#so him going swimming in that pool initially feels kind of random

[daydreamerdrew]

Whiz Comics (1940) #2

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (14)

(I’m finally baaaaaaaaaaack!!! So sorry this took so long guys, my life’s been CRAZY lately! Hope you all enjoy the update anyway thought! As usual, there’s this series and then a mini series connected to this called Journal Entries. Go check that out too if you prefer!)

Ch. 1 / Ch. 13 / Ch. 15 (ao3)

Chapter 14: Geronimo!

Felix dangled his leg over the pool’s edge, feeling the warm water brush against his skin as he slowly swung it back and forth. His reflection stared back at him, distorted by the ripples that formed from his movement. He didn’t swim in pools often, but when he did, it tended to be soothing for him. The waves rolling back and forth across his body helped remind him to breathe and gave him a sense of presence for where he was in that moment. He could allow himself to get lost in his thoughts while staying present on earth at the same time. It was nice. 

However, while he did enjoy looking at the water, he didn’t quite fancy it being thrown onto him. 

“Watch it!” Felix scowled at Allan and Claude as he scooted back on the pavement. If they continued to splash water like that, not only would Felix get soaked, but the cement around them would as well. Someone could get seriously injured by slipping if they weren’t careful or weren’t paying attention, specifically a certain ravenette that was going to be joining them in a few minutes.

“Aw, come on, Fe.” Claude laughed, swimming towards the blond. Felix moved back a bit more to be safe. “You have a swimsuit on for a reason. Join us! The water feels great!”

“I’ll get in when I’m good and ready.” Felix replied with narrowed eyes.

Claude tisked and swam back towards the deep part of the pool. “Figures. You’re probably waiting on Marinette to get here.”

Felix rolled his eyes. Why would he wait for anyone to go swimming? The girls were taking a tad longer than them, but this wasn’t a formal event. There was no need to-

“Speaking of Marinette,” The brunette continued, “what do you think of Luka? It sounded like they were pretty close.”

Felix held back a sigh, slowly growing more annoyed towards Claude’s strange, incessant questions and comments. For example, why would he think about Luka in any way? None of them had met the guitarist, and the only thing they knew about him was the flippant mention that Marinette had made earlier. A quick mention of dear friend, which was something that they’ve all done before. He’d noted the name, of course, but that was only because he’d fallen into the habit of noting a lot of things when it came to Marinette. Other than that, it was hardly an extraordinary occurrence, yet Claude was acting as though Luka had just joined their group alongside Marinette.

“I don’t have any thoughts on him.” He said. “You can’t have an opinion on someone you haven’t met.”

Claude scoffed. “Oh, please. You have an opinion on everything, Felix.”

“Everything I’ve read about and experience personally.” Felix replied curtly. Why would it even matter if he did have an opinion on Luka?

“Fine, I’ll change the question. What are your thoughts on Marinette’s thoughts about Luka?”

Felix raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what are your thoughts? She was blushing a lot earlier. Do you think she has a crush on him?”

Felix paused. When he first saw her blushing and stuttering in the music room, his mind did turn to that possibility, but blushing and stuttering were two traits that she exhibited quite often. Unless she has a crush on their entire group, along with this Luka person, her becoming flustered towards their teasing shouldn’t mean anything. That did bear a new kind of question, though: What type of person would Marinette like? He’s already established that she had a personal connection to Adrien Agreste- or at least he’s quite sure of it -so that was one basis they could use for reference. What traits did Adrien possess that could be considered attractive to Marinette?

His first guess would be money, fame, and power, except Marinette wouldn’t be that shallow. Plus, she initiated the break up. Most people who were after a certain status wouldn’t break off their chances of getting it. That meant there had to be something else that Adrien possessed that “wooed” her. It could be looks, with Adrien being a model again, or his personality. Considering who they were talking about, Felix guessed the latter, or at least a mix of the two. Maybe she had a thing for blonds and Adrien tended to give her a world of attention. Or perhaps she enjoyed a pair of emerald green eyes and someone that would bring a positive energy to the room, the same energy she often brought herself. Granted, Adrien’s positive energy was mostly fake, but that could be the reason why they broke up in the first place. (If they were together, that is.) Felix had learned over the last few weeks that Marinette deeply appreciates honesty from others as well, which would make sense when one thinks about her struggles with anxiety.

She most likely didn’t have a boyfriend currently, since it hasn’t been mentioned in the month that they’ve known her, but if she did, Felix would probably guess that that person had to be thoughtful, honest, and loving, someone who could calm her worries and give her the stability in life she needed. It was the least she deserved.

As for Luka, though..

“I think you should ask her yourself if you’re so interested.” Felix finally answered.

Claude pulled a pout and sighed. “You’re no fun.”

“Oh, leave him alone.” Allan said, jokingly splashing Claude. “Can’t you let him be a buzzkill in peace?”

Claude laughed and pounced on Allan, splashing more water everywhere. Felix tisked, but before he could chastise them for spreading more water onto the concrete, another voice interrupted them.

“We’re here~!”

The boys stopped fighting, and Felix glanced over his shoulder towards Allegra, who had just entered the pool room. She was wearing her casual, purple bikini and had her hair tied up in a bun, her usual look when swimming. Behind her, Marinette was shuffling in as well, and no sooner did his eyes land on the ravenette than he felt himself freeze to his spot on the cement. 

Her hair had been pulled up into a ponytail, and a frilly, pink bikini adorned her figure. Of course, neither of those things would have groundbreaking.. had she not also been completely ripped.

“Dang!” Claude remarked, taking the words out of their collective mouths. Her entire body appeared to be packed with muscle. It was like she’d decided to get up and complete a series of extreme exercises three times in a row daily! Felix already knew that Marinette was strong, but he didn’t expect her to look like she was chiseled out of rock itself. 

“Marinette, why didn’t you tell us that you were jacked?”

“Is that a six pack?” Allan asked, his jaw falling slack.

A blush bloomed across Marinette’s cheeks, and a bashful expression painted her features as she crossed her arms over her chest. “O-Oh, um-”

“It sure is!” Allegra grinned, wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “Apparently, Marinette has the same addiction to exercise that you guys do.”

Allan gained enough sense to let out a short laugh. “I wouldn’t exactly call it an addiction-”

“And you didn’t tell us?!” Claude interrupted, betrayal clear in his tone.

Marinette faltered. “I- uh -didn’t think you would be.. interested?”

“Are you kidding?” Claude lifted himself out of the pool to show his own set of abs. “I love exercising! We could have been working out together this whole time!”

“Where do you exercise?” Allan inquired. “I wanna know what you use to get your muscles so defined.”

“Oh! Uh- well -You know..” Marinette looked ready to squirm now. “Just.. random workouts at the house.. I guess.”

Felix furrowed his eyebrows. He didn’t know much about workouts, but from what he overhead from Allan and Claude, they could be time consuming. How did she manage to fit that into her schedule? She seemed busy enough with homework, designs, and helping her parents at the bakery. He supposed she could always rearrange her schedule to make time, but where was the equipment? Surely one couldn’t get muscles like that without using professional equipment, and yet he didn’t see anything remotely close to a weight last time they went to her house. 

“Felix?”

Felix’s gaze flicked to Claude, and he almost groaned when he saw the brunette grinning like a fool again. What ludicrous thing was he going to say now?

“Care to share your thoughts with the class?” He joked. “You were staring at Marinette pretty hard.”

Felix’s eyes widened, then snapped to Marinette. Her blush was a touch darker now, and Allegra was snickering next to her. He hadn’t been paying attention to where he was looking when he zoned out. How long was he staring? Where was he staring?

“I-” He stopped, unsure of what to say. Were his cheeks supposed to feel this warm? “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t-.. I just got lost in thought. I didn’t mean to.. stare.”

Claude snorted behind him. “‘Lost in thought’. Yeah, right.”

Felix whipped around and splashed Claude in the face. Now was not the time for his quips.

“I-It’s fine!” Marinette assured before the boys could fight further. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable or anything. Well, I mean- I just wanted sure that you were- you know -okay..”

Felix glanced back up at her, but for some reason, holding eye contact felt worse. So he shifted on the concrete, resting his elbow against his knee and his mouth in his palm. “Thank you, but I’m fine.”

“Good.” 

Felix barely had time to register Allegra’s comment or her steps as she ran towards him before he was abruptly shoved into the pool. A gasp escaped him as he flailed his arms around to gain stability, and he looked up to glare at Allegra. She was already jumping into the pool after him, though, yelling “Cannonball!”

She resurfaced a second later and threw him a subtle wink as she muttered, “I guess Marinette’s not the only one who needs to cool down, huh?” 

Felix didn’t have a chance to snap back- he wasn’t staring at her that way. It was an honest mistake! -because Marinette plunged into the pool a second later. 

A giggle fell from the ravenette’s lips when she resurfaced. “This water is so warm!”

“That’s because it’s a heated pool.” Claude informed as he swam over to her.

Marinette mouthed a “wow” before saying aloud, “I’ve never been in a heated pool before.”

“Well, now that you have, what do you think?”

“Hm.. I’d say it’s probably better for winter than it would be for summer.”

Allan chuckled. “I can confirm that it is definitely better in the winter.”

“Especially since there aren’t any other pools to swim in during that time.” Allegra smirked. She then splashed them all by making a wide wave with her arm.

“Race you guys to the water slide!”

Everyone began clambering to get to the other side of the pool, while Felix stood there squinting his eyes to avoid getting water in them. Why did he decide to be with such rowdy people?

“You good?” Allan, who had strangely stayed behind, inquired.

Felix nodded. “Allegra didn’t push me hard, so I didn’t scrape the floor.”

A hint of a smile passed Allan’s lips. “I was talking about your little fever earlier. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush that hard.”

Felix grit his teeth, feeling the heat rush back to his cheeks, and began swimming away to hide it. “It’s only because you all made it such a big deal.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Allan laughed, swimming after him. “Were we supposed to ignore the fact that you were just staring at Marinette’s abs without saying anything?”

Despite the annoying remark, Felix couldn’t help feeling a tad relieved. At least it was only the abs.

“No, but you didn’t have to make it weird.”

“You’re the only one who made it weird, dude.”

Felix scoffed. “Then, just forget the whole thing! It was an accident, and I got lost in thought, alright? For my sake and Marinette’s, just let it go.”

“Okay, okay.” Allan smiled, briefly pausing in his swim to hold up his hands. “This is me letting it go.. But I can’t promise anything for Claude or Allegra.”

Felix bit back a groan. Great. He could trust Allan to let this pass, and maybe Allegra, but if it was up to Claude?

