip. The beginnings of a mustache are scattered across his top lip. He still can’t grow facial hair, but Nico respects the effort. “Get whatever you’d usually get,” he says. “I don’t mind.”

Give me something to work with, thinks Nico. He tries to recall what it’s usually like when old teammates come to visit, but no other old teammates had been radio silent for years the way Jack was. No one else came without notice, no one else was the first person he turned to when they won the Stanley Cup. No one else was ever Jack Hughes. “Sushi, then,” he decides.

He pockets his phone and starts looking through his fridge. It’s easier to ignore the reality of Jack Hughes sitting in his kitchen when he has somewhere else to look, something else to focus on. “Planning to go back to Vancouver soon?” he asks, staring at the fridge shelves, which look the same as they did less than an hour ago.

“Not really. Quinn’s pretty fed up with me, right now. Guess I’ve been hanging around too much this summer. You know how it is.”

Nico nods, even though he doesn’t know. He and Luca never had problems living together, but Jack and his brothers have always surprised him.

“I figured I’d lie low until I really have to go and train,” Jack says. “I can live without Quinn for a few weeks.”

Nico runs his tongue over his teeth, shuts the fridge. He can’t tell what Jack’s angling for. “I have a guest room,” he says, hating himself for hesitating, hating himself for offering it at all. “As long as you need. If you want.”

“Yeah, that’d be—” Jack grins, wide and real, for maybe the first time since he’s arrived. Nico’s bones sing at the sight of his smile. Everything else inside him aches. “That would be good. Thanks.”

“It’s not a problem.” He swallows. It might be a problem. It might not. Jack always makes him feel this way: like even what he doesn’t say is a mistake. Like a form of self-flagellation, like something he’ll never get right. “You want tea, coffee, anything?”

Shaking his head, Jack taps his fingers on the counter. “I’m good. I ate on the plane.”

“Okay,” says Nico, cautious. “Well. I smell pretty bad right now, so I’m going to hop in the shower. Feel free to turn the TV on or get unpacked. The guest room’s down the hall, third on the left.” He wouldn’t normally leave a guest to amuse themselves in his apartment, but he keeps pushing at Jack and failing, and giving him space feels wiser than trying again. He hasn’t felt so wrong-footed in years.

Jack gives him a thumbs-up. “Got it.”

Under the spray of the shower, Nico tilts his head up and lets the water wash over his face, cheeks hot. He blinks away the shampoo in his eyes, rinses off the sweat and combs his hair out with his fingers.

When he’s done, the bathroom thick with steam, he texts Dawson: hey did you know Jack was in NJ? because if Jack gave anyone advance warning it would have been Dawson, and Nico is long past shouldering the hurt of not being Jack’s first choice.

Dawson texts back no?? as Nico’s stepping into a pair of sweatpants. haven’t heard from him in months, I thought he dropped off the grid

He came to say hi, replies Nico. No idea why he’s here, though.

shit, Dawson says. tell him we should meet up before he goes back to van

Nico cuts his phone off. Jack’s in the living room, curled up in the armchair and flipping through channels on the TV mindlessly. His hair’s longer than it was the last time Nico saw it, in his exit interview: curls brushing past the nape of his neck and down to the jut of his spine.

“Dawson says hi,” Nico tells him. “He wants to hang out with you.”

Jack looks up. “Oh. You told him I was here?”

“You didn’t want me to?”

“No, it’s okay,” he says. “It was kind of, uh. Not planned, though. I haven’t gotten around to messaging him yet.” He rubs the back of his neck. “It was a weird summer.”

“I can imagine.” The Devils didn’t have a great season, but it was nothing like the Canucks’, which crashed and burned long before the All-Star break. Fifteen-game landslide and too many bad losses to count. Nico didn’t pay that much attention, but hearing about it was inevitable.

“Had to recharge my batteries, y’know,” Jack says, waving a hand in the air. “Fix some of the shit that went wrong last season.”

“Makes sense.”

When the takeout arrives, Nico gets the plates out and Jack sets the table, as if there’s something more to this dinner than takeout sushi and tap water in the nice glasses.

“I don’t have much to drink,” he says. “I can try and find beer, but I’m not sure if I still have any.”

“It’s fine,” says Jack. He plucks the takeout boxes off the counter and takes them to the table. “I’m okay without a drink. Probably shouldn’t, anyway.”

They eat mostly in silence. Jack shakes his leg under the table, gets up to refill his glass three times, and Nico doesn’t stop him.

“Quinn’s doing well?” asks Nico, finally, picking up a piece of sushi and dipping it in soy sauce.

“Pretty well,” Jack replies. “His last season, probably. He, uh—he was engaged two years ago, but they called it off. I don’t think I told you. He’s spent some time getting over that, getting his shit together. We actually weren’t living together when I first got to Vancouver, but after the breakup he was at my place most of the time anyway, so.”

“Sorry to hear that,” he says. “I hope he’s doing better.” He wants to ask so many things: why didn’t you talk to me after the trade, why are you here, why are you sitting at my dinner table and eating my takeout and pretending we’ve spoken in years?

As if Nico would know the particulars of Quinn’s relationships—or Jack’s, for that matter. Somewhere along the road, Jack Hughes and the Instagram algorithm decided Nico wasn’t all that important in his life.

“Oh, he’s doing fine now,” Jack answers. “He’s old, but he’s still going strong. He’ll set a new points record this season, just wait.”

Nico doesn’t doubt it. Jack says a lot of things, and most of them come true. “Good for him.”

“And you?” Jack prompts. He picks up a dollop of wasabi and spreads it over the roll on his plate. “Anything new?”

“Not much,” he says. His throat tastes sour. “Off-season conditioning, mostly. Trying to show the new guys around, help them get settled. I went to Switzerland in June.”

“Family’s okay?”

He sets his chopsticks down. It’s a different kind of hunger that gnaws at his stomach. “Yeah. Coming to visit next summer, probably."

“Nice,” Jack says. Then, after a moment: “So you’re not—you’re not seeing anyone, or anything?”

Nico does not let himself feel anything about the question. He cannot put all of his bad decisions up for Jack’s scrutiny, air out the reckless hookups and lack of commitment that’s plagued his thirties, talk through everything he’s ever done wrong for Jack to judge, because he’s old enough to stop caring about what Jack thinks, and his heart should really get the memo. “No,” he says shortly. “No partner. Just me.”

Jack’s throat bobs. “Got it,” he says, a little scratchy. “Me neither,” he adds, like Nico had asked, even though he had forced himself not to. “Just me.”

Nico’s breath stutters. He inhales, exhales. Picks up his water and downs it in one gulp. “I gathered.”

The silence stretches out between them. Jack twists his fingers together in his lap. “Nico—”

“I’m going to clean up,” says Nico abruptly. It comes out harsher than he means it to. “You can leave your plate on the counter.”

Jack picks his plate and glass up. He helps Nico load the dishwasher, wipes down the table and puts the takeout boxes in the compost.

Afterwards, he hovers by the fridge, like he’s waiting for Nico to tell him what he can and can’t do.

It would be easier for Nico to ignore him if he wasn’t being helpful. Nico had expected him to be unhelpful—deliberately so, even. But then again, he’d expected the Jack Hughes who was barely thirty and acted far younger, the Jack Hughes who was a New Jersey Devil and had only ever been a New Jersey Devil. His expectations haven’t exactly panned out for him, so far.

“You can head to bed,” Nico offers. “I’m sure you’re tired.” He dries his hands and leads Jack to the guest bedroom, picking up his suitcase from where it’s parked by the sofa and rolling it into the room. “The bathroom’s attached,” he says. “If there are any problems, just call for me.”

“Okay,” Jack says, going easily. He takes his suitcase from Nico, says, “Thanks for giving me a place to stay. I really appreciate it.” He laughs, a little reedy. “Didn’t really want to go back to Vancouver already. I wasn’t looking forward to being recognized.”

He doesn’t offer an apology, because Jack Hughes does not apologize for things he doesn’t feel sorry for, and Nico can barely muster up any feelings about it. “It’s fine.” He still has no excuses for himself, no explanation for why he said yes even though he knew it would only hurt him. Self-preservation has never been his strong suit. Not with Jack. “Sleep well.”

“You too.”

Nico shuts the door as quietly as he can. Then he roots through the junk drawer in the kitchen until he finds a notepad, writes down everything he has to do tomorrow, and sticks it to the fridge. There. One thing under control.

Heard that Jack’s back in town, says Clarkey. Nico suppresses a long sigh.

Did Mercer tell you already?

Take a guess, the reply comes. So he’s staying with you?

For now, yeah.