He was never going to live this down.

~~~~~~

Marinette sat on Allegra’s bed with a smile as she ran her hands over the furry, soft comforter. Allegra sat behind her, carefully pulling on Marinette’s hair to tie it into a braid. Once everyone had had their fill of swimming, they’d decided to take showers and change into pajamas for the evening. The boys went off to their bedroom, while the girls retreated to theirs, and when Marinette finished her shower around fifteen minutes later, Allegra eagerly insisted that they exchange hair styles.

“I’ll wear your pigtails, and you can wear a braid!” She’d said. “It’ll be fun!”

The request was a strange one, but Marinette figured it wouldn’t hurt anything to accept it. So she’d grabbed her ribbons for Allegra and got settled on the bed. Now, they were here, simply doing each other’s hair and waiting for the boys to come back. The silence in the room was palpable, but it wasn’t born from awkwardness, at least. Allegra was merely focused on the task at hand, and Marinette didn’t mind enjoying the quiet while it lasted. Spending time with the group on a constant basis, while fun, could be overbearing sometimes. They were always moving, always talking and laughing together, especially Claude. So the softer moments like this were a nice reprieve.

Actually, Claude’s absence was probably the reason for this new found silence. If she listened hard enough, she’d bet that she could hear him chattering all the way across the mansion. Perhaps she might even catch Felix telling him to pipe down too.

“So,” Allegra began, breaking the comfortable silence between them, “You’ve been attending Rosemary for a good month now. Do you think you’ve got a good handle on it yet?”

Marinette smiled, careful not to turn her head as she replied, “I like to think so. I know where all of my classes are, and I’m pretty sure I’ve memorized the teacher’s names.”

“Oh, good.” She could hear the satisfied smile in Allegra’s voice. “What about our group? Have you gotten sick of us yet?”

A laugh tumbled from Marinette’s lips. “No, of course not. I could never get sick of you guys.”

“Aw~.” The blonde cooed. “Even Felix? He’s a bit of a grump.”

Marinette snorted. “Oh, I don’t think he’s that bad. He just likes to have order in his life, ya know?”

“I do.” Allegra agreed. “But I also think he’s mellowed out a lot since you came around.”

Marinette’s eyes widened slightly, and she glanced to the left in an attempt to look at Allegra without moving. “You think so?”

Allegra hummed. “He’s not nearly as impertinent as he used to be. We had to drag him around everywhere we went with him pouting the entire way, but ever since you joined, he’s been coming to our hangouts without a single complaint. He’s been smiling more too.”

“Don’t get me wrong, we love Felix. He’s just a stay-at-home-and-isolate-yourself-from-all-human-existence type of person. That’s why it surprised us when he took such a shining to you.”

Heat rose to Marinette’s cheeks, and her fingers dug into the fur and feathers of Allegra’s blanket as she began fiddling with it a bit more. Had Felix really been smiling more and doing more things since she came around? Claude did mention Felix being ‘lenient’ with her a few times, but she’d thought he was just kidding. Or at least that Felix was more spiteful towards Claude since Claude was often pushy. Why would he take a shining to her specifically? Marinette didn’t remember doing anything special. Why not open up to the people who had been sticking by his side for two years?

“If he fought so hard against your get-togethers, why did you keep inviting him?” She found herself asking. She loved hanging out with Felix too, but if someone continued to reject her invitations and argue with her on every subject- as Allegra had implied -she probably would stop trying to hang out with that person after a while. 

“Well, it’s like you said,” Allegra shrugged. Or at least, Marinette was pretty sure she shrugged. The bed definitely shook slightly from whatever the blonde was doing. “Felix isn’t really that bad. He may act all tough and annoyed, but he still shows up to our hangouts on time and pays for the lunches when it’s his turn and helps us out when we ask him. We know he enjoys being around us, even if he won’t admit it. We just like giving him a hard time.”

Marinette let out a soft hum. That made sense. She could see the way he made time for the planned visits and study dates and how he’d subtly help out the others in any way he could. 

In other words, Felix didn’t truly need to be dragged around everywhere. He just had a habit of putting up a fuss.

“Plus,” Allegra continued, “we kind of deliberately push his buttons all the time. So I don’t really blame him for snapping at us. Maybe that’s why he warmed up to you faster than he did us.”

Marinette chuckled. Maybe it was. They did tend to tease him a lot. 

She wasn’t sure if Felix was actually more comfortable around her or not- though if anyone were to know it would probably be Allegra -but the fact that he might be brought her a certain sense of pride. Felix’s stone-cold demeanor was strong, and he rarely dropped it for anything. Her being able to help him relax would be a remarkable accomplishment, in her opinion.

“Alright, my turn!”

Marinette jumped at Allegra’s voice and reached up to touch the back of her hair. The braid was indeed finished, trailing all the way down to the top part of her back. It might look strange due to it being short, but she would only have it in for one night. Besides, if it makes Allegra happy, then who cares if she looks a tad silly?

Marinette moved back on the bed to allow Allegra to move up in front of her, and once the blonde got situated, Marinette began gathering up Allegra’s hair to pull it into two ponytails. It wasn’t until she started trying to brush through the hair, however, that she realized how hard the task may be.

“My goodness, Allegra!” Marinette blurted out. “How do you even have this much hair? You’re like a Disney princess!”

Allegra’s hair was not only long, flowing well past her lower back, but also thick. Marinette had a feeling that she could stick her whole hand inside and barely make it past the surface. How was Allegra’s neck not constantly aching from holding it all? Was this why she braided it so often? It had to be. If Allegra allowed her hair to flow freely as it was now, it would get caught on everything and anything in its way. 

Allegra laughed in front of her. “I’ll take that as a compliment, but if anyone were to be a Disney princess here, it would be Claude.”

The comment pulled a laugh from Marinette as well. “Why does that make sense?”

“I know right! He’s even practiced that crying flop thing that all of the princesses do.”

“Seriously?”

“Yes! I still have a picture of it. I’ve decided that he’d either be Aurora or Merida.”

Marinette snorted. “Why’s that?”

“Well-”

A knock on the bedroom door interrupted their conversation, and the girls paused to listen for whoever was on the other side.

“Hey. Can we come in?”

It was Claude, coincidentally the same person they had been talking about.

“Yeah, you’re good.” Marinette called back. “We’re just doing each other’s hair now.”

“And talking about how you’re a Disney Princess.” Allegra added with a grin.

Claude let out an incredulous laugh as he opened the door, revealing Allan and Felix to be behind him as well. “I’m a Disney princess?”

“Oh, yeah. Either Aurora or Merida. You pick.”

Claude scoffed jokingly. “Please. If I were a Disney princess, I would totally be Kuzco, because I’m fabulous and I may not be a princess, but I deserve a crown.”

Marinette burst into a fit of giggles, along with Allegra and Allan, but Felix rolled his eyes.

“Claude, you would be Kuzco because you’re both spoiled and overly dramatic about everything.”

Claude shot him a look. “You know we’re both spoiled right? But it’s fine. I don’t blame you for being jealous of me.”

Felix scoffed. “Jealous-”

“Anyway!” Claude cut him off, prancing over to Marinette. “Are you ready, Mari?”

Marinette's smile faltered. Ready? “Ready for what?”

“You and I are gonna arm wrestle.”

Her eyes bulged. “What?”

“If it’s alright with you.” Allan joined in. “We wanna see how strong you are.”

“Wait, so you all want to arm wrestle with me?”

“Not all of us.” Claude corrected. “Felix is too scared to challenge you.”

“I’m not scared.” Felix said, irritation lacing his tone. “I simply see no point in starting something I know I can’t win.”

“You won’t even try!”

“Why should I? I don’t work out on a regular basis like you do, and I’ve seen the things she can do. You two are going to get thrown across the room as it is. I don’t want to add myself to that list.”

Marinette pursed her lips, feeling another blush coming on. Did he honestly think that she was that strong? (Being Ladybug, she probably was, but-)

“Where are we going to do it?” She asked.

Claude perked up. “You mean you’ll really arm wrestle with us?”

“Sure, I don’t see why not. I just need to finish Allegra’s hair-”

“Oh, no.” Allegra interrupted with a grin. “I can finish the hair. You go arm wrestle.”

Marinette hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Positive. I wanna see the boys get creamed.”

“Allegra!” Claude shouted indignantly.

“You know you’re gonna~.” She sang in response.

The brunette huffed as he sat on the carpeted floor. “Does no one have faith in us?”

“Honestly?” Allan sat down next to him. “I don’t think I’ll win either. I just want to see how bad I’m gonna lose.”

“Wow.. at least you’re honest.”

Marinette giggled and moved to the floor where she assumed the arm wrestle would take place. Behind her, Felix claimed her abandoned spot on the bed next to Allegra, and she felt their gazes on her back as she laid down in front of Claude, who already had an arm up and an eager smirk on his lips. 

Tentatively, Marinette grabbed his hand. She hadn’t been worried about winning at first, but now that everyone had voiced their belief towards her certain victory, the pressure was starting to weigh on her mind. Losing was much less humiliating when no one believed you would win in the first place. 

“Alright, I’m sure everyone knows the rules.” Allan began, acting as referee. “Elbows have to be touching the ground no matter what, and you can only use one hand. The first hand to touch the ground loses. I’ll count down from three.”

Marinette nodded and situated herself a bit more on the ground. Claude did the same. 

“No hard feelings, right?” The brunette asked lightheartedly.

“3..”

Marinette smirked. 

“2..”

“None whatsoever.”

“1..”

“Especially since you’re going to be the one losing.”

An incredulous laugh burst from Claude’s lips. “Oh!”

“Go!”

They both pushed against each other at the same time, but Marinette managed to put in a burst of speed that slammed Claude’s hand right into the floor. The round was over in the blink of an eye.

“OOOOOOOOH!!!” 

Allegra and Allan both cheered, and Claude looked like he would have fallen backwards from shock had he not been lying down. But nothing made Marinette happier than the proud smirk she caught on Felix’s lips.

“I wanna go again!” Claude announced eagerly.

“No way! It’s my turn to try!” Allan replied, shoving the brunette aside.

Marinette laughed and got situated again, and although Claude was disappointed, he quickly assumed the role of referee for her and Allan. There was another countdown from three, and when the word “Go” was shouted, the two pushed as hard as they could. Allan held up a tad longer since he was more prepared and focused, but in the end, the results were the same. Marinette slammed his hand into the floor with no sense of mercy, just as she had done with Claude. 

“Dude!” Allan laughed, rubbing his wrist. “You’re good at this!”

“How often do you play?” Claude asked.

Marinette tilted her head back and forth. She may or may not play multiple nights a week with Chat Noir when patrols were slow, but that wasn’t something she could tell any of them. 

“Only every now and then.” She decided to reply.

“What! That’s crazy!” Claude exclaimed. “Let’s do it again. I wanna try one more time.”

Marinette gladly obliged, and soon, one more time turned into six more times. Then ten more. The boys just kept shoving each other aside, insisting on playing again, only for her to beat them within a few seconds or so. Each round got admittedly harder for Marinette, but after two years of constantly finding new ways to beat Chat noir, arm wrestling with civilians almost felt too easy.

“Agh!” Claude groaned after getting beat for the twelfth time in a row. “I was so close that time!”

“Yeah.. no.” Allegra said from the bed. “Not even.”

“Do you see now why I didn’t care to try?” Felix remarked.

“Hey, I’m still having fun losing.” Allan smiled. “Move over, Claude, it’s my turn again.”

“Oh, give her a break.” Allegra scolded. “You’re gonna tire her out until your win is guaranteed.”

Marinette silently agreed. She could definitely go longer, but her arm was starting to feel tired, and she didn’t want to end up over-exerting herself, especially when she already did that on a weekly basis as Ladybug.

“Aw, I guess you’re right.” Claude relented, scooting back on the carpet. Allan also backed off, to which Allegra gave a satisfied nod.

“Besides, we have to figure out what we’re doing for next week before we forget.”

Marinette twisted on the floor to give Allegra a questioning look. “What’s happening next week?”

“Valentine’s Day!” The blonde said, as though it were obvious.

“We host a party for the school every year to celebrate it.” Allan explained.

“And now we need to figure out where we’re going to host it for this year.” Allegra finished.

“Oh..” Marinette muttered, trying not to sound too despondent. Ever since Adrien, she’d sort of been actively avoiding things that symbolized love or relationships.. if only to keep the blond out of her mind. “That sounds like a lot of fun.”