And he’s the same Jack we knew? Nico has no idea why Clarkey is even asking, seeing as one of them makes a point of getting food with Jack after both of the two games each season that they play the Canucks, and it’s not Nico.

Yes? he says.

Tell him I said hi, Clarkey types. Kinda pissed that he hasn’t texted in a few months.

Nico pauses. He doesn’t say try a few years, but it’s a close thing.

He is not going to cry. He will not cry, not when Jack is in his apartment, not when five years have passed and whatever wounds Jack left in his wake are mostly gone. The space behind his nose still prickles. Tell him that yourself.

I would if he replied to my texts, buddy, says Clarkey. Had no idea where he was this summer.

Neither did I, Nico answers. It seems to be a running pattern. He puts his phone face-down on the counter and starts making tea, all the lights in the apartment off. It’s still too early for sleep. Nico’s eyes feel grainy, his hands unsteady, but he refuses to go to bed until he thinks that Jack has.

The guest room shower shuts off. Nico blocks out the sound of running water and watches the kettle, waiting for it to boil.

The tea warms his hands, at least. He presses his palms against the mug and breathes in the minty scent of the tea leaves, like they might ease some of the tightness catching in his lungs. He rubs his temples, head throbbing.

“Nico?”

He turns around and sees Jack in a pair of sweatpants and an old Canucks shirt, still standing in the watery shadows of the hallway, like he doesn’t want to get closer. Nico exhales through his teeth. “What’s up?”

Jack doesn’t move. “Nothing,” he says, finally. Like this, Nico can’t make out enough from the vague shape of his face to know how he feels, and it’s disconcerting. Everything’s disconcerting right now, with Jack. There’s another long silence. “I’m not that tired.”

“Sure,” says Nico. “You want tea?”

Jack steps forward into the harsh cone of refrigerator light. His curls fall over his forehead. He hasn’t cut his hair in a while, and clearly the summer did wonders for him, skin dipped in sunlight and streaks of his hair dirty blond. “Yeah, that would be good.”

Busying himself with rummaging for another tea bag, Nico turns around in time to see Jack slip into a seat at the counter. “It helps with sleep,” he tells Jack. The mug he gives him has a pair of sunglasses and a beach towel on the side.

“I like the mug."

“Secret Santa gift,” he explains. “One of the rookies got it for me.”

Jack raises a brow. “My rookie got me addition flash cards,” he says, dry and a little put-out.

“Why?” asks Nico, pressing his lips together.

“Apparently I can’t count. But rookies are cruel, anyway.” He traces the pattern on the side of the mug. “One of the kids asked me how close my bones were to crumbling.”

Nico shrugs. “I mean,” he starts. “We’re not—young. Anymore.”

“I am,” Jack says, and it hangs in the odd balance between too breezy and falling flat. “I’m not old, if that’s what you’re saying.”

“We’re pretty old,” Nico tells him.

“Nah, I'm the youngest on the team,” Jack says. “Or at least, I feel like it.”

Nico’s throat itches. “I wouldn’t know,” he says, too raw, too much, all the wanting in his bones spilled out in a flood of breath. “I don’t exactly know anything about your life now. You didn’t tell me much.”

Jack looks at him across the kitchen island. His face is silhouetted in fluorescent white when he brushes his hair out of his face, glances down at the tea in his mug. “You—what?”

He blows out a breath. “It’s not important. I’m going to bed.” Being here is too much and not enough for him at the same time, and he can’t stick around long enough to learn what he might say. “Sleep well.”

“Wait,” Jack says when Nico’s halfway down the hall. “Nico.”

Nico stops. Doesn’t turn around. He waits.

The pause that follows lasts an eternity. Eventually, Jack makes a sound low in the back of his throat, tight and frustrated, and says, “Nothing. See you in the morning.”

“See you in the morning,” Nico echoes dully, and then he crawls into bed without brushing his teeth, curled up on top of the duvet and waiting for the sound of Jack’s feet padding to the guest room before he can fall asleep.

#hrpf for ts #untitled redacted retirement fic project #thanks for the ask!!#yun replies

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your-god-empress-lavender · 1 year

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Permanent removal of hair (experiment)

Alrighty. So, you want to permanently remove hair on your face (or elsewhere I guess) but can't afford/otherwise can't do electrolysis? Well, here's my experiment with this. If anyone wants to attempt it with me, I'd be very happy, but note that there are risks and it also may not work quite as well as you want.

First: If you have a needle, a battery (or better yet, a variable power supply), you can literally just do electrolysis on yourself just like they do commercially. You take the power source (ideally 4.5 volts, but absolutely no higher than 5 and 3 works okay) put the negative side or a wire attached to that side (the anode) somewhere around 3 inches away from where you're planning on doing the electrolysis. You then take the positive side, attach it to a (obviously it needs to be metal) needle. The thinner the better so that it can fit in the follicles better with less stabbing through skin. You carefully put the needle into the follicle and avoid stabbing yourself. If working with 3 volts, leave the needle in for 5-10 seconds or until the pain gets bad. If working with 5 volts, no more than 5 seconds. You just do this to all the hair follicles and then pluck them out. I'd say it barely hurts but I have a relatively high pain tolerance. Having done this to myself, I can guarantee that this works for permanent hair removal but you'll need to do it multiple times for complete success.

Second: (the possibly new method) You'll need baking soda (I used the cheap cleaning grade), boric acid, a power supply (either variable power supply or two 9 volt batteries), a small piece of cloth, two wires, a jar, and tweezers. I'm not positive that the boric acid or baking soda are necessary, you may be able to just use salt or baking soda on their own (but I can't vouch for them as I have not tried). Basically, you dissolve the boric acid and baking soda in water such that the baking soda is saturated (there is still some at the bottom which can't dissolve), then you soak the small cloth in it, wipe the area with the problem hairs with the cloth, re-soak the cloth, lightly squeeze the cloth so that it isn't dripping, wrap the cloth around a section of one of the wires, attach the cloth wire to the positive and the normal wire to the negative, hold the negative in 1 hand and with the other you carefully move the electrified cloth over the hairs. This should preferentially kill the hair follicles as the sodium hydroxide formed at the cathode will attack both the skin and the hair, but if the solution is placed on the face before the electrolysis, the solution will fill up the follicles, allowing for electricity to pass through them. And since the follicles allow for easier transport of electrons than through the skin, most of the electrolysis should be occurring in the follicles. Now, naturally electrolyzing a sodium salt on your face (especially at the 18-21 volts that seems to work best with this) has risks, like chemical burns and dehydrating the skin. In my case at least, I did not notice any negative effects other than dry skin. As of a week after attempting this, there's no regrowth, but that's also kinda expected since plucked hairs don't usually regrow that fast. One very good sign, however, is that the hairs that got electrolyzed were extremely easy to pluck out relative to the ones that weren't. So, even if this process is not a permanent removal technique, it makes plucking hair way easier and less painful. In 8-10 weeks I'll be able to say definitively how well this works. In case it's not obvious, don't do this if you have a pacemaker just in case. Also, a warning: I attempted this while having a septum piercing. Accidentally touching that metal ring with 20 volts was kinda crazy. My vision flashed white and I was left with a headache for the next 8 hours. I'm honestly still mildly concerned about it, but we're probably okay now.

#electrolysis #hair #hair removal #diy #trans diy #electrochem #experiment #trans #transgender #20 volts straight to inside your septum hits like nothing else

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jaybarou · 7 months

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I'm turning some of my most AU fanfics into Original short stories in the hopes of selling them to a publisher. (And thus get some cred to send my CV to Publishers and leave my job)

While I unfic them all, I'll post them here and you can read them with the tag #limited edition. I'll delete them after a few days

<7k words

Freddie is running out of time before the presentation for Stenson Industries and he needs a competent technician yesterday. How fortunate, then, that someone who was waiting and overheard his problem is willing to help.

Freddie burst into the hall and everyone held their breath while the second son of the boss made his way to the head of department. The rest of the employees mourned the poor woman and settled to watch the dismemberment. There were three rules in the company. Number one: Don’t piss off the boss. Rupert was a clever bastard who should have been a lawyer. Number two: Don’t mess with Tim, he was under Rupert’s protection and Rupert would utterly destroy you if you dared contradict the guy. Number three: Keep Freddie as a friend, but only behind Rupert’s back.

Freddie had turned into a tyrant lately. He used to be the most understanding of the three and the one to go to if the others were being unreasonable. The Winter fiasco had taken its toll on him, but even with the new bitterness, he was far more flexible than his relatives and he was your man if you wanted something that was technically off-limits. Going against Freddie was a suicide too, especially after the winter thing. Today Freddie had his ‘I have had a horrid day and I’ll be polite about it until I’m not’ face going on. The head of the department was so doomed.