“It is!” Claude grinned. “We get a bunch of decorations and snacks and drinks, and then we’ll put on music for people to dance to! Sometimes we even make up fun games to play.”

“And you do this every year?”

“For the past four years.” Allegra confirmed. “Speaking of which, do you want to help us decorate?”

Marinette knew she shouldn’t be surprised towards the request, since they’d invited her to everything else under the sun, but she still couldn’t help raising her eyebrows. “Really? You want me to help?”

“Of course!” Claude smiled. “We’d love to have your artistic touch.”

A soft chuckle passed her lips. The group’s attachment to her had been made clear from all of the get-togethers they invited her to join, but she’d fallen under the impression that they were all still newly made friends. Therefore, being invited to something that sounded extremely personal, such as decorating for a party that they alone hosted, made her realize how highly the group thought of her. Or perhaps they would invite anyone who returned their smiles.

Either way, She felt extremely honored. 

“That’s sweet, but I’m a fashion designer. Not a party designer. They’re a bit different.”

“Yeah, but you like doing crafts, right?” Allan pointed out. “We make a lot of our decorations by hand. It helps the parties seem more personal and gives us a good excuse to hang out over winter break.”

“Not that we really need one.” Allegra added.

Marinette mouthed a ‘wow’ before saying, “You guys really go all out.”

“Yeah, we do.” Claude smirked. “Otherwise, who’d wanna come?”

“That’s why we need to get a reservation somewhere by tomorrow. So we have time to prepare.”

“Did you guys have a place in mind?”

“I have a few, actually.” Allegra replied. “My main preference is the Mandarin Oriental, but there’s also a few other options like Ritz Paris, Bateaux Parisiens, or Les Pavillons de Bercy.”

Marinette nodded thoughtfully, though she’d really only heard of one of those places. Was it bad that she didn’t know about the other three? 

“Have we done the Mandarin Oriental yet?” Allan asked.

“Not that I remember.”

“I don’t want to do Bateaux Parisiens.” Felix spoke up. “Being on a boat with that many people would be dreadful.”

“Aw, what?” Claude said. “Boats are awesome!”

“Not when they are packed to the brim with people. You’d barely be able to move an inch without running into somebody, and there would be no escape once you’re out on the water.”

“Well, fine, if you’re going to put it that way..”

“I say we do Mandarin Oriental.” Allan remarked. “I trust Allegra’s judgement on the setting.”

Allegra smiled at that, and the other two boys shrugged.

“I’m fine with it as long as I can get some air at some point.” Felix said.

“I guess I’m okay with it too.. But we should try to do a boat next year.”

Allegra shot Claude an indulgent smile. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Who’s going to call and reserve the tables?”

“I can have Dad do it.” Allegra answered. “We want him to reserve it for two days so we have time to put the decorations in, right?”

“Yeah, like usual.”

“Alright. We can check out the room we’re reserving tomorrow to see which types of decorations we need.”

“Great!” Claude chirped. “Does that work for you, Mari?”

Marinette smiled. She may not be fond of love or romance at the moment, but if throwing a Valentine’s Day party meant spending more time with these wonderful people, she would absolutely do it. 

“Perfectly.”

“Awesome.” Allegra said, satisfied. “Now that that’s settled, we can go back to messing around. What do you guys want to do?”

“Besides arm wrestling?” Claude joked as he eyed Marinette.

“Besides arm wrestling.”

“Why don’t we play hide and seek?” Allan suggested. “We haven’t played that with Marinette yet.”

Marinette gasped. Playing hide and seek in a mansion as big as this one? How had she not considered that before! 

“Yeah, that’s a great idea!”

“Absolutely!”

“..I suppose.”

“What do you say, Mari?” Allegra smiled. “Wanna play?”

Marinette didn’t even have to think about her answer. “Yes, please!”

Allan chuckled and leaned back on his palms. “Great. Who’s going to be it?”

The group paused for a split second. Then, all at once, a chorus of ‘not it!’s rang out in the room.

“Claude, you were the last one!”

“What? No way! It was totally you!”

Allegra shot up from the bed. “Nope! It was you! Start counting to 150!”

“But let us turn off the lights first.” Allan added as he got up.

“Oh, no. I’m counting now.” Claude replied with a sinister grin. “So you better hurry to turn the lights off as you go.”

Felix was up now too, and Marinette, in her giddiness, shot up from the floor with a squeal to follow him.

“Claude Herolds, you better wait for us to-”

“One!” The brunette yelled over Allegra.

“Claude-”

“Two!”

When it was clear he didn’t intend on stopping, everyone scrambled to get out of the bedroom door. They got stuck for only a moment, pushing against each other to be the first one out, then they struggled free and scattered.

Marinette stopped at the top of the steps, her eyes darting around the parts of the mansion she could see. There were so many rooms, so many open spaces, and she still hadn’t memorized where everything was, let alone where good hiding places could be. Where should she even start?

A hand gently grabbed her arm.

“This way.” Felix said in a hushed tone, lightly tugging her down the stairs. “Downstairs is more open for when you need to move to a new hiding place.”

“That’s allowed?”

He nodded. “It’s why we turn the lights off. I’ll show you a good room to start.”

“That’s why it surprised us when he took such a shining to you.”

A smile tugged at the corner of Marinette’s lips. “Thanks.”

With the blond’s assured guidance, Marinette’s steps held a tad more confidence, and as Claude’s countdown lowered to 125, the two bolted for a room to hide.

tag list:  @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything @magnificentcrapposts @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx @miraculous-ninja @miraculouspenta @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @all-mights-asscheeks @ira-sairain @lookatthestars1 @dahjokester @blissful-passing @solangelo252 @canivialemonsquints07

[sproutsgcrden]

sentinel of naruhata | chapter one

all might hoodies and a random cashier

warnings: graphic descriptions of violence, manga spoilers for my hero academia: vigilantes

word count: 2959

masterlist | read on ao3 | next chapter

want to be tagged? send me an ask and let me know!

There used to be a time when Izuku could remember feeling nothing but love towards his father. Before quirks mattered, Izuku’s father was very involved. Hisashi spent every waking moment he could allow with Izuku and his mother; when he wasn’t working, he was home. It was simple. Domesticated. It was a life Izuku looks back on with a bitter fondness. He was happy, then. But knowing that it was all an act? Those few memories he could recall of loving parents and a happy childhood were poisoned, left to rot under the guise of being a victim of All for One.

After spending years underneath his father’s thumb, he knows exactly why Midoriya Inko was All for One’s priority. Her quirk, Pull, was really a perfect fit for a favorable genetic combination. Hisashi’s use of All for One relied on touch- really, that is the only drawback of his quirk, if you don’t count the pain on the other party’s behalf (Hisashi sure didn’t). It’s no wonder why he would pursue a romantic relationship with a woman who could theoretically provide him with the cure to his greatest ailment.

But, as is usually the case with genetics, there was a major problem for Hisashi. Inko’s quirk gave her the ability to pull objects toward her body- she could not push objects away, only bring them close. When Izuku developed his quirk, Hisashi’s initial plan was to take the quirk and leave. He would have no more use for his wife and son afterwards, so really there was no point in staying. So, when Inko had left the apartment and he tried to take Izuku’s quirk, he was of course met with disappointment. Pull had merged with All for One, and unless Izuku deemed otherwise, the quirk stayed with him.

One last final “fuck you” from his brother. Hisashi had a habit of making mistakes when it came to his family.

So instead of taking the quirk that he so desperately desired, Hisashi was forced to take a different approach. It didn’t take long for his frustration to boil over, and he managed to wrangle Izuku to the bar. Kurogiri took like a fish to water when it came to caring for Tomura, and Hisashi hoped it would be no different with Izuku. His son already reminded him too much of his brother, what with his heroic ideals already formed, best not get too attached and make the same mistakes a second time around.

Perhaps that was another error on his end. Maybe if Hisashi had been a bit more careful, a little more parental, he wouldn’t be in the position he was in now.

Oh, there’s no doubt that All Might and All for One would’ve met when they did, in a clash of blood, guts, and horror. The carnage was unavoidable, as was the comatose state the villain was in.

Which served as the perfect distraction for Izuku to make his get away.

The small convenience store on the edge of the street was lit up like a beacon, drawing Izuku closer and closer. The journey from Kamino Ward all the way to Tokyo took a lot out of him- his father would be disappointed in his lack of progress in just a few days. What should have been merely a seven hour trek on foot took approximately three days. Not only did he find himself having to stop for breaks quite frequently, but he also had to stop every so often in order to hide from his father’s lackeys.

Izuku wasn’t sure what Tomura and Kurogiri thought had happened. He had tried his best to make it seem like he was forcibly taken, even going as far as hiring a low level thug to act like he had knocked him out and taken him somewhere. With the state the underground Boogeyman had been in the last few months, it wouldn’t be shocking that someone would go after his son. But, with the tracker he had ripped out of his neck and the funds he took from the stash in his bedroom, he wasn’t sure if the set-up had worked. What he did know was that his father’s very large army was on the lookout for him.

Which is why he had to find Eraserhead as soon as possible. Izuku had thought about looking for All Might, but even he knew there was no way that a union between the two of them would go well. Plus, he was sure that the number one hero was still healing, even if he had begun making appearances again. He wouldn’t be in the state to take on the seemingly kidnapped child of his most-hated enemy, even if he wanted to. But Eraserhead? Izuku knew that the underground hero would help, even if he had to push a little hard.

The Erasure Hero was always appealing to Izuku, and his quirk was always appealing to his father. Hisashi had been after the man’s quirk for as long as Izuku could remember, though it was put on the backburner once the Noumu project began in earnest. But Izuku was awed by the hero’s ability to defeat multiple enemies, even if his quirk didn’t allow him an even playing field with everyone. And from personal stories of those who frequent Kurogiri’s bar, Eraserhead is much more terrifying in person.

It wasn’t hard for Izuku to narrow down where Eraserhead patrolled; with a little cross-referencing between the few short clips he could find, it led him right to Naruhata Ward.

Izuku pushed forward, barely registering the jingle of the bell positioned above the door to the convenience store. The worker behind the counter gave a half-hearted welcome, clearly distracted by something. Izuku gave it no mind and made his way to the aisles in the back, where he knew they would keep the hygiene items. He grabbed the necessities, crowding them in his arms as well as he could. He also picked up a box of black hair dye; if anything were to give him away it would be his bright green hair.

Izuku meandered through the aisles, picking up small snacks and easy meals. He didn’t know how long he’d have to be on the streets before he found a sliver of activity from Eraserhead- best to be safe. It would be nice to have a bowl of katsudon sometime, hopefully he would be able to find a place soon. He knew it wouldn’t even hold a candle up to his mother’s cooking, but it would be lovely to eat his favorite dish without it being a manipulative gift from his father.

The doorbell jingled again, and Izuku spared a small glance just in case. It didn’t seem to be anyone who was looking for him in particular, but it was best to try and hurry out of here quickly. The trio who had just walked in were talking to each in obscenely loud voices, but what had caught his attention was how the cashier had greeted them. A soft welcome in greeting was cut off abruptly, and Izuku heard the bell jingle once again, this time in a more aggressive manner.

Shrugging, Izuku rearranged the multitude of items in his arms. He really should’ve grabbed a basket when he walked in. He huffed his way to the front of the store, nearly throwing his purchases on the cashier’s counter before he realized the man he had seen earlier was nowhere to be found. Twisting his head, he did a quick sweep of the store, not seeing where the cashier could’ve gone. Izuku thought that maybe he had gone to the restroom- that was, until he heard the unmistakable sound of a fist hitting flesh and bone.

It was a sound Izuku was intimately familiar with- All for One did not hold back in his training whatsoever- so it was easy to pick up on. With a sullen sigh, Izuku made his way through the door once again, leaving his items on the counter. As he turned the corner to the alley next to the building, he saw the trio that had walked in earlier towering over the cashier.

“Like my quirk? It’s called Spike.” The man talking seemed to be the ringleader of the little group, red spiky hair and an attitude to match. The other two were just standing behind him laughing. Izuku felt his eyes narrow as the man continued to speak. “Getting stabbed hurts real bad, y’know. Scared yet?” He moved his leg up as if he was going to kick the cashier in the stomach, and that’s when Izuku decided that he had had enough.

The thing about quirks like All for One, is the feeling of emptiness that settles in your bones once your quirk is gone. It’s jarring, and it definitely throws you off balance. Izuku, luckily, has never experienced it, but a man who traded quirks with his father once described it as “someone throwing you into the deep end of a pool and not knowing how to swim. You don’t know if it hurts or not, but it’s uncomfortable and terrifying.” Izuku’s quirk is different in one major aspect from his father’s- he can only pull quirks to him, he can’t give them back. However, in his multitude of training exercises with his father, the two of them had found a loophole of sorts. Before the quirk fully makes its way to Izuku’s and integrates within All for One, he can let go, and it will snap back to the original owner. So, when Izuku threw his hand out, he fully expected the sight that greeted him.

Instead of landing the kick to the cashier’s stomach, the spiky man faltered. His eyes grew impossibly wide as he sputtered profanities in his shock. Izuku chose this moment to step forward, hand falling to his side as he let go of the quirk. He felt the snap that signified that he had lost hold of the other’s quirk- good, he hadn’t gotten rusty.

“Why don’t you leave the dude alone? He’s at work, I’m sure he’s had a shitty day without you bozos in the mix.”

The man with the spike quirk growled, to which Izuku could only cackle in response. “What the hell is an eight year old doing out here so late? Don’t you have curfew?”

Izuku’s glare deepened. “I’m nine, so shut the fuck up. Unless you want me to take your quirk for good?”

The way the man’s face paled instantly nearly made Izuku feel bad. He hates instilling fear the way his father is so used to doing. It isn’t at all what he wants to be in life. But also, he’s not the kind of person who can just watch an innocent get beat to hell for no good reason.

“No way a little kid like you could take my quirk.” Spiky man shook his head, putting on his tough guy act once more. “So why don’t you stop at playing hero and go home, yeah? The grown-ups have some talking to do.” He let out spikes from his knuckles and held them out towards the cashier, making him gulp in fear.

Izuku, tired and impatient, thrust his hand out once more. The spikes instantly disappeared, and the look of fear returned in full force. “I’m not going to warn you again.”

The groupies in the back began to drag away their leader, who was frozen in disbelief. His eyes were clouded over with an emotion Izuku could recognize so clearly. Everyone who interacted with All for One had glazed-over eyes soaked in petrification. It was hard to miss, and it made Izuku feel awful, even as he felt the quirk snap back into proper place once more.

The group left the alleyway quickly, probably searching for someone else to harass. Izuku did his best to ignore the mutterings of names they were calling him. He was no stranger to being perceived as a freak. That was Tomura’s favorite nickname for him. Izuku let his eyes trail over to the cashier, half-hidden in the shadows. Hardened green eyes met soft brown, and everything seemed to click back into place. Izuku shook his head free of his thoughts and walked the short distance to the hunched over man.

“Are you okay, sir?”

The man looked up at Izuku- not a very far distance, he was merely hunched over and Izuku is still quite short- and gulped. “Oh yeah, I’m fine! Not terrified at all! Everyday I work I’m cornered by a group of dudes I somehow pissed off earlier in the day, ya know? It’s totally normal!”

The green haired child blinked slowly, and the cashier shook his head softly. “Uh, I’m sure you’re ready to get checked out, yeah? It’s pretty late, I’m sure your parents are worried.” He began to walk back towards the entrance of the building, fixing his smock and not waiting on Izuku. After standing still for a few seconds in thought, Izuku slowly followed him.

The monotonous beeping of Izuku’s items being rang up did nothing to cut the tension between the cashier and the glare the owner was giving him. Izuku felt bad, but his shy and awkward nature prevented him doing anything but hopping in place and glancing around the store. His green eyes landed on an All Might hoodie hanging on a rack near the window. Izuku quickly bounded over to it, and decided that, while it was a little big, it was worth the price. Plus he needed a new hoodie after a few days of slumming it on the streets.

Izuku walked back over to the cashier and plopped the hoodie on the counter next to his other items. He didn’t miss the fond look the man gave it before he rang it up and put it in the bag. “This jacket is super comfortable- plus it’s based on his Silver Age costume, which is obviously the best version. I never understood why he changed it.”

“No way! The Bronze Age costume is obviously superior! How is this even a discussion!” The green haired child’s eyes lit up in mock defiance as the two had a short debate over what made each All Might costume better than the other. Many things changed in Izuku’s life once his father took him away- but his love for All Might and All Might related things did not. Though he did have to be more careful in how he was able to show it- neither his father nor Tomura appreciated it when he brought up the hero in a positive light. It was nice to talk about him with a normal person.

The cashier announced his total, and Izuku cringed as he provided the necessary yen for his purchase. He was going to have to be more frugal in the future until he found a way to skimp more money.

“Take care, kid.” Izuku grabbed the plastic bags off the counter and gave the cashier a nod in thanks. Sparing one last glance at the owner, Izuku felt a shiver run down his spine in fear. He did not envy the conversation that the poor man was going to have once he left the establishment.

As soon as Izuku exited through the door, hearing that jingle once last time, he began to stuff the plastic bags inside of his worn yellow backpack. He quickly shrugged off his ragged hoodie, dirty and grimy from being worn on the road for three days, and threw on the brand new All Might hoodie. He would have to find someplace he can dye his hair in peace soon, but that can wait until tomorrow. Looking around quickly, Izuku made sure no unwanted eyes were on him as he stepped into the nearby alleyway. Closing his eyes, he let the power of a stolen quirk flow through his veins. Bending his legs, Izuku hopped as high as could, bouncing from wall to wall until he landed on the roof.

Enhance was what the previous owner of this particular quirk liked to call it. It did exactly what one would think. By using this power, Izuku could enhance his physical abilities, making him stronger, faster, more lithe. It was the very first power that Hisashi had “given” him. Of course, at the time of the quirk being stolen, Izuku didn’t know that he was taking anything from anyone unwillingly. And he most assuredly was not aware of the fact that Hisashi had killed the original holder moments after Izuku left the room.

Despite the dark origins of how he received it, Enhance was one of the only quirks Izuku felt comfortable using. Not only was it helping him get away from the tyrannical hold of his father, but it was also one of the only quirks he had that didn’t affect others. It wasn’t something that could be directly used to harm someone unless he was aiming for it. The other quirks in his possession were destructive and hard to handle. They reminded him of his father, so he tried to push them down whenever they fought to be released.

Izuku narrowed his eyes as he forced Enhance to increase his speed, bounding from roof to roof. He had escaped his father, for now. There was no telling when Tomura would get fed up with the so-called NPCs bringing back failure after failure, and decide to go find Izuku himself. He was on a very tight time limit, though he wasn’t sure of the limit itself. As he raced across the rooftops of Naruhata, only one thought was in his mind.

He needed to find Eraserhead. And quick.

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

“ how the hell did this happen? ” - starker

Fire, Burning Me Up

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark (Starker) Rating: Mature (M) Notes: For some reason, my brain went to this - hope you don’t mind!  Word Count: ~2k Summary:

Peter is transfixed by the man at the bar - a firefighter with a trimmed goatee and the most gorgeous eyes. What he expects to be something fun turns into something that could easily turn into forever. 

do the thing, send in all the prompts

The first time Peter saw him, he was out for drinks with Ned and MJ – they’d been balls deep in thesis research for the last ten days, getting out of the dimly lit lab and behind the wood of a bar absolutely needed to happen. He just didn’t expect that night to change the rest of his life like it did.

Peter liked to let the image of the man he’d come to know as Tony sit in the front of his mind, like a picture in a wallet or sitting on his desk in a frame. The NYFD on the back of his shirt was the first thing to draw him in. In all of his adult life, Peter hadn’t encountered a firefighter before. May’s cooking was dismal, and the local Queens department knew her by name, but he hadn’t had any unfortunate accidents like that since moving out and starting his schooling at TISCH; and that was 6 years ago.

He was sitting next to a beefy blonde man who was in the same shirt – the firehouse numbers on the side of their sleeves matched, too. There were a couple of empty stools next to them, but drinks rested in front of them waiting for their owners to return. Peter watched the two men closely, the obvious familiarity between them much like him and the two goons getting sloppy at their table. His breath caught when Tony turned to look at him. He could’ve gotten lost in the cognac color of his eyes; they were warm and staring at him intently.

Already too deep into the staring contest to look away, Peter flashed him a smile. In the times they’d talked about it since then, Tony told him it looked shy on his end, but he remembered feeling confident, happy to have caught his attention. Tony didn’t hesitate to smile back, either. The side of his mouth crinkled when he did, the well taken care of goatee framing the look on his face spectacularly. He mouthed ‘hi’ at Peter and shook his own beer bottle, his eyebrows raising.

Looking down at the last sip of his beer, Peter picked it up and downed it. He watched Tony chuckle and turn to flag down the bartender. For a few seconds, Peter forgot he was with his friends – MJ’s voice stopped him as he got out of his chair with the clear determination to head across the bar. “Where you off to, Petey?” He caught her eye and saw the sarcasm swimming there – in all the time he’d known her, MJ lived to give him shit.

“There’s a firefighter at the bar that’s making eyes at me. I’m going to go see what all the fuss is about.” Nodding his head at her, Peter turned back around, his long legs carrying him over to the bar dizzyingly quick. The seat next to Tony was vacant, the tall blonde now hovering over by the pool tables across the room.

It probably should’ve felt weird, sitting down next to a total stranger – but it didn’t. Tony turned towards him with a smile, his eyes gleaming in the fluorescent light. “Hey – I’m Tony.” It was simple and wholesome and the hand that Peter grasped a second later was rough and fit so nicely against his palm.

Peter switched to something a little lighter so he could absorb everything about Tony – they spent the rest of the night talking about his Interactive Telecommunications degree and where he wanted to take it after graduation in a couple of months. Tony told him about the fire station that he manned as the acting chief – he kept a smile on his face the entire time he recalled the men that worked with him and the adventures they’d been on. 

Some of them made Peter cringe with a terrible sort of discomfort – but, they were interesting and made Tony even more badass than he initially thought.

The biggest shocker of the night came when Tony mentioned a 5-year-old daughter. He’d been married briefly before deciding that hiding in the closest wasn’t worth all the heartache he’d caused. His ex-wife kept Amelia during Tony’s nights on shift, and the rest of the time was spent with Tony, learning and getting into as much trouble as possible. 

A piece of his mind was jumping up and down, trying to signal the need to get out while he still could. Peter wasn’t keen on that, though – Tony caught his attention; that was so much more than anyone else in his life over the last few years.

Over another 3 drinks, Peter got to know more and more about the fire engine driver turned team lead – he had a degree in Mechanical Engineering and originally got into firefighting just to work on the trucks. Every new piece of him made Peter wanted to know more, so when Tony asked him for his number a couple of hours later, he didn’t hesitate to give it to him.

They had a date planned before Peter walked back to his apartment with the friends he eventually caught up to. The smile on his face gave him away – he spent the rest of the early morning telling MJ about Tony; she grinned at him the entire time he talked.

“You’ve got it bad, Cupcake,” MJ stated plainly, her arm wrapping around his shoulder when he didn’t deny it. The blush on his face was answer enough, anyway.