She didn’t know it yet, though, since Freddie was coming from behind.

“Rosita,” Freddie’s icy tone clued the woman in, so she was properly scared when she turned to face her boss. “May I inquire as to the whereabouts of our IT crew?”

Ow, he was using the big words, he must be royally crossed.

Oh, but the head of department was breathing relieved, she probably had an ace up her sleeve. Anyone who worked at the Intenur Company for longer than a year had to lean to be prepared for their bosses’ moods.

“I alerted them when you asked me; I have sent no less than three messages this week and three more during the morning in anticipation. They assured me that the material would be ready yesterday and that they wouldn’t work on it today.”

Wow! Perfectly deflected blame! And the IT crew wouldn’t have it too bad; they were Tim’s friends. This was not a surprising development all the same; they always messed up Freddie’s tasks, and everyone knew that it wasn’t a coincidence. Tim’s protection was the only explanation as to why they still had a job.

“And the material is there for Tim’s and Rupert’s worthless power points, but I told them there was a compatibility problem with my presentation a week ago.”

“With all due respect, sir, that is not my responsibility.” Rosita had brass balls, or ovaries.

Freddie pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed slowly. “I’m aware; Rosita, but now I need a solution.”

“The other presentations are not causing problems,” she had the cheek to mention.

“Of course not! They are using the company’s system!”

“And why is that a problem? Maybe if you didn’t insist on using your personal computer...”

“It is a problem because it is Pi-21’s stupid technology, Rosita. What kind of impression do you think we will give to Miss Lloid and Mr Stenson if we present our data with their rival’s technology?”

“I’m sure they know by now.” Rosita sent a furtive look at the clients whispering into each other’s ears; a businesswoman and some oil-stained technician. Freddie didn’t spare a look. They were probably gossiping about Freddie’s tantrum; that seemed to be the default these days. Maybe Freddie’s interruption was making them impatient, but Freddie couldn’t care less. He had bigger problems.

“I can’t just transfer my presentation; Pi-21’s software keeps wrecking everything, I could write the transfer code, but not in the next...” Freddie looked at the clock on his mobile. “Not in twenty minutes!”

“I could call the IT crew for you.”

“Today it is Sophie’s shift; she will say that it is my fault, for working with Stenson technology. She only works with simple ‘intuitive’ code like Pi-21’s. I want someone competent!”

One of the two waiting clients approached them.

“I-” he started.

Freddie didn’t give him the chance to complain.

“I’m terribly sorry for the delay, but there is an emergency in the company.” Freddie usually kept his cool like a boss, well, better than the other bosses. He was usually PR’s wet dream, but he could be downright irrational if the situation really got to him. The Winter Project had been proof enough. “Unless you can fix the computers in time, kindly stay put for a few minutes.” The ‘or else’ was implied.

“I certainly could,” the client said cheerfully. Freddie looked at him skeptically.

“But…” Rosita tried to intervene.

“Do you have a solution, Rosita?” Freddie asked.

“Of course she doesn’t, she is a clever girl, Pi-21’s software is not for clever girls. Show me to the problem, Mr Legs.” The man had the gall to walk to the door where Freddie had come from and open it for him.

Freddie regarded the man warily. Twenty minutes. He still had time to look desperately for someone else if the man couldn’t help and fail. “Why not? I’m doomed anyway.” Freddie walked to the door with a sigh.

“But, sir! He is Ryan Stenson!” Too late; the door was closed. “I’m so screwed,” Rosita muttered thinking of the moment when Rupert heard how she had failed to stop Freddie.

Miss Lloid put an understanding hand on her arm; she probably knew a thing or two about trouble with bosses.

Freddie took the man to the conference room where he would have to meet the head of Stenson Industries. He had his custom Stenson laptop there with his presentation and an enormous mess showing on the Pi-21 screen of the company. There wasn’t even an error message, just all the text overlapped with the images and the data, and then it had frozen. If Rupert wasn’t such a resentful man, they’d have Stenson’s holo-displays everywhere instead of that waste of space that Pi-21 called technology. Unfortunately, Rupert would own the company for as long as he lived and Tim would follow his steps like a trained monkey.

The unexpected client-turned-help didn’t ask for permission, he just sat in front of Freddie’s computer as if it was his. He sent a disdainful look at the problematic frozen screen and he turned to Freddie with an amused smile to say: “Let’s start with archaic solutions for archaic technology.” Then the technician crouched to unplug the projector.

“I’ve done exactly the same more than once today.” It was the only way to unfreeze the projector, but Freddie resented the know-it-all attitude of the technician.

The man seemed to take that as a challenge, so he cracked his knuckles and promptly opened the familiar black window of MS-DOS. He started to write while Freddie looked over his shoulder. He was pulling pieces of code that Freddie had not considered, and he didn’t even need to do much after he was done. He just opened the Stenson software for presentations and saved the file that Freddie pointed out in a format that wasn’t there before the man had touched the computer.

The smug bastard had a cheeky smile when he presented Freddie with the pen drive.

Freddie saved all his praise until he plugged the USB drive on the projector and it miraculously worked. The clock on the screen said it had taken the technician… less than five minutes. Freddie was pleasantly surprised; he was going to thank the stranger, but then the presentation played the music that Freddie had saved without hope of it working.

“This thing never plays music, at least never at the same time as the presentation!” He let himself slouch on the chair closest to the projector. The presentation was saved.

“It was just too easy,” the smug technician commented.

“I would have managed with a bit more than twenty minutes,” Freddie said, pride a bit hurt.

“If your coding is as good as your people skills, twenty minutes would have easily become a week of work.”

“What gives you the right to say that?” Freddie protested.

“You have not even asked my name.”

Freddie pursed his lips. Despite having collapsed on the seat, he was tense all over. He had been stressed since he found trouble with the presentation a week ago and predicted more trouble with IT on top of the other preparations. The man was right, he had been snappy and the presentation hadn’t even started yet, so he took the chance to breathe deeply. And to collect his politeness from the depths of despair.

“Excuse my manners, I-”

“Yes, you don’t need my name, just my services,” the man cut him without retracting that annoying smirk of his.

“Fortunately your coding is better than your own people skills, then,” Freddie said, annoyed.

“No, just as good, people love me, I have people skills to spare somewhere, just not today, and I have a lot of class.”

“And what are you implying there exactly?”

“That music in your presentation? Tacky.” Let it be known that Freddie knew when he was being mocked and when he was being teased, he just had more experience with the former.

“I didn’t expect it to work and I can put whatever music I want, because the content is solid.”

“Show me.”

Freddie leaned forward. “What?”

“I said show me!” The technician leaned forward too. “You have time, right? I want to see the monster I helped to create.”

Freddie didn’t have time to reply, because the man stood up, took the remote control from the table, walked in front of the screen and played the presentation. Freddie did have the time now; Stenson should be with Tim and his unproductive dreams of harnessing storms to generate electricity. The technician’s opinion wouldn’t be very enlightening, but this way Freddie would have the chance to check his own presentation one last time.

“This section, why is it so short?” The technician said about the grid connection as he sat on the table. Freddie sat next to him.

It was Freddie’s favorite section, but Rupert didn’t like it, so Freddie had only sneaked a basic idea. He was quite proud of having passed it under the old man’s nose.

“Rupert is old school.” Freddie smirked privately. “He likes the old power plants and he hates Stenson. Hates that his green approach to energy is harming our productivity, and he doesn’t see that an update could benefit both of us. After all, as you see here, we already have a power grid that Stenson wants; we would only have to update the power plants. It would be a great investment, but he doesn’t like it.”

The technician crossed his arms. “He doesn’t like Stenson?”

Freddie laughed. “It is more than dislike. Stenson is the bane of his existence, as Rupert says: who does he think he is, that short-sighted idiot? or whatever short joke he thinks at that moment; apparently the man is quite short.”

“Yes, people say that. Go on.”

“Well, Father always says that Stenson will destroy America, because Forbes might call him a hero but his technology is destroying jobs everywhere, his words, not mine.” Freddie rolled his eyes.

The technician kept playing the presentation and smirked at one of the references.

“That is the project I… saw in a magazine about Stenson. It is not well known, is it? Have you been stalking him or something?”

“I’ve done my research. That high-entropy alloy project is spectacular, but it is not showy enough for the press, or the shareholders, Miss Lloid and he will probably value that Intenur-”

“Your boss is not here, Legs.”

Freddie hesitated for a moment, but the man was smart, he was learning how the Intenur Company worked incredibly fast.

“They will value that I recognize the real potential out of the flashy prototypes for the general public.”