Actually dating Tony Stark was even more interesting the man himself. He kept the weirdest hours, because of the many chaotic days he was used to at the station. It took a while for Peter to adjust to the requests to meet Tony in the weirdest places, but he did for the sake of the precious human who wanted his attention. The very first time he met Amelia, Tony texted him to meet him at the grocery store – he had a few hours to spare and wanted to have Peter there for them.

The little girl didn’t bat and eye – she held out her hand the same way her father did when Peter first sat down next to him. “I’m Amelia,” she said simply, the 5-year-old way more articulate than Peter was at that age.

“Hey Amelia, I’m Peter.” He gave her small hand the briefest of squeezes before letting go, a beaming smile slipping across his face. She looked so much like Tony; it was kind of eerie.

She nodded her head at him, her own lips tilting up into a grin. “I know. Daddy spent the last half an hour telling me all about you. You do cool things with art, right?” Tony looked at her with narrowed eyes when she threw him under the bus – she laughed and shrugged; the man’s own gesture being used against him. “Well, it’s true.”

Peter wanted to throw his arms around the two of them – he didn’t know that he could like Tony any more than he already did, but he was constantly being proven wrong. He looked between them before answering, his arms seriously itching for a group hug. “I’m not mad about that. It’s kind of cute,” he said, looking up at Tony with a quick wink. “That is me, though. I’m currently doing research with Virtual Reality creation and usage.”

How quickly he bonded with Amelia amazed him – it was even more seamless than his connection with Tony. The girl was smart and curious; she asked why constantly and wanted to know how everything worked. Sometimes, Peter would head over to the Stark household just to hang out with Amelia; Tony’s schedule was perfect for random drop-ins that turned into hours watching the girl while his boyfriend ran into work because of some crisis or another.

During one of the many times that happened, Amelia had the idea to make cupcakes. She talked him into downloading the Pintrest app and searching for the most complex ones that she could find. The smile that passed across her lips when she realized he would be helping her making rainbow unicorn cupcakes made it worth it – no matter how much he would wholeheartedly deny it.

Tony didn’t do a lot of cooking, so they had to wait for a grocery delivery to get to the house. While they did, Amelia told him about all of the unicorns they would be making and the names she picked out for each of them. Peter sincerely hoped they’d be able to make something at least edible – the thought of her crippling disappointment almost enough to make him back out at the last minute.

Always one to keep his promise, Peter shook his head and found some resolve – they were cupcakes, how bad could it really be? When the doorbell rang, Peter set Amelia up with some crayons at the table and went to grab the bags from the delivery guy. He gave him a good tip for all of the help and carried their loot back to the kitchen.

Luckily, Amelia was still young enough to not know the difference between from scratch and out of the box – Peter poured the white cake mix into the bowl before she could even question it. They cracked a couple of eggs and added the oil and water – she used both hands on the whisk to combine the mixture. Peter might’ve got a video of it, but he knew better than to tell her that. When she deemed it mixed enough, they separated it into a couple of Ziploc bags and added the different shades of food coloring to try and mimic the colors from the recipe.

They weren’t quite the same, but she didn’t seem to mind to much.

Distracted by the need to get the frosting out and into a bowl so they could get it ready to get it on the cupcakes, Peter set the oven way hotter than necessary. It didn’t even occur to him to check – Amelia was demanding that they get the colors spot on this time around.

By the time that Peter noticed the fire, the oven was steaming black smoke and the detectors in the house whirred with loud pitched sounds. Amelia covered her ears and ran to the pantry. She threw open the door and started gesturing wildly. 

Knowing that’s where they kept the fire extinguisher, Peter ran over and grabbed it. “Get out of the kitchen, Ames. Go call your dad and tell him I’m an idiot.” She quirked a brow at him but was quick to comply. Being the child of a fire chief meant that she knew how to get ahold of her father and 911.

It wasn’t nearly as bad as he figured by the billowing smoke flying out of the oven as he sprayed the foam over it. All of the cupcakes were totally charred, but the entire oven wasn’t up in flames – so he counted that as a win. When he could think clearly, he called out to Amelia – her feet on the tile floor sounding immediately, the little girl flying into his arms before he knew it. “Are you okay?”

She nodded, her arms around his neck. “I’m fine – Dad sounded a little grumpy on the phone. He’s on his way, though.” Her lips grazed his cheek, like the consolation of her affection would be enough to smooth the entire situation over. He kept her in his arms until Tony walked in the back door, a panicked look on his face.

Amelia got down and ran over to Tony – he leaned over to grab her without a second thought. “How the hell did this happen?” Tony questioned; his eyes wide as he took in the mess of the oven. “If you were trying to burn the cupcakes, you totally succeeded.” The words were meant to soothe the blow, his attempt at a smile making Peter laugh.

“We were trying to make rainbow unicorn cupcakes. I got so caught up on making the icing perfect that I… forgot them. The smoke was black, so they were really burnt. I’m sorry,” Peter muttered, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. He’d been pretty stupid, putting someone else’s daughter in danger the way he did.

Yet, when Tony and Amelia’s arms came around him, he was enveloped in the sort of hug that suggested relief for his sake as well. “I’m glad you’re okay,” Tony whispered, his lips pressing against Peter’s ear.

The gagging sound Amelia made had Peter pressing in, giving her a sloppy kiss right in the middle of her forehead.

Peter didn’t expect a family to come out of chatting with a cute guy at a bar, but now that he had it, he sure as fuck wasn’t letting it go.

[ohblackdiamond]

little t&a (gene/paul, nc-17) (part 23 of 29)

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

Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter:  Paul and Gene watch T.V. and continue to delay the inevitable.

          They went home after that, stopping only to pick up some more takeout for dinner. Paul was bemoaning it a bit, and offering to make them both sandwiches instead, even when he was pulling up to the restaurant.

         “I’ve gained three pounds just this past week.”

         “You’ve been weighing yourself?”

         Paul looked at him weirdly.

         “Well, yeah. Every day.”

         “Even since this happened?” Gene was a little bewildered to think that even getting cursed hadn’t been enough to distract Paul out of that particular concern.

         “Yeah. I think I’m still gaining it all in the abdomen.” Paul took a disgusted glance down at himself, assuming he could even see his stomach past his chest. Gene was beginning to wonder. “We can’t keep eating like we’re on the road.”

         “Can’t we?”

         “Fuck, no.” Paul grimaced, shaking his head as he parked the car and turned off the engine. “I spent the entire break trying to get my weight down.”

         “You look fine. Why are you so worried?”

         “The costume girls’ll have a fit.”

         It was the first time either of them had mentioned anything related to the tour all day. It cut through the Central Park fantasy like an Exacto knife. Gene wasn’t going to have some cute girl—this cute girl—hanging on his arm for much longer. Maybe no more than a few hours.

         Gene rubbed his elbow uncomfortably. Paul, gazing at his own reflection in the car mirror and pushing his hair in front of his shoulders, didn’t seem to notice, so Gene pushed the rest of his thoughts aside. They got out of the car together; Gene paid for the food, and they returned to Paul’s place soon after. Half the takeout was gone before they’d even gotten home with it. They finished off the rest at the kitchen island, then laid around on the couch awhile, T.V. running in the background while Gene read and Paul doodled.

         It was kind of funny, really. Occasionally it felt like nothing had really shifted. Still watching T.V. together like they used to in the hotels, back when getting laid after the show was a distant hope and not an inevitability. Eating out of Styrofoam boxes. Joking around and shooting the shit.

         The rest of the time, Gene was painfully aware of how much had shifted. There was the sex, sure, even if they hadn’t gone all the way, but that wasn’t the whole of it. He’d still have his gloomy spells, sure, but overall, Paul seemed so happy. So open. So—maybe Gene was giving himself too much credit, but Paul seemed—taken with him. He’d never been aware of anything like that out of Paul before. If those big, dark eyes had ever looked Gene’s way with half the warmth and attention he was getting now, then—well, then, Gene hadn’t noticed.

         He’d thought Paul didn’t like him a bit when they’d first met, in fact. He’d been high on his own bravado, and Paul had just hung in the periphery of his circles. Somebody had introduced them, and Gene had popped off immediately, something like oh, you write songs?, and Paul—well, he’d been Stan, and Stanley if you wanted to piss him off, back then; he hadn’t gone by Paul until a year or two later—had snapped right back with an affirmative.

         He remembered asking him to play one for him, and Paul had. The song was a lousy, incoherent mash-up of the Stones, Bowie, and the Beatles at their most soused, and his playing was worse. But somehow after, they’d just… Gene didn’t know. He couldn’t remember a definitive point where they’d clicked. Paul had still been in the process of nearly flunking out of high school, while Gene was a sophomore, or maybe a junior in college. But he remembered starting to call him up after classes, inviting him to parties and jams. He remembered thinking Paul was standoffish and nervous, not cut out at all for the rockstar career he was so desperate for. But he didn’t remember ever getting the feeling Paul dug him. More that he was just lonely.

         He didn’t want to delve into it too deeply. Rethink nearly ten years of interactions. It wouldn’t do any good, and it wouldn’t change any of the way things were right now. He watched Paul kick up his ankles against the arm of the couch, and finally spoke.

         “What did you take us out for, anyway?”

         Paul glanced up from his drawing. It was something weird and abstract, not the eerily-accurate dick sketches Gene was accustomed to out of him. Hatchmarks, parallel lines, and weird, elongated shapes were well on their way to completely covering the sketchpad.

         “To pay you back. I told you.” The pencil resumed its scratch across the page.

         “No, why did you really do it?”

         “Because we’d never get to again.”

         That was all he said for awhile. The words hung like streamers. Gene sort of wanted to argue him down, even though he wasn’t wrong. He couldn’t pretend he didn’t know exactly what Paul meant.

         “You can take me out anytime.”

         “Not like that.”  Paul shifted abruptly. “I’m gonna go shower.”

         Gene raised his head, half at the words, half at the slight thump of Paul’s sketchpad next to him on the couch.

         “Want some company? I hear there’s a water shortage.”

         Paul shook his head. Gene felt guilty at his own weird relief. For whatever reason, Paul wasn’t ready yet. They could keep on pretending for awhile longer.

         “Maybe later tonight.”

         Gene nodded. Paul’s expression seemed a little bit strained, but he turned and headed for the bedroom, not closing the door behind him. A minute or two later, Gene could hear the sound of the water running.

         Then he got up, looking through the living room’s bookshelf as if he hadn’t done it prior. Paul didn’t really read for pleasure. He had stuff like  The Power of Positive Thinking,  Games People Play, I’m OK – You’re OK, and a ragged copy of  How to Win Friends and Influence People, the last of which was highlighted like a book of scripture. Gene had been flipping through it while Paul drew.

         Then he had magazines with his face or KISS’ picture on the front cover. No intellectual reading material at all, though that wasn’t what he was looking for. At the bottom of one shelf were Paul’s junior and senior annuals and a small line of photo albums. Gene pulled one of the older-looking albums out at random.

         It was green and typical, with thick black pages. Probably one Paul’s parents had started of him. The initial contents weren’t surprising. A faded birth announcement. A taped-in lock of baby hair dated August 2, 1952—Paul’s parents hadn’t bothered with upsherin, so maybe it was no wonder he’d never had his bar mitzvah. Sepia infant photos—Gene swallowed a bit when he realized that even in the pictures where Paul was barely able to sit up on his own, the photographer had him posed with his head turned to the right, to hide the microtia. Some pictures from birthdays. A picture of him along with the rest of his second grade class. They were lined up by height, and Paul was standing towards the back, easily recognizable just from the eyes and expression. By that point, he’d apparently figured out the pose on his own; he was almost aggressively facing right, while everyone else was looking the camera head-on.

         All that misery and insecurity over two square inches of missing cartilage.

         Gene shook his head. He flipped past most of the rest of the pictures of Paul as a kid, past even the awkward handful from when he was a teenager, before finally coming up on photos slightly closer to current. He’d apparently kept a few Polaroids from Wicked Lester and the earliest days of KISS, before they’d even had the makeup. Then, as he turned the pages, he found a scattering of random, more recent shots. Paul goofing off in hotel rooms. Paul lounging in swim trunks by the pool. Paul in a tux sucking cake frosting off his fingers at Ace’s wedding.

         He was trying to hammer in his head that this was how Paul really was and really looked. He was trying to figure out if he’d still be attracted to him once he was back to normal. If he’d feel something while he looked at the pictures. Start getting hot under the collar, maybe, the way he did with Playboy centerfolds. But—well, Paul only tried provocative poses when he had on the greasepaint, and most everything in the album was barefaced and fairly candid. Gene wasn’t sure he was feeling anything beyond some fondness while looking over pictures of Paul in front of the Eiffel Tower or eating poi in Hawaii.

         That bothered him. Not that he was planning on jacking off to a stupid picture of Paul sitting shirtless on the hood of his car, but—he’d—he’d wanted something definite out of this. Arousal or repulsion. He needed to know. Whether Paul had wanted him for four days or four years, Gene owed him that much.

         The dull white noise of the shower cut off. Gene put the photo album and the book back on the shelf and waited for Paul’s returning footsteps. Maybe later tonight, he’d said. Maybe later than that.

--

         Paul spent longer than he meant to in there. Cleaned himself up, washed his hair and shaved. He’d gotten into the habit of shaving almost everything but his chest and sometimes his underarms because of the tours. Now that he was basically down to only having to worry about his underarms and legs, the effort took two minutes or less, leaving him just standing useless for awhile under the spray.

         He knew what his next move ought to be, just as well as Gene did. Invite him in, get rid of the whole virginity problem, and get back to normal. There was no reason to keep delaying it. He’d had his time with Gene. More of it than he probably deserved, the way that they’d already wormed themselves out of the curse’s terms of consummation, like wily lawyers with contracts.

         He wasn’t scared. Well. He wasn’t just scared. He knew it was probably going to hurt. He hadn’t tried to penetrate himself since that second night with Gene, and even Gene’s fingering had pretty much been rubbing. If he couldn’t tolerate a finger inside him, a dick would be even worse. Paul was tempted to blame it on Carol, but if one less-sexy Playboy article was anything to go by, it was really just his nerves. He’d have no bulwark against them, either, no drugs or alcohol, when he slept with Gene. When he really slept with Gene.

         That wasn’t his real problem, anyway. His real problem was the same as ever. Knowing it would all be over as soon as he let it happen.

         He skimmed a hand over one newly-smooth thigh, fingers sliding across his wet skin. Up to his stomach, then his breasts, idly pushing them together. Considering. Wondering how it must’ve felt for Pinocchio once he got everything he ever wanted, once he was flesh instead of wood. Funny how that was Gene’s takeaway from that movie. Work hard, get your wish. Input-output. But he wasn’t going to get his wish here. Paul couldn’t be a real girl for him. No part of him ought to have ever wanted to try.

         He’d just have to steel himself up for the end, that was all. Delaying it too long was only going to make it worse. It was—it was abysmal, not having taken care of it already, when he’d been so desperate to do it only the day before. But he couldn’t bring himself to commit just yet. Whether out of cowardice or longing, he didn’t know. He wanted to keep messing around with Gene as long as he could. Have Gene keep looking at him, keep touching him. Keep being with him. 

         He swallowed thickly, stepped out of the shower, and dried his hair off a bit with a towel, pulling on a bathrobe before heading back out to the living room. Gene was still on that same couch,  Hawaii Five-O playing in the background. Jack Lord was really starting to look craggy now.

         “You wanna go to bed?”

         “This early?” Gene looked a little amused, but Paul thought there might be something else there. Something on the border of disappointment.

         “There’s nothing on T.V.”

         “Did I play my cards right?”

         “You didn’t play them wrong. We can fool around some more. I’ll keep my top off.”

         It was a lousy offer for a guy who had girls chomping at the bit to sleep with him, and Paul knew it. But the grin he got in response was enough to make some of his guilt, some of his self-disgust, ease off, if only briefly.

         “C’mon, I’ve got an idea.”

--

         Gene followed him to the bedroom affably, taking off his borrowed t-shirt and tossing it on the floor. He didn’t start on his pants, but Paul did for him, unzipping and tugging them down. Gene’s mouth crooked up, uncertain but pleased.

         “You’ve got an awfully wide berth for fooling around, Paul.”

         “I’ve got an awful lot of practice.” Paul untied his bathrobe but didn’t take it off yet. Unsurprisingly, there was nothing beneath it. His hair was still pretty wet, skin pink from the shower. The musky scent of him was almost gone, rinsed away by the shower and soaps, only readily apparent again when Gene’s hand moved between his thighs. It was kind of a thrill to find that earlier hadn’t been a fluke. Paul just kept getting wet for him easier than even a groupie.

         Kissing down his neck as he kept stroking, getting a couple soft grunts in response, Gene wondered what Paul was up to. He was positioned a little awkwardly, legs spread wide, with Gene kneeling in the space between them. Paul kept shifting on the bed, posture a little stiff. Not like yesterday; he just seemed like he was deliberating, anticipating. Gene didn’t think Paul was comfortable enough to pull out any toys or handcuffs. Even light bondage seemed like a little much. Possibly—

         “Did you want to 69?”

         “Nah, I hate that shit. Give me your hand.”

         “Paul, if you’re going to tie me up, I want a striptease first.”

         Paul shrugged off the bathrobe and tossed it at him with a grin.

         “I’m not gonna tie you up, Jesus. Just give me your hand.”

         Impishly, Gene offered the right one, already soaked in Paul’s fluids. He was surprised when Paul took it, grabbing his wrist and pressing Gene’s palm into his cleavage, guiding it up and down. Gene felt a shiver run up his back, dick stiffening to full attention when Paul let go of his hand. The thin streaks of clear fluid left behind were their own promise, one that only got more definite as Paul lowered himself onto the bed, gesturing for Gene to come forward. He did, straddling him carefully, cock resting between his slightly-slick breasts. Paul squeezed them together experimentally, the brief pressure enough to make Gene twitch. Fuck. He hadn’t even fantasized about this one. Fucking Paul against the wall, eating him out--sure, sure. Paul letting him go for a titfuck had been way too far out of the realm of possibility for him to picture.

         “It’s enough, right?” Paul’s voice was soft, vaguely pleased. Gene grunted an assent. They were definitely enough. Another squeeze, though Gene hadn’t tried to thrust yet, Paul watching for his reaction. “Figured we could put them to some use.”

         “What’re you getting out of this?”

         “The same thing you got out of me getting off on your leg. A good view.” Paul reached a hand up, stroking along Gene’s arm. “Now c’mon, I don’t wanna have to put K-Y on my tits.”

[paradigmaticsims]

18th Century Pleasantview: Unhappy Marriages

Ok, that’s not really fair two of them are not necessarily unhappy but they’re not based on romantic love. This is just me setting up the same kind of thing the game tells you to do, but hopefully after that I will do more different things with these sims.

This post is like, really long, too long, its stupidly long.

......

I know I said I would go to Pascal Curious next, but then I thought of how glorious it would be to see Daniel Pleasant in a powdered wig and how could I deprive anyone reading of that?

This shot is not historical, just kinda cool looking. I will take that swimming pool away from you Daniel…. When I can be bothered to makeover the house.

So Daniel has the affair with Kaylynn and all that, Mary-Sue finds out.

Daniel apparently didn’t want that to happen and goes into aspiration decline. They’re staying together though, cause divorces are difficult for women to get and I think it’ll be more interesting this way.

Cassandra and Angela enjoying the stereo while they still can.

Then Angela and Lilith start fighting and Cassandra just keeps dancing awkwardly like the useless lesbian she is.

Now featuring proper underwear, Daniel is balding underneath the wig.

Lilith has ANGST! Which I mean, I don’t disbelieve her, her family is in shambles.

Angela and Dustin’s first kiss

Lilith sneaking out with her son of an artist bf: Lol Angela would never do this.

Me: I mean Angela’s dating a peasant (and in my mind a revolutionary) so I actually think she wins.

Lilith sneaks back and Daniel is like, right there, but they just blank each other. I guess he can’t really lecture anyone right now.

..........

Onto the Goths now! I’m in the process of actually caring about making over their house.

I like the piano shots.

Cassandra and Don’s wedding (but it’s a sham marriage that they’re both in on). I forgot I must once have had a hack that makes sims wear their formalwear instead of the default wedding gear?

Ahh I figure out how to force them into their formal wear too late, so hear is Cassandra’s ironic wedding dress, and Don’s frock coat. Mortimer and Alexander dancing is cute.

Don, Don, Don, Don… DON we have multiple baths on this lot. You married a rich sim you no longer have to wash like a poor person…. in the kitchen... in view of everyone.

Don: Hey I married a rich sim, this means I can have a sponge bath in the bathroom… wait bath what?

I like the piano, piano shots are cool.

Oh hey Don finally figured out the bath! Good for him.

This is cute, Don tucking in Alexander.

Here’s my attempt so far of trying to Georgify the Goth house, while maintaining an old and creepy vibe. I probably don’t know enough about 18th century houses but who cares it’s not like there’s enough cc out there to make it accurate to within the 1790s or something so close enough is good enough.

Cassandra embarrassed by her father marveling at the fact that rain exists.

I want to use colours in the interior design! But still colours that are unusual, or a bit sickly, something to show that the Goths are still weird.

Don is bi cause I think that makes him easier to like. He thinks the butler’s hot.

Cassandra: And once day we’ll have a baby, we’ll give it toys, and play with it and give it all the attention a child needs.

Alexander, an actual child who exists in the here and now: Wooo! Look at me I got an A+ I crave attention!

Everyone: *ignores*

..........

Random scene from the Broke house.

This will only make Dustin more acab.

..........

At Nina and Dina’s house:  I forgot the burglar’s sack uses cartoon logic and is thus able to carry hot tubs.

Mortimer is awake while this happens, but just decides to dip instead. I guess when you’re rich you don’t care about poor people’s problems, even if you are dating courting one of those poor people.

Dina goes into full on meltdown over this, I don’t usually play fortune sims so I underestimated how much it would affect her.

Dina’s memory of this trauma inducing event is just ‘nice to meet you stranger’

MOOD

I wish this guy spawned in a different hood, so I could just leave his magnificent hipster aesthetic be.

..........

Back at the Goths and unfortunately my game crashed when I was playing the Goths before they hired a butler, so this time we get a new guy and he looks fun. (I would like an 18th century butler outfit default, that would be a cool thing that I have no idea how to do).

Mortimer I know you might not be the most social ques aware guy, but talking about the hotness of your new fiancé to your daughter is weird, just fyi.

To my great disappointment Don is not attracted to the new butler, which I do not get, Don are you seeing this?

I see Cassandra as being mostly gay and their marriage as mostly a sham, but she is at least bi enough to initiate trying for baby this one time. Cause sexuality on sims and in reality is more fluid and complicated than we give it credit for. Though I think she mostly just wants the baby cause maxis inexplicably made her a family sim. She’s the sims version of Wednesday Addams and they made her goal to get married and have babies? I do want her to have one kid for the sake of inheritance, but after that I’m making her a knowledge sim. Anyway despite all that I think this is a pretty picture.

I love the custom greetings.

Dina and Mortimer’s wedding, during the day and at the Goth house, cause it makes no sense for Mortimer to move in with Dina and Nina in their tiny house, wouldn’t Dina want to move in with Mortimer in his big old money house? I think she would. Plus her being in the same house with Cassandra and Don makes for maximum awkwardness.

Dina: Hey congrats on your hotness! Meanwhile Cassandra is applying far too much logic to be interesting to Nina.

Don and Cassandra have an open marriage with no jealousy set for both of them. Even so Nina just openly serenading Don right in front of Cassandra does seem a bit tactless.

On his own wedding day all the young people just ignore Mortimer.