“Are you saying that they lie with their flashy prototypes?”

Freddie looked the technician dead in the eye.

“Of course they do. That’s what marketing is about.”

“Would you tell them that to their face?”

“Of course not. Rupert would behead me if I did something to hamper his deal.”

“Why would he want a deal with a man he hates?”

“I convinced him that he could push his hate aside for the good of the company and to leave a better legacy to Tim.”

“The company, of course, because clean energy and the bigger picture are nothing compared to stock numbers.”

“Obviously you have never discussed it with Rupert. I told him what he needed to hear; I won’t jeopardize the ‘bigger picture’ as you say, by telling him something as feeble as the whole truth.” Freddie leaned his hip against the table. “Then the shareholders gossiped about Stenson and how easy it would be to negotiate some changes with him and Rupert was sold.”

“Huh? And what did they say about Stenson?”

“Why do you ask?”

The technician shrugged and grinned. “Because I want to keep listening to your voice, but I don’t think you’d appreciate me distracting you from the topic.”

Freddie raised an eyebrow at the blatant flirting, but let it slide. “They said that it takes a lot to keep Stenson interested in a single topic unless it is really engaging, but they also told us to use eye-candy to keep him involved.” Freddie allowed himself a private smile, the one that people compared with a snake’s. “Tim called his girlfriend to play the part of eye-candy. She is an expert in the field of his presentation, so he was terribly angry that she was called only for her looks.”

The technician shared his smile with the same subtle touch of cruelty that Freddie found… endearing.

“Maybe you should have read more magazines, and you would know that you put eye-candy in your presentation anyway?”

The technician was looking up and down at Freddie quite obviously. Freddie’s lip twitched and he retreated any endearing thought that had passed through his mind.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean he swings both ways, you know?” Freddie didn’t dignify that with an answer, which was a bad decision, because the technician came back. “Don’t tell me you are one of those bigoted idiots who think bisexuality is just...”

“You are lucky I needed you. That comment would have you in the street by yesterday if you worked here.” Freddie didn’t appreciate being called bigoted; he had enough putting up with Rupert daily trying to keep his second son’s “scandalous ways” in the closet, thank you very much. “I was merely surprised; I don’t think I’ve ever been called eye-candy before.”

“Why the hell not? Do you usually hang out with blind people? Wait, Rupert is the guy with the eye-patch, right? Does that count as half-blind?”

“That is very insensitive of you.” Freddie chastised, but his twitching lip was persistent. He would love to say it was annoyance, but deep down he knew it was amusement.

“Let me guess; that comment would put me in the street by yesterday if I worked here. How lucky that I don’t actually work here, don’t you think?” The man had no sense of self-reservation. “And let me tell you, if your definition of eye-candy is allowed to have brains, you totally qualify, take it from an expert in eye-candyness.”

“An expert.” Freddie deadpanned with only a badly concealed hint of interest showing.

“An expert indeed! I look into the mirror every day, after all.”

Freddie pretended to think seriously, looking the technician up and down on his spot sitting on the table. He was indeed quite handsome, but Freddie was not going to make the same mistake twice and appreciate a man within Rupert’s earshot. “No, I don’t really see it.” Despite the words, Freddie sent a challenging look at the technician that contradicted is words, just in case the presentation went well and Freddie decided to celebrate when he went home.

“I’ll have you know I look amazing in a suit, in any suit, or with nothing at all, I’m only wearing the workshop uniform to piss… my friend off. Hell, I could wear a corset and stockings and I’d still look hot as-”

Freddie’s phone pinged. He put a hand up to make the technician stop for a moment while he read Tim’s message and his face fell a little.

“Apparently the eye-candy won’t be necessary after all. Tim says that Stenson didn’t come; it was only Miss Lloyd in his presentation, and apparently she is headed here.” Freddie looked at the clock. “Early. You should probably leave, ask Rosita anything you want at the front desk and tell her I approved it. She’ll make an invoice if necessary.”

“Unless she’s giving me your phone number I’m staying.”

Freddie glared at the man.

“What? Pi-21’s technology is famously unreliable as fuck. What if you suddenly need a dashing hero to help you?”

Freddie glared harder.

“I told you that I wanted to keep hearing you; what makes you think you’ll get rid of me anytime soon?”

Unfortunately for Freddie, Rosita showed Miss Lloyd into the conference room at that exact moment and Freddie had to put on his public mask and shake hands with the woman. Lloyd excused Stenson for not coming. She said something about a last moment change of plans; she also said that her chief engineer was prone to last-minute impulses and ideas while sending a look at the technician by Freddie’s side. There was no polite way to get rid of the man in front of Lloyd, though, and the man knew it. So he rolled on with his presence and ignored Ms Lloyd’s look. She’d have to suffer his presence too.

Freddie would have said something scathing about Stenson’s absence, but his lips were sewn as long as there was a possibility of a deal on the horizon.

The presentation ended up being a disaster and it was the technician’s fault. He kept interrupting Freddie and addressing Ms Lloyd directly, to Freddie’s chagrin. Freddie couldn’t explain the man’s presence now and he couldn’t just throw him away in front of Ms Lloyd. His comments were on point, but Miss Lloyd wouldn’t appreciate that someone that Freddie had not even introduced interrupted like that. Also, Freddie had prepared the presentation with Stenson in mind, he didn’t know as much about the discrete CEO.

A complete disaster.

Ms Lloyd left the room an hour later to speak with Rupert and as soon as the door closed behind her, Freddie collapsed on one of the rolling chairs. The technician was giggling like Freddie’s career wasn’t crumbling before his eyes.

“That was brilliant!”

“No it wasn’t. You were interrupting!”

“I assure you she won’t mind, she is used to much worse.” And as an afterthought he added, “probably.”

“Even if that is true, I don’t think Rupert will see it your way.”

Freddie wallowed a bit more in his misery before the technician derailed his train of thought.

“If Stenson had known what kind of presentation you had in your hands, he wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

“I guess we will never know.”

“Hey! I’m telling you! I’m sure!”

Freddie huffed sarcastically, but the technician was having none of it. “How come you know about a small project of Stenson but you ignore the most basic things that everybody knows about him?” He had an elbow planted on the table and his teasing tone was both baffled and soft at the same time.

“When I started to investigate I didn’t know he was a celebrity. When I realized he was, I did everything in my power to avoid yellow-press literature. It’s just too unreliable, and it would poison my own vision.” Freddie was defensive over his choices. “I think that reading his papers is enough. Don’t you think?”

“You have read his papers?” His eyebrows lifted briefly.

“And patents. Of course.”

“But most of his patents have nothing to do with clean energy, why would you read those too?”

“He is quite inventive; the material innovations were clean solutions. Masterpieces in a field that still managed to convey how his mind works. You can follow his thought process by-”

“Reverse engineering?” The technician ended his phrase. Freddie didn’t like how surprised he looked.

“I might come across as Rupert’s left hand, and the convenient scapegoat but I assure you that I’m more than the company’s tool.”

“I don’t know you,” the technician showed his hands conciliatory. “Maybe you should show me how much more you are.”

“Don’t play with me. It is not a good moment.” Freddie regarded the technician; he wouldn’t be trouble. “I planned today’s meeting with a high risk to my career, things are already terrible as they are.

“Why risk so much? You would have convinced The CEO of Pi-21 instead easily.”

“First, no matter what Intenur does, I only deal with the best and second… Well, I was looking forward to meeting him in person.”

“Why?”

“That is not your concern.” Freddie knew he had said the wrong thing, because now this man’s interest was piqued.

“Awww, how cute, you have a crush on him!”

“What? No! I don’t know him!”

“Yes you do, why would you bother otherwise?”

Freddie was done with that conversation, but he was starting to remember that this technician was supposed to be a client who was owed an apology for getting dragged into this whole mess, so he ended up answering in defeat.

“His research into AIs. There is speculation about him having made great leaps, but he covers it with zeal. It’s been years since he last published on the subject and I think it is because he made something spectacular.”

“His AIs... You are a nerd, aren’t you?” The technician-maybe-still-client laughed. “Why would you want to know about that and not his super-amazing robotics sowcase?”

“Because… Well, I have a couple of AIs myself, and as I developed them beyond what we currently know about AIs... I understood that I would never expose them to the public, no matter the sum offered. You wouldn’t understand, it is a strange connection with something that you’ve created that sounds… ridiculous. A program…” Freddie shrugged. “Tim says it is unhealthy, being attached to a few lines of code. But I found that I want the best for them and to make sure they cause no harm either.” He turned to watch the man warily. “And you won’t make me feel ashamed of it.”

“Perish the thought.”