Nina and Dina get to a point in the grief cycle where they feel it necessary to bad mouth the burglar.

Don asking the important questions: But did you… have sex with the burglar?

I forgot that reading kids to sleep was a thing you could do in game. This is cute.

Maybe Don and the butler were just meant to be bros.

The ‘Legacy Career’ is just a living off an inheritance. I 100% believe this is how rich people operate.

Cassandra, starting with how your Mum got abducted by aliens is probably not the best way to impress a girl. You ease into that.

Cassandra, who is pregnant, wet herself and then passed out and apparently these were things she was scared of so much that she hits aspiration failure. And I’m here to say that is just way too high a standard to be setting for yourself. Also the butler served people beer as food which is the real problem rn.

I like this picture, I don’t know why there’s not food when there is, but I like it. Don should get a new coat.

Look at these three queer, and mostly pregnant disasters.

I made over the butler, I took some liberties, but I mean he’s blue. I imagine he used to be a pirate. Don, I don’t understand you.

But at least he has learnt the ways of the bath.

The end. Now I have to see if I can fix some bugs.

[thebiasrekkers]

Fragmentation 0.3 - MYG

Plot: How does one measure freedom? Are our choices truly our own, or are they part of a preset design outside of our control? We all have a question burning inside of us, though few speak it out. It is the question that drives us forward, seeking purpose in our lives. What is The Matrix?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | The Matrix!AU | angst | sci-fi | action | drama

Pairing: N/A

Warnings: Strong language, allusions to suicide, extreme angst, graphic violence

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 2,206

AN: Now it’s Yoongi’s time to shine. And that is an allusion to different things. I’ll let you decide what I’m talking about. As I stated before, all information in the universe can be found on the official Matrix Wiki so please use that as a reference guide if you ever get confused!

Tag List: @aroseforyoongi​, @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432​

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Heavy grunts of pain rang out in the storage shed. The distinct sound of something large hitting something soft echoed in the small space. A sliver of light pooled in through the foggy window, illuminating the particles of dust that lingered in the air. Every so often, something wet would hit the wall or the floor. Sometimes both.

“What’s the matter, Yoongi? Not gonna join in?”

A bat whisked through the air, coming down to land on a person’s back. They yelled out in agony, their fingers scraping across the dirt and concrete beneath them.

“Psh, whatever. You know he thinks he’s too good to get his hands dirty.”

A kick landed true, hitting the person straight in the ribs. They coughed, spittle and blood staining the floor.

“He’s not above watching, though.”

Min Yoongi’s face was as neutral as ever - giving away nothing. A cigarette was perched between his lips, the smoke billowing into his line of sight. He casually brushed at the sleeve of his school uniform, watching his fellow classmates pummel someone relentlessly with no real justification. Other than the kid was a scholarship student and didn’t come from actual money. 

Yoongi didn’t have anything against him personally. As far as he was concerned, it didn’t really have anything to do with him. But he knew that if he didn’t at least participate in some form or fashion, his “friends” would open their stupid fucking mouths and tell their daddies how he didn’t “play nice” with his classmates. These entitled punks were the future of the world - deciding how and when and who would climb up in the ranks in society.

Money talked and the circles that existed within high society were suffocatingly small.

“This is stupid,” he muttered, standing from his chair. He crushed the ember of the cigarette out against the wall before flicking it off to the side. “I’m leaving.”

The three boys stopped their assault on the freshman, eyeballing Yoongi curiously. Curtis, the one who initiated this little event in the first place, cracked his neck as he turned to face him fully. The smirk on his face practically dripped “I am a pompous asshole”.

“Don’t have the stomach for it, Yoon?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he leaned down to pick up his school bag. “No, I just don’t have time to play your bullshit games today.” Yoongi adjusted his jacket sleeve so he could look at his watch. “I have piano lessons in half an hour.”

He bumped his shoulder against Curtis’s chest, silently telling him he needed to get out of his way. The taller man did, stepping to the side so Yoongi could get to the door. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he pushed against it and exited the storage shed. The beating continued and he didn’t look back.

“Young Master,” a voice called out to him.

Yoongi looked up, noticing his family’s butler, Roland,  as he stood beside the large black luxury car parked by the side street. He sighed, brushing some of his hair out of his eyes and then stepping toward the vehicle. Roland opened the door for him and without a single glance of acknowledgement, he flopped into the soft leather cushions of the backseat. The passenger side door opened and Roland entered, their driver pulling the car out to head for Yoongi’s next destination.

“Did you have a good day today, Young Master Yoongi?”

He shrugged, propping his elbow along the door to stare out of the window. “It’s whatever,” he replied nonchalantly, “same stupid boring shit day after day. What’s good about any of it?”

Roland cleared his throat some. “Tomorrow is always another day, Young Master.”

“Yes, Roland.” Yoongi closed his eyes. “Yes it is.”

Piano lessons went as they always did. Even when he was irritated, Yoongi always found a way to focus on the music. He didn’t even need to look at the sheet music anymore. He’d memorized everything in his practice books and took to adding his own variations to the music. Classic. Modern. None of it mattered. So long as he could let his body and mind disappear among the keys of ebony and ivory, then that was all he cared about. All he could will himself to care about.

As soon as the hour was over, Yoongi was forced to leave his small sanctuary. He bid his piano teacher farewell as Roland ushered him back out to the car. The next stop was Cram School. The moment of peace, his mental safe haven, was pulled from him as he was thrust into another suffocating atmosphere.

Once again, he was surrounded by the collective Elite - all born and bred for a purpose seemingly “greater” than themselves. A purpose that was determined before their conception; a purpose that wasn’t of their choosing.

It never was.

The real question was why? Why weren’t they able to choose? Who decided that choice was an illusion? 

The professor droned on and on. Yoongi zoned out about halfway through the lecture, his wrist moving back and forth - scribbling notes that had nothing to do with the lesson. Honestly, he wanted to ditch cram school and head to a nearby arcade where he could waste hours mindlessly playing video games with random strangers. At least in that kind of atmosphere, he didn’t have to worry about being judged. Yoongi had no need for a plastic smile and false compliments. He could just be an ordinary teenager and maybe, just maybe, he would have been able to make a friend.

But that was a reality that was outside of the realm of possibility for him. Min Yoongi was the heir of a multi-million dollar corporation. Friendship? Purpose? Free of judgment?

That life was far outside of his reach.

“Mister Min.”

Yoongi blinked, his vision focusing back on his notebook. He slowly lifted his head up to see that his teacher and fellow classmates were all eyeballing him. Dropping his pencil, he straightened his posture, feeling the heaviness of their gazes weighing his chest down. 

“Yes?”

“I asked if you would come up and solve this equation.” His teacher, Mr. Jameson, frowned as he set the dry erase marker down. “Are you feeling alright?”

There was a soft pounding at the back of his head, increasing the pressure behind his eyes. Yoongi pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to shake off the pain. But it steadily increased. He groaned, staggering to his feet. 

“Actually, I think I need to go,” he murmured. 

He reached down and scooped up his school bag, disregarding his notebook and pencil box that was still on his desk. A hand fell on his shoulder and Yoongi flung his arm out, knocking the person back roughly. 

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” His voice boomed through the room, silencing almost everything. For a split second, Yoongi thought he saw the lights flickering a shade of green. “...don’t put your hands on me.”

No one made a move to go after him. He preferred it that way. The pounding at the back of his head was increasing, followed by a distinct ringing sound bouncing around in his ear canals. Beads of sweat bubbled around his temples and dripped from the end of his nose. He ignored the stares of other students and faculty members of the Cram School as he stumbled his way toward the front entrance.

Rain fell in cascading waves, washing over Yoongi’s shoulders and soaking him through almost instantly. His eyes tried to spot where Roland was, but the black sedan was lost among so many other similarly styled vehicles in the area. As he turned to walk down the street, he felt his chest slam into someone. Stumbling back, Yoongi lost his footing and fell to the concrete, his bag slipping from his fingers. 

Looking up through the rain, he saw three men clad in suits. Even in the dark, they wore sunglasses. He found it a little bizarre, but kept his comments to himself. Yoongi saw all three men crane their necks to look down at him simultaneously. They made no motion to help him back to his feet and he, in turn, didn’t move from the ground. There was something immensely foreboding about their presence, causing goosebumps to pepper out across the back of his neck.

“Young Master!”

Yoongi heard Roland’s voice, but he remained focused on the three men in front of him. They never took their eyes off of him and he did the same. A cold feeling snaked up his chest, freezing the inside of his lungs and throat. He couldn’t speak. He could barely breathe. The pounding in his head intensified, his vision swimming momentarily.

Everything came into sharp focus when he felt his body being yanked up violently. His ears quit ringing and he felt Roland clinging to him protectively. Yoongi’s feet moved at his butler’s insistence, ushering him to where the car was. But just before they were out of earshot, he heard one of the men speak.

“See you again, Mr. Min.”

Roland quickly opened the door and Yoongi hopped inside, his breathing coming in swift intervals. He felt his butler slide into the seat beside him, ordering the driver to make haste. As he did so, he rubbed soothing circles on Yoongi’s back. It did little to quell the raging thunder of his own heartbeat, but at least he could hear the water hitting the window from how fast they were driving in the storm. 

“Young Master.” 

The sound of Roland’s deep voice brought him out of whatever trance Yoongi was placed under. Blinking rapidly, he turned to look at the man that was with him since he was a child. The look on Roland’s face was different; an expression that he’d never seen before. Or was it that he simply hadn’t paid any attention until now?

It was kindness and empathy. Like he, in that moment, could truly understand what Yoongi was feeling.

“R-Roland,” he managed to stammer, his hands reaching out to grasp the sleeves of Roland’s jacket, “w-what is happening?” He coughed. “Who were those guys?”

“Bad men.” Roland’s brows furrowed. “Very bad men.”

“How do you know that?”

“That isn’t as important as what I’m about to tell you next.” He reached behind him, pressing a button on the back panel to raise the divider between the backseat and driver’s cabin. “Young Master, I’m afraid that you’ve been pinged.”

Yoongi felt a lump forming in his throat. “What?” His grip tightened on Roland’s arms. “What the hell does that even mean?!”

“Now that you’re on their radar, they will begin pursuing you. They want to make sure that you won’t be able to discover the truth.”

“What truth, Roland?!” Yoongi felt the adrenaline shredding through his veins. “You’re not making any sense!”

“I’m sorry, Young Master, but I don’t have a lot of time to explain everything in detail. I can only help show you the way.” Roland gently urged Yoongi to release his arms so that he could move them. He placed his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders. “The rest is up to you.”

“Roland…”

Suddenly, Roland reached down below the seat. When he pulled his hand back, he was holding an automatic hand pistol. What calm settled over Yoongi’s heart was instantly destroyed. Roland pressed the button on the back panel, lowering the divider between both sections of the vehicle. 

“Wait, Roland...what are you doing?!”

The butler, the man who’d taken care of him for most of his life, smiled as he aimed the gun at the back of the driver’s head.

“Goodbye, my Young Master.”

He wasn’t fast enough to see what was about to happen. Even if he had, there was no way that Yoongi would have been prepared. The ear splitting crack of the gun firing off made him scream as blood sprayed across the windshield. His hearing was muffled and the ringing returned. Covering his ears was pointless, but he did it anyway.

Yoongi’s center of gravity shifted drastically as the car swerved. Tears streamed down his face as he saw Roland aiming the gun to his own head. The sound that erupted from his body was inhuman, like that of a beast crawling out from the depths of Hell itself. The second gunshot caused a flash of light to flare up in the small space as chunks of meat and bone exploded through the curtain of blood spray. 