“Any joke about cyberphilia and I’ll make sure nobody finds your body.”

Freddie could see the alternative joke forming in the technician’s mind, but before he could brace himself, the communication system came to life and Rupert’s voice filled the room.

“Freddie, Ms Lloyd has left the building without a closed agreement. Your plan has failed! and the company will suffer for it!”

“Maybe if Tim’s presentation hadn’t been so bland, Ms Lloyd would have been more interested in that agreement.”

“Your brother’s proposal was bland because you let him down, to do your own thing, like you always do. I hope you are proud of yourself! I should have known that you would make this deal a failure. Do you know how much time I put into this? Time I don’t have, Freddie! Time I can’t waste if you can’t even make Stenson come to listen to us.”

“You can’t blame me for that too. He is the one who decided not to come.”

“I warned you, my son. That little man isn’t worth a single minute of our time. Now, you will make sure this has been your last failure, you will forget about this venture or, as much as it pains me to say this, you will leave the company.”

Freddie’s blood went cold. His whole world darkened around the corners, all of him was focused on that speaker. Leave the company?

“Sir, negotiations have only started; it was almost six months until we convinced Vanestia co. to sell the company. We could still strike a deal with Stenson Industries in that time.” Freddie tried to hide how much it hurt him to think of giving up on this opportunity.

“No, son.”

The communication system died and Freddie held his breath. Rupert had never been so direct, he always insinuated and implied that Freddie was a waste of time and space that should only help to make Tim climb higher, but he was never this blunt. Rupert knew how to make Freddie stay by the company’s side and Freddie tried to earn the same respect as his brother, well, his not-blood-brother, as Freddie had discovered during the last project. His efforts had been less and less effective since the winter affair.

Of course, Freddie had suspected that Rupert favored Tim; it was plain to see, but Freddie had expected to overcome that favoritism with hard work or trickery. Apparently nothing was enough, nothing would ever be enough. What was the sense in trying anymore? Freddie should give up, leave Intenur definitely before being pushed out. But what would he do? He had worked there his whole life; there was nothing he could do now. Other companies hated Freddie because he had inconvenienced them in favor of Intenur. There was nothing to do. No solution. Nothing.

“Hey, ravenlocks? Someone home?” Freddie looked up to the Technician. Freddie had been still looking at the loudspeaker for a few seconds after it disconnected. Without the man’s interruption, he would have kept falling for a long time, he was sure of it. “After that, you look like you need a drink.”

“I won’t have a career by tomorrow morning. I think I need more than a drink.”

“You need to stop thinking before you give yourself an aneurysm, pretty thing, and I know just the place.”

Freddie wouldn’t be needed anymore that day. Maybe ever, if Rupert was to be believed. Freddie could just… Let go. There was a chance that Rupert would want him to be there, but if Freddie only did what Rupert told him, he’d stay put quietly in a closet until the old man had use for him. Therefore, and to spite Rupert if he actually called, he sneaked out of the building with the technician, who still avoided saying his name claiming that Freddie had had his moment to ask and that the moment was gone.

Freddie wanted… Freddie didn’t know what he wanted now, but he was on the verge of wanting to find a cliff, which was probably bad for his continued existence. Being alone now would be his worst decision to date, so he let himself be dragged away. The technician made inappropriate jokes and kept the self-destructive feelings at bay, so Freddie decided to cling to the man until he felt better or until he found something better to cling to.

They drove through New York like a pair of clueless tourists and they hit all the bars in what Freddie had named ‘A list of the most outrageous places’. It seemed like the technician knew his way around a good number of holes in the wall.

Once there was enough alcohol intaken, Freddie answered the Technician’s questions very easily. He had always been quite private about the family part of the business, and he had never spoken badly of it, but nothing had been the same after the winter collapse. The company had lost his respect; the family had lost his respect. And today Freddie’s career had crumbled down; sometime after the sixth drink he had realized that he didn’t really have any career to speak of. All his skill set was built around making Intenur work. He didn’t have a job description; he embodied all the spare parts of the well-tuned machine of Intenur. He was… a puppet, even though he was the spine of the company… the spine of the machine… maybe he should stop mixing metaphors, or drinks, maybe he should stop mixing drinks.

In between realizations, Freddie had decided that there was nothing to lose if he talked with the technician. He wouldn’t get into more trouble and he would finally get it off his chest, even if the man didn’t believe him, so he told the cheerful and rather handsome mysterious man about the project Rupert had in the works to create energy out of cold.

The man had laughed loudly enough to startle the other tables and the sound had pleased a petty and vindictive part of Freddie.

It was a senseless monstrosity called Productive Winters; a stupidity, of course, anyone with basic knowledge of thermodynamics would know it: it was a ruse to keep some clueless, idiot, brain-dead shareholders interested, but Freddie’s brother had wanted to put it into practice. Tim had been in charge of the company while Rupert was recovering from an eye operation in some spiritual retreat center. One of the mildly intelligent shareholders, Mr Ludwig, had suspected that the whole thing was a huge lie and Tim didn’t take kindly to being called a liar.

Freddie had been in charge of damage control. Mr Ludwig had been dealt with, but the problem was far from over. Both Rupertsons fought over the path to take and Freddie destroyed the project behind Tim’s back so it would never see the light of day and uncover Intenur as scammers or worse: idiots. In doing that, Freddie broke the shareholder’s trust and when Rupert found out, he ordered the PR department to make Freddie into the jealous villain who wanted more power in the company, to save face.

In that click-bait story that Rupert’s PR department fed to the newspapers, Tim was the magnanimous, kind brother who took Freddie in back again despite his ‘treason’. The story was heartwarming enough to save Intenur in the stock market and there was everybody’s happy ending. Freddie had been willing to sacrifice his public image to save the company, but he had never realized how much of himself he was giving away. Now he saw it as it was: a cage of his own making.

Intenur was the place where Freddie could live until he retired if only he submitted to Rupert’s rule. Only now, after decades of loyalty and sacrifice, did Freddie realize that he was considered chaotic and a liar in the larger world of business. Freddie had been pleased to take the burn of any problem in the company; it was not as if he would ever need to have references outside of Intenur. But now he had nowhere to go. He had built his own golden cage one bar at a time and Rupert had provided the tools all too happily.

His only chance of staying away from this was his mother. He could still try to find her wherever she had escaped from Rupert and beg forgiveness. She would receive him with open arms, but after years of defending his father and brother, Freddie couldn’t bring himself to concede defeat, the shame was too great.

The lack of flavor in his latest drink made Freddie realize that he had a bottle of water in his hand and that he had been complaining out loud. The technician was still next to him; he had two untouched colorful glasses in front of him and a boozed smirk. It took Freddie’s alcohol-filled brain a few seconds to realize that the man must have been the one to change the glass for the bottle of water, but the reason eluded Freddie.

The feeling must have shown on his face.

“Believe me, you will hate yourself tomorrow enough as it is. You don’t want to worsen your prospective hangover.”

Freddie took another sip of the bottle. They were in a nook away from prying looks. It was comfortable. He wasn’t sure of what he had said and what he had only thought, but the technician had a strange, mellow look, so the silent part had probably been very small. Freddie prided himself in knowing facial expressions, but he didn’t know enough about the man, and he couldn’t concentrate on his face beyond the basic features.

“Why don’t you try to work abroad, my emo friend?”

The technician had slipped an arm around his shoulders. Freddie didn’t even care when; he was very very focused on the face in front of him. He was going to read that face, he knew he could if he tried enough.

“It is not the job, it is me. If they don’t fire me, I’m leaving tomorrow.” He sighed. It had always been him, hadn’t it?

“From where I stand, it is them.”

“You don’t understand.”

“I do! I do I do! Who do you think sinks the market points in my company?” The technician seemed to be quite drunk too, he wouldn’t have shared anything personal otherwise. Freddie was watching the corner of his lips; there was a tell when people lied… or was that the corner of the eyes? It didn’t matter, because Freddie kept getting distracted with the rest of the lips. “A company I didn’t ask for, too! A goddamned company that has almost killed me more times than I care to count.”

“Yes, Intenur is killing me slowly too.”

“And all because I had to carry on some kind of legacy, stepping on the heads of giants or something like that. It is what my father used to say to the ladies when my mother wasn’t around.”

“Wait, you have a company,” Freddie said unwisely. “And it was your father’s.”

“Ok, story time. My father built the company…” The man slumped against his seat. “No, I don’t think I’m up for story time.”

“What?” Freddie realized that he had scooted closer, to listen. Not because the warmth was nice and distracting. “You must tell me something, I told you a lot of things, now you owe me.”

“Since when are stories currency?”