There wasn’t enough time for him to mourn. Everything shifted into darkness as strings of green numbers and letters took on the shapes of the vehicle, the driver, and Roland. The terror scratching over his entire body seemed to cease. For a few brief seconds, Yoongi forgot about the two corpses in his presence and how the vehicle was out of control. Reaching a hand out, he tried to touch the strings of code.

The shrill sound of a semi-truck’s horn brought him back to reality. As he turned his head, he was blinded by a set of headlights. They blared on continuously, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. It was inevitable. 

Yoongi smiled seconds before impact.

“Welcome to the Real World.”

[sethrine-writes]

Heat of the Ocean

Fandom:  Devil May Cry 5

Pairing:  Merman!V x F!Reader

Words:  2678

Warnings:  Rated E - Spicy content ahead, sexual themes

Commission Request:  900 words, merman!V in his heat/rut, marking (biting/scratching) light dom/sub undertones, possessive V, creampie, breeding kink, hair pulling.

A/N: This commission was requested by the super lovely @mysticalkhfan! She is an absolute sweetheart, and I can't thank her enough for her patience! Thank you so much for commissioning me, dear!

------

V had been acting strange the past couple of days.

It had come on rather suddenly, whatever affliction it was that was causing the merman to act all out of sorts, and it was concerning. You worried that it was contagious and could spread to the others you had come to know, Nero and Kyrie and the elder twin brothers who mostly kept to themselves, but ended up visiting out of sheer curiosity, much like everyone else.

Oddly enough, none of them seemed any worse for wear. In fact, none of them seemed remotely concerned over V's behavior, and you wondered if, perhaps, it was a normal occurrence amongst their kind.

Whatever it was, it all started with the excessive touching.

V rather liked touching your skin. You often found yourself nearly waist-deep out in the ocean's more shallow region near your secluded home, the iridescently colored mer content below the water's surface to swim about you lazily and brush against your legs or popping up to smooth webbed fingers over your arms as you read poetry books to him. For two days straight, however, the touching felt more possessive, more grabby and demanding the longer you stayed in the water.

The day after noticing the somewhat subtle change, a frightening altercation occurred, one you never would have expected to see from V's docile nature.

Just like the days previous, he was being rather handsy, nose perpetually pressed into your ribcage while his hands stroked at your legs in large, sweeping motions, occasionally peeking up and motioning for you to kiss him. You were sat near the shoreline, though submerged enough in the water that there was a constant pool of it about your hips as you leaned against one of the many large rock formations that scattered the shallows of the beach.

There was movement in the deeper waters that caught your eye, and you looked up just in time to see two heads breach the surface. Eagerly, you waved to the two mers, Nero and Kyrie, smiling as the latter gave a beaming smile that lit her speckled features. Nero began leading them closer at your acknowledgment of them, most likely appearing for a visit on his mate's behest-

V had turned so sharply, you barely had the chance to call out his name before he was scrambling towards Nero, unleashing ungodly hisses and exposing the large, razor-sharp teeth mostly hidden behind unassumingly plush lips. His spine was arched sharply, and the winged finds indicating his ears, as well as the ridge along his spine, had flared out in both an impressive and frightening display of intimidation.

Nero, poor thing, had not expected such a hostile welcome and reacted in-kind, hackles raised and expressing the same intimidating features as V in a form of defense. Kyrie remained behind Nero, if a bit more hidden than before, and you could tell that she was both frightened and rather confused. Even Nero seemed confused for a good moment before his flared find suddenly receded, eyes narrowing curiously. Several sharp clicking sounds left his throat, and then he was promptly leading Kyrie back into deeper waters. They didn’t seem to go too far, intent on playing around close by, mindful of V's sudden need for space.

It took a few minutes for V to feel comfortable again, even with you having stood and moved to his side to comfort him with cautious fingers sifting through the damp fringe of his white hair. When all his features began to relax once more, you knew he had calmed, at least enough for you to coax his attention away from the others with gentle words. He was immediate in nudging you back toward the rock, nearly pushing you down into the water in his haste to resume his form of cuddling.

Prodding him for answers resulted in only one, his words bitter and petulant through the mind-link you shared with him:

“He was too close, and I could not allow that.”

Cryptic, and so unlike him to be so sour, especially concerning Nero, but you let it be. No one had gotten hurt, at least not physically, and if it happened again, you would be sure to put a stop to it.

The following afternoon, everything began to make perfect sense.

You had shown up to V's favorite sunbathing spot just a bit further from the shoreline, sporting one of your usual swimsuits as well as a slightly water-stained copy of random poems by the late author William Blake. Much to your surprise, V wasn’t in his usual spot as you expected him to be, flaked out on his stomach and enjoying the warmth of the early afternoon sun on his pale back. Regardless, you moved to sit at the edge of the mostly smooth surface, feet and legs dangling into the water as you made yourself comfortable-

Only to scream a moment later as V propelled himself from the water and right against you. There was some floundering that followed the odd panic of the moment, but that died down into confused wiggling as V hovered over you upon the rock, slick webbed hands pinning yours next to your head as he stared down at you with near-bleary eyes, water dripping from his hair onto your face. He was panting, also, and looked as if he was possibly in pain, something that worried you greatly.

“V? What's…are you alright?”

Instead of answering, he pressed himself closer, completely soaking you with the water still dripping from his body. Surprisingly, he was rather warm, as if he had already been sunbathing before your arrival. Either that, or he was running a fever, something that didn’t seem possible.

You tried wiggling your hips in an attempt to slide out from underneath him, wanting to check him over for any signs of injury. You didn’t expect V's grip to tighten around your wrists, nor did you expect the trembling of his muscles, of which you felt all along your body. Looking up at him, you were aware that the pain in his features before had shifted, his eyes now closed and mouth parted just so.

He wasn't in pain, at least, not the type of pain you initially thought.

Curiously, you angled your hips a bit more upward and rolled your lower body against his to his reaction. Doing so garnered a rumbling growl from V, something he had never done before, as well as one of his hands reaching for your hair and giving it a firm, consistent tug until you were forced to follow the movement.

“Need you,” was whispered through the mind link you shared with him, his words low and dripping with barely contained desire.

A small gasp escaped your lips, eyes fluttering as you reached for his wrist, but did not pull him away, merely anchoring yourself.

The action must have been the tipping point because his mouth was against the side of your exposed neck not but mere seconds later, a cheeky tongue darting out between plush lips to taste the smooth skin there. You shivered at the sensation, something V must have liked, if the rumbling purr coming from deep within his throat was any indication.

A breathy moan escaped your lips as he began pulling patches of skin into his mouth with light suction, the tiniest pinpricks of his teeth threatening to break the surface the longer he remained there. He pulled at your hair once more, angling your head to the side to allow him more access to uncharted flesh, leaving behind blooming patches in his wake that would surely darken over time.

“I tried to hold back,” he spoke to you, lips and teeth and tongue trailing down across your chest, “I believed your company alone would be enough. I…miscalculated the nature of my wants, my desire.”

V's hands shifted, elongated nails scratching along your arm and leaving behind lines along your skin that sent tingles straight to your core. He made quick, laughable work of your swimsuit, shredding the fabric and pulling it from your body with an odd impatience that wasn’t like him.

The change in V, though a bit startling, was starting to affect you more than you wanted to admit.

“Y-you could’ve asked me,” you gasped, free hands reaching for the mer and earning nibbling kisses to your fingertips for your efforts.

“I was worried of scaring you,” he admitted, “I worry, still.”

You reached for him once more, fingers threading through silver-white hair and pulling his gaze to your own. He looked dazed, still a bit pained, but you were beginning to understand what was possibly going on, what it was that V really needed.

“You have me, V,” you told him, exhale shaky at the mere thought of what was about to occur. “You don't have to worry, alright? I can take it.”

The dilation of his eyes was sudden and prominent, the only warning you were given before he was ravaging your skin anew. His teeth were harsher, uncaring of leaving behind slightly bloody bites along your neck and chest and breasts. He was barely more gentle against your nipples, relenting on using his teeth at your small plea and the harsh, only somewhat panicked pull at his hair.

His tail was not idle, the shimmering appendage wriggling between your legs incessantly as if he couldn’t help himself. There was a definite hardness forming and pressing against your thigh, warm and rather slick as it slid against your skin with his movements. The more you were aware of it, the more insistent V's sounds became, little punched-out breaths and low hums that sounded like pleased moans.

He shifted to angle himself more against the apex of your legs, the first initial slide of his cock between your folds causing a surprised moan to pass your lips, hips lifting instinctually to chase the contact. A broken sound left V’s lips at your noises, nearly a frightening growl, if your mind wasn’t already knee-deep in pleasure.

“Be still,” he said, voice deep and sensual within your mind, and your body responded almost immediately, muscles relaxing until you were pliant against the rock with V pressing himself flush against you. A purr-like rumble emanated from his very chest, vibrating against the stiff peaks of your nipples. You gasped at the feeling.

“I need you,” he reiterated, sharp nails scraping at the skin of your hips delightfully, “in ways you cannot fathom. You are mine, my human, my mate.”

His words were punctuated by slow, hard grinds, the slippery slide of his cock against your clit driving you absolutely mad. There were little bumps along the underside of it, flared little ridges that had your nerves spasming with each quick pass over the sensitive, swollen nub, a constant stream of tiny little ah sounds passing your lips in delight.

Your shaking legs found the strength to wrap around his tail, just under the ridge along his spine, the action pulling him impossibly closer and harder against you.

“Yes, V! Please!”

“Mine to touch, mine to claim…mine to breed.”

He was shifting once more, pulling back just enough to raise his hips from yours. When he pressed back, he was breaching your folds, the smooth press of him filling you with ease, despite the girth of him. You could feel each little ridge from the underside of his cock as V continued to push into your welcoming heat, the sensation unlike anything else you had ever experienced, before.

When his hips touched yours again, he gave a final undulation of his tail to fully seat himself within you. The moan that left your lips was obscene and decadent, loud even in your ears, but you were beyond caring. V was inside you, a part of you, connected to you in the most primal, intimate way.

Your hands shook as they attempted to find purchase against the smoothness of his skin, opting to thread through his hair once more in some semblance of grounding yourself to the moment, grounding yourself to him.

“It…it isn't possible, I know,” he spoke through the link, his voice sounding utterly wrecked as his tail began to roll against you, taking your breath away with the momentarily blinding pleasure of the full movement from within you and against your throbbing clit. You weren’t even able to fully understand what he was saying, only knowing that he was speaking, the deep timbre sending tingles down your spine and further hiking the sensations you were feeling in that moment.

“Had I a way…had I some way…but I will fill you full of me, all of me, as many times as I m-must. My beautiful mate, my l-love-"

His tail rolled against you quicker, harder, grinding into you with a determined force that had you seeing stars. You were nearly in tears, gasping and groaning as V thrust into you as best he could. Every forward movement had him rubbing against your clit, the stimulation shaking your sweat-water-slicked legs something fierce.

You attempted to hike your legs higher, barely mindful of his spine ridge in the haze of your coupling. The new angle caused V to shift minutely within you, and