“Since I want them, and you want me to stay, so I will have my stories.” Freddie hung his head back, supported by the nook’s headrest and closed his eyes. He opened one of them in what he hoped was a discrete move. He was not sure he was being successful. The man had that drunken smirk and his eyes half-lidded, as if Freddie’s gesture had made him sleepy in turn.

“Spoiled brat. Have it your way.”

The man said something about a company, a step-father? a story that seemed made to fit an action script, and Freddie was not sure why he kept mentioning the son of Sten. Freddie didn’t know, and only half of it could be blamed on the soft buzz in his head; the bastard was being cagey on purpose. He had the feeling that something in his brain was demanding he pay attention. He knew that story b- What if he is a corporate spy? The thought had already crossed his mind a hundred times during the day when he decided to let the man help with the presentation. He had ruled it out because… because of logic at the time. Logic that was not currently accessible.

Even though he didn’t know exactly what the man was talking about, he got the feeling that he was sad and Freddie had something to do with it. Oh! He was telling Freddie something sad about his company, or his family, or both, because Freddie had made him sad too.

“Hmm. I had planned to celebrate with you, not this.” Freddie most definitely didn’t whine.

“Don’t look at me! I’m the party king! I’m never a sad drunk! It is all your faul-hmpfmm.”

Freddie only knew that he had finally seen the sadness behind the smiling lips, and he had decided that he didn’t like it. The man was sad, he was also sad and they could make each other less sad, so the only answer to that was a kiss, obviously. Obviously? Huh. There was something about two negatives floating in his head, but logic was still not available.

For a delightful moment he wasn’t thinking about anything but the sensation of the other man’s lips against his, the sweetness of his latest drink, the tickling of his beard… He plunged deeper into not thinking when the technician responded by pressing and holding his neck first with one hand, but then he moved to sit on his lap and cradled his nape. Nothing mattered now, especially not when he sneaked an arm around his waist and pulled them closer together.

The water bottle and the time listening to the man had helped to clear his head moderately, so his brain had enough presence to kick in when he felt the man’s hand pushing him away. He let it happen, not without regret. The technician looked regretful too; he was breathing deeply as if he could get rid of the desire in his chest that way.

“Look, let’s stop here. Because tomorrow this will be very… interesting, but if we end up in my room…”

“Mmno,” Freddie protested and hid his face in the other’s neck. He felt the jawbone and cheek against him pressing back. “If I don’t work there, you can go back to being the client tomorrow and this would mean nothing.”

The hand that had been on his neck was still over there playing with his hair. “I’m not going back either. I shouldn’t make decisions right now, but I’m thinking of poaching one of their workers and be done with them.”

Freddie’s smile couldn’t be seen from his position, but it was audible. “You are lucky I don’t work there anymore, or I would have destroyed you for saying that.”

“You still work there.”

“Not mentally, no.”

“You made up your mind, then?”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do, but whatever I do, it’s going to be easier to decide if I don’t go back to Intenur. Beyond that… No idea.”

“I know exactly what you are going to do.”

Freddie emerged from his hiding spot, regretting not being able to kiss that neck. “You think so?”

The man climbed off of Freddie’s lap, but he didn’t back away from his personal space.

“Go to sleep.” He leaned on the backrest, trapping Freddie’s arm. But Freddie didn’t mind keeping it around the tech’s waist. “And once you have slept the hangover away, you are going to call me.”

“You are very sure of yourself.”

“You would be too if you were in my place.”

“If I were in your place I wouldn’t have stopped this.”

“Yes, you would.” The tech called the waiter over and asked for a pen, then leaned against Freddie’s chest for balance and took to writing on his white shirt, left side, close to the collar.

“Are you going to pay for this when I take it to the cleaners?

“I’ll be happy to, because you’d have to call me for that. And you’d have to use this number.”

After a few numbers Freddie was not ready to guess by feeling alone, the man paused for a moment, squinted while looking at Freddie’s face and went back to his task, but higher, closer to his neck.

The silence while he wrote was meditative. Freddie could still draw circles with his thumb on the man’s hip and he still squirmed very sweetly.

“Maybe I could leave the country, as you said,” Freddie wondered aloud.

“Call me first,” the man mumbled while capping the pen. He waved over the same waiter, gave back the pen and paid before Freddie could protest.

“Maybe I could start my own company,” Freddie kept daydreaming.

“Call me first,” the man insisted. He got close to Freddie’s ear. “We have much to talk about.”

Freddie woke up only a few hours later with his mobile in his hand. First, an alarm. He dismissed it. Then there was a 5% battery warning in red. He dismissed it. When the warning closed, he squinted at a perfectly composed e-mail, addressed at Rupert, cc’d at Tim, where he told them that he was leaving Intenur in not the politest terms. It was unsent.

He thanked his luck and the version of himself that had been too tired or too out of it to send the mail (but not too tired to spell asinine). He would have hated waking up only to see that email marked as sent.

He pressed send.

It was much more satisfying to do it when he was going to keep the memory of doing it intact.

He found the charger cord that he had failed to use the previous night. The phone died just before he could plug it in, but it was better that way anyway. He had no desire to dodge family calls for hours.

He turned to leave the mobile on the nightstand and he hugged his pillow, ready for some lazy extra rest now that he didn’t have a job to go back to.

Before tiredness could do him in, his eyes fell on the shirt that he had taken off the previous night and had discarded on the floor by the bed. It was no longer prim and proper, and from where he was, he could see a few numbers, written just an inch below the collar. The memory of the last night and the technician brought a smile to his face that was almost enough to wake him up all the way.

He stretched one foot to drag the shirt from the floor, grab it and memorize the number, or maybe write it down somewhere, but once he had the fabric in his hands, he noticed that over the phone number, under the shirt’s collar, there was more. He could see a “R”. Finally, a name! He flipped the collar up.

“Ryan Stenson xxx”

He threw the shirt across the room and rolled the other way, groaning into his pillow.

#limited edition

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justsomerandomfanfic · 2 years

Text

Your Song - Eddie Munson x Female Reader - November 29th

Title: Your Song

Eddie Munson X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Robin, Nancy, Steve, Will, El, Max, Lucas (Mentioned), Erica, Mike (Mentioned), Luella (OC), Murray, Joyce (Mentioned), Hopper (Mentioned), Reader's mother, Steve's parents (Mentioned), Dustin, Mrs. Henderson (Mentioned), Mrs. Sinclair (Mentioned), Max's Mom (Mentioned), Eddie's Uncle (Mentioned), and Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler (Mentioned)

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 |

WC: 3,895

Warnings: Reader has a mother, Reader wears a dress, Reader wears a veil and tiara, teasing, Eddie lives, insecure Eddie, slight angst, cuteness, and fluff

"I can't believe it. You're getting married." Robin sighed, as she, you, and Nancy walked down the sidewalk toward the small wedding dress shop.

You sighed dreamingly, "I know. I can't believe it either. Only a couple more weeks." You replied, arms looped with Robin and Nancy's.

"Are you excited?" Nancy asked, only for you to nod back.

"Of course, I'm marrying the love of my life."

"I can't even believe Steve's parents are paying for this," Robin said in disbelief.

Your family was great friends with Steve's parents. They were friends in high school and had always made sure you were doing alright, which surprised you since they hardly did that with Steve.

"Well, I think it's nice of them, you get to pick any dress you like," Nancy stated happily.

You hummed as Robin held the store's door open for you, "I don't want to take advantage of their generosity. I won't buy anything too expensive." You frowned slightly, “I wish they could’ve made it.”

Robin nodded, "Wise. But don't let it stop you from getting that dream dress."

"Of course. You know, my mother once said that when she looked in the mirror in her dress, she just knew." Nancy commented as the lady employee walked up to you.

She gave the three of you a smile before speaking, "Welcome to Brides Beauty, I'm Luella. Now, who's our lovely bride?" She asked, clasping her hands together in front of herself, eyeing the three of you expectedly.

"I am." You reply, waving slightly.

The lady smiled at you before gesturing her head forward and walking behind the counter, "This way please."

Nancy and Robin trailed after you as you followed the lady towards the dressing rooms, where the dresses were placed. Gesturing to a couch, she asked you to sit, before grabbing a small clipboard and pen.

"Who's your company for today?" She asked, pointing to Robin and Nancy with the tip of her pen.

"My best friends, Robin and Nancy."

Luella nodded to the two, "It's nice to meet you, ladies. Alright, tell me about the wedding and I'll find you the perfect dress."

You fidgeted in your seat, "Well, we're having the ceremony in this small park near Cherry street, it's a black and white theme. My bouquet is made with white roses and black barlows. It's a rather simple wedding. Nothing too big, just my family, his uncle, and our friends. Less than thirty people in total, I think."

Luella smiled and jotted something down on the paper before speaking, "Now, who's the groom?" She asked, "Tell me about him, how did you meet?" She asked, as you smiled and leaned back against the couch slightly as you thought back.

"I've known him since the end of elementary school. I saw him sitting alone and asked if he wanted to be my friend. Later I sat with him at lunch and shared half my sandwich with him. And we've been together ever since." You explained as Luella smiled and wrote more on the sheet.

"Alright," She exclaimed, looking up at you, "I think I have the perfect dress for you." She spoke before leading you to the changing room.

You stood patiently as Luella as she looked through the many dresses on their hangers before grabbing one and passing it to you.

"If you need any help, just holler." She spoke, before gently pushing you into the changing room.

You held the dress out in front of you, hidden inside a plastic bag. You unzipped the bag, sliding it off the dress carefully. Pulling out the dress, you gasped softly. It was gorgeous. It was a perfect white, made out of satin. The sleeves were slightly puffed and the neckline wasn't too high or too low. Taking it off the hanger, you immediately tried it on. The dress fitted you perfectly. The skirt flowed around you gracefully, hugging your body tightly as the hem touched the floor. You twirled in front of the small mirror in the changing room, smiling to yourself. Stepping out of the small room, you gained Luella's attention.

When she saw you she squealed in delight. She grabbed two boxes from under the counter, handing them over to you. Opening it slowly, you pulled out the veil and a small tiara. Luella secured the veil before placing the small tiara down upon your head. Standing back, Luella sighed in delight as she admired her work.

"Perfect. Are you ready to show them?" She asked and you didn't hesitate and nodded.

Your heart pounding, you stepped out into the main room again, Robin's eyes widening as her jaw dropped, and Nancy gasping audibly as you entered.

"Y/N, you look amazing!" Robin gushed excitedly as she took in your appearance.

You blushed slightly and smiled softly, "Thank you, Robin."

"Incredibly beautiful. That dress is lovely." Nancy agreed as tears stung your eyes and your cheeks grew warm.

"Here," Luella interrupted, handing you a tissue, "Do you like it?" She asked as you dried your tears.

"I love it." You smiled sweetly, "How much is it?" You asked, turning to Luella.

"Well, the veil is free of charge, the crown is ten dollars and the dress is twenty-eight." She answered, making your heart plummet.

"Twenty-eight?" You asked and Luella nodded her head.

"That's right. Is that alright?" She asked as you looked at Robin and Nancy.

They stared back up at you, eyes bright as were the smiles on their faces.

"Yes, that's more than alright." You replied. Yes, it was a lot of money, but Steve's parents were paying. They did tell you that you could spend as much as you wish. Excitement filled you again as your stomach fluttered with butterflies.

~~~

On the other side of town, Eddie, Steve, and Dustin were walking through a small clothing store. Eddie didn't have enough money for a suit, and when Steve told him his parents would pay for it, Eddie politely declined. He didn't want to use their money. He wanted to wear what he was comfortable wearing. You and Eddie had planned it years before he even proposed. You had told Eddie many times that you didn't really care what he wore to his wedding. It was his wedding after all. Eddie already had a good pair of black jeans that weren't ripped, he just needed a nice black button-up, and the rest he could wing. Dustin even said he'd let him borrow his bowtie.

"We are looking for a black button-up right?" Dustin asked for the third time that hour, making Steve and Eddie roll their eyes.

"Yes, Henderson." They both answered simultaneously.

"Okay, geez." Dustin mumbled, "I'll look over this way." He spoke before leaving.

Eddie bit his lip as he ruffled through the hung shirts on the bar, the metal squeaking as he pushed the metal hangers against it.

"What's wrong, man?" Steve asked, noticing Eddie's worried expression.

Eddie didn't say anything at first, his mouth opening and closing, then finally settling. "I'm scared, Steve. I'm worried she might back out... I mean, I wouldn't want to marry me either." He admitted, looking down to avoid eye contact with Steve.

Steve frowned, placing his hand on Eddie's shoulder, "Dude, do you really think she'd do that?"

Eddie shook his head with a sigh, "No. But, I just don't see why she's marrying me." Eddie confessed. "I'm nothing special. And... She's perfect."

Steve chuckled, "Eddie..."

Eddie snapped his gaze toward Steve, "What? This isn't funny, Steve. I'm serious! What if she finds someone better? Then she might change her mind. If she does leave me..."

Steve sighed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Dude, she's obsessed with you. And, you've been together for what? Ten years? You're perfect for each other. Don't worry about this, okay? Trust me. She'd never leave you for some other guy." Steve stated, before giving Eddie a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder.

Eddie smiled slightly before he found the plain black button-up.

~~~

"Are you sure everything is ready? Everything is perfect? Everyone's here, El was able to make it?" You asked rushed as Nancy fixed up your hair.

Robin nodded, "Yeah, El's here, same with Will, Jonathan, and Mrs. Byers. Even that Murray guy is here. The girls are getting ready with Mrs. Byers and Mrs. Henderson."

You let out a breath, brushing down your dress skirt, "Okay, good. They're ready, right? Do the dresses fit? How's Max feeling? Is she doing okay?" Your mind raced as you worried.

Nancy laughed lightly, "Calm down. Everything is fine. Relax." She reassured you.

You glanced up at her as you finished tying up your hair and smoothed down the skirt, "Thank you, Nancy, I appreciate your help. Both of your help. You guys are the best Maids of Honor ever."

She smiled, leaning forward and hugging you tightly, Robin coming over to do the same.

"It's time," Robin said as she let go of you, adjusting her black suit lapels. "Are you ready?" She asked.

You smiled brightly, nodding, "Of course! I'm freaking getting married." You then looked to the door, biting your lip. "It's so tempting to see him." You mumbled, only for Nancy to shake her head.

"You remember what your mother said. She said that if you were going to marry anyone, you'd do that whole waiting to see each other."

You sighed, pouting slightly, "But I wanna see him. I bet he looks so handsome right now. So close, yet so far away."

"He's literally in the room across the hall. You’ll see him in an hour." Robin laughed, "Now, where are your flowers?"

~~~

"Dude, you look fine, stop messing around." Dustin scolded Eddie as the young groom fidgeted with the chain on his black jeans.

"Should I have the sleeves unzipped or zipped?" Eddie asked, biting his lip as he looked in the mirror in Steve's room.

"Unzipped." Both Dustin and Steve answered, "Do you have the rings?" Steve asked Dustin, who nodded.

Dustin reached into his pocket pulling out two small boxes. Opening them, Eddie let out a sigh of relief. The rings were the only thing that Steve insisted his parents also pay for. Eddie was thankful he had Steve, the rings were perfect. Simple, yet perfect. His ring was just a thick silver band. And yours, yours was a thin silver band with one diamond in the center and two smaller diamonds on either side. Eddie picked it out with the help of Robin.

"Good, thank you, Henderson," Eddie said, "We should head out, right? It's almost three." Eddie spoke as Steve checked his watch, nodding.

"Yeah, we have to go now, so the ladies can go," Steve spoke, before opening his bedroom door slightly, and peeking out. "Alright, the coast is clear, let's go."

Eddie followed Steve and Dustin out until he paused. He stared at your door, hearing your voice muffled behind it. He swallowed thickly. He missed you so much. So, so much. He couldn't wait till he saw you. "Love you, Y/N!" He called out to you from the hall.

You immediately perked up, eyes widening as did your smile as you rushed to the door, "Love you too, Eddie!" You called back to him.

Eddie smiled before he walked down the stairs, and went to the van, Steve, Dustin, Mike, and Lucas were already inside. Hopping into the driver's seat, Eddie started the van, pulled out of the driveway, and began his drive to the small park near Cherry street.

~~~

"Alright, they left, let's head out," Nancy spoke after she made sure the boys were gone.

Holding the skirt of your dress up, you walked down the stairs, walking out the door and to Nancy's car. Unable to contain the smile on your face, you bit your lip as Nancy started the car and began driving.

Upon their arrival, Robin helped you out of the car, your eyes quickly spotting the giant canopy. Inside, you knew Eddie was in there.

Max, El, Erica, and Will rushed up to you. Smiles on their faces as they awed over you.

"You look so pretty!" Max gushed, as El nodded.

"Like a princess." She added, their dresses, in a pale blue, matched each other.

"You look very beautiful, Y/N." Will complimented you, as Erica nudged him, her pastel yellow dress skirt swaying as she did so.

"You mean she’s everything." She corrected him, making him nod. “She’s everything.”

You smiled at the four, "Thank you, you guys. You all look amazing as well by the way. Love your tie, Will. Purple suits you. You have the rings right?" You asked, and the young teen nodded, pulling the two boxes out of his pocket.

"Good, you'll be the best ring bearer ever." You spoke, making Will straighten his shoulders and smile with pride.

"Well, let's go over this once more. Erica, you go down and toss the petals, then Will walks down, then it's me. Alright?" You double-checked and all four kids nodded. You smiled, "Good, thank you guys again. I'll make sure to buy you guys some ice cream after all this." You teased before your mother quickly approached you, dressed in a soft pink dress.

She quickly took you in her arms, sniffling. "My baby's all grown up." She whimpered happily, letting go of the hug.

"You look stunning, my darling," She complimented, making you smile.

"Thank you, mom." You said gently, trying not to cry.

"Okay, don’t cry, don’t cry.” She muttered, mostly to herself than you. “Are you ready?" She asked, looping her arm with yours as she fixed your veil.

"More than."

Robin quickly turned on the speaker, making sure it was connected before she started the recording of the wedding march. Slowly, the canopy's curtains moved aside and you spotted Eddie from under your veil. He was standing there, waiting for you, his eyes wide and jaw dropped as your mother led you down the aisle towards the archway where he stood. As you neared him, Eddie slowly smiled, his eyes tearing up. You passed Robin your flowers before Eddie took your hands in his. You smiled up at him as you both stood at the arch, waiting for the ceremony to begin. You heard people whispering amongst themselves, though you didn't bother listening to what anyone was saying as they all sat back down. All you could focus on was Eddie, smiling proudly at you as he stared down at you.

"You look beautiful, babe." He whispered, making you blush as you giggled softly.

"Thank you, you don't look half bad either." You teased before Murray cleared his throat.

"Ladies, gentlemen, family, friends. We are gathered here today to celebrate the union between Eddie Munson and Y/N L/N." Murray announced, "Eddie, please state your vows."

Eddie smiled down at you before he reached into his pocket and grabbed a small piece of paper, unfolding it as he cleared his throat. "Y/N..." He began, and you smiled softly, noticing how nervous he was. "I am nothing short of in love with you. The moment I laid eyes upon you, I fell deeply in love. I still can't believe someone as sweet, smart, and incredibly beautiful as you would like someone like me. We've been through so much together, fights, demobats, and everything else. There's nothing I wouldn't give you. You make me want to be better, smarter, braver, and happier. Every day I want to wake up next to you and spend the rest of our lives with each other. I promise to cherish every moment that I get to spend with you. You're my everything, and I promise to always love and protect you." He smiled down at you, his brown eyes shimmering with tears. Taking another deep breath, Eddie continued. "I love you, Y/N, and I'll never stop loving you." He finished as you wiped away some of your tears.

Murray smiled before turning to you, "Y/N... Your vows."

You nodded, turning back to Nancy who passed you your paper. "Eddie... My Eddie Spaghetti." The small crowd laughed softly as Eddie blushed, "Ever since I saw you alone at recess, I knew you were going to be my best friend. No matter what happened, you always stuck around. Through thick and thin, even when you didn't agree with me. You never gave up on me, and never stopped believing in me. I will love you forever. I promise to stay by your side, always. I hope you know that I am grateful to call you mine. Mine to laugh and cry with. I love you with all my heart, Eddie." You sniffled, tears running down your cheeks and Eddie's. "And, by the way, you owe me a sandwich." You laughed wetly, Eddie and the guests doing the same.

Murray tried to hide his sniffles before he spoke, "Will, the rings?"

Will walked over, handing both you and Eddie each other's rings. Eddie placed your ring on your finger as you did the same for him.

"Now, Eddie Munson, do you take Y/N L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?" Murray asked as Eddie nodded.

"I do," Eddie spoke with a soft smile.

"Y/N L/N... Do you take Eddie Munson to be your lawfully wedded husband?" Murray spoke again.

You looked up at Eddie, grinning widely as he returned your smile, "I do," You confirmed, your voice determined.

"With the power vested in me and the state of Indiana, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride." Murray grinned.

Eddie smiled, leaning forward, unveiling you as he held onto your chin, kissing you. You melted against his lips as you cupped his face. Everyone clapped and cheered, as Ed pulled away, his eyes still shining brightly. Your fingers played with the ends of his hair, as he leaned down once again, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He pulled away once more, resting his forehead against yours. After a few moments, he finally pulled away completely.

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Munson!" Murray exclaimed, grinning as the couple chuckled.

A tear escaped your eye as you gazed up at Eddie in adoration and happiness. Eddie leaned down, capturing your lips once more, savoring your taste as he felt your hand cup the back of his head. Pulling away once more, Robin handed back your bouquet as Eddie grabbed your hand, walking down the aisle with you. You passed Hopper, a fond smile on his face as he clapped, Joyce beside him wiping her tears away. Jonathan beside her, smiled as he took pictures with his camera. Mrs. Henderson was balling as Mrs. Wheeler consoled her with more tissues as Mr. Wheeler clapped. On the other side, Eddie's uncle gave you and his nephew a thumbs up and smile. Max's mom was dabbing her tears away with a small admiring smile on her face as Mrs. Sinclair clapped. Lastly, your mother wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, before going back to cheering.

Stopping at the canopy entrance, you looked back with a smirk as El, Max, Nancy, and Erica gathered waiting for you to throw your bouquet. Turning back around, you tossed your flowers back, looking back you watched as the flowers seemed to fall in slow motion as they landed right onto Joyce's lap. Surprised, she looked at the flowers in her lap, glancing at you, to Hopper, and back. Hopper cleared his throat, seemingly embarrassed.

"Yay, Joyce and dad are next!" She squealed, grabbing Max's arm with excitement.

Steve looked at you with a smirk of his own, only for you to shrug. You totally didn't plan to throw it to the side at all.

Quickly the chairs were moved and the tables were set, circling a small area for the dance floor. In the back corner of the canopy next to the table of refreshments and food, was the cake. It was a small two-tiered vanilla cake.

"I made the icing myself, so it's extra special," Nancy told you as she stood next to you.

"Thanks, Nance," You replied, "You made sure to have the flavors?" You asked her in a slight murmur.

Nancy nodded, "Yep, chocolate, and strawberry."

You gave Nancy a fistbump before everyone sat around at the tables, you sitting with Eddie with your mother and Eddie's uncle. After a while of eating, Steve tapped his wine glass, gaining everyone's attention.

"Friends and family. Thank you all for coming!" Steve began as they clapped and Dustin whooped. "I'm just going to start and say I can't believe these two are already married. It feels like yesterday when Y/N came running up to me showing me the ring Eddie had bought. But now, here we are, and I'm not surprised. They're meant to be together. So, to Y/N and Eddie, may you live happily for the rest of your days." Steve finished, raising his glass in the air. "But, Eddie," Steve added, Eddie looking up that mean confused from his seat, "Don't do anything stupid. Cherish her for a You two deserve this happiness. Cheers!" Steve exclaimed, causing everyone to cheer, taking sips of their wine.

"Let's cut that cake!" You cried out, as everyone agreed, you and Eddie making your way to the cake.

Grabbing the knife, Eddie stood behind you as you slowly cut the first slice of cake, placing the cake on two plates, Eddie smirked as he swiped his finger into the icing, booping your nose playfully before he put the icing-covered finger into his mouth. Rolling your eyes, You cleaned off your nose, watching as people grabbed their slices of cake. People chatted among themselves, even reminiscing about old memories.

Once everyone had a slice of cake, Robin set up the speakers again, "Everyone! The Munsons!" Eddie took your hand as he led you to the center of the small dance floor of grass.

The slow song started as Eddie wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. As the two of you danced, Eddie looked up into the air, his smiling widening, before he looked back down at you. Staring up into his dark brown eyes, you could see all the love he held for you reflected in them. You loved him too much. Everything about him was perfect. He was smart. He cared. He was sweet. He was amazing. He loved you. "This song is beautiful." You whispered to him, listening to the soft guitar playing in the air.

Eddie smirked lightly, "I made this song for you." Eddie answered, making you gasp softly.

"Are you serious?" You asked in shock, his chuckling slightly as he nodded.

"You're too good to me... You really are." You muttered, Eddie smirking at your reaction before leaning down to capture your lips once again.

"It's called 'Memory'," Eddie said gently as the two of you swayed.

"I love it, Eddie. It's perfect." You whispered back with a grin before you giggled in surprise as Eddie dipped you as the song slowly ended.

"I love you, Eddie Munson." You professed, nuzzling your nose with his.

"I love you, Mrs. Munson."

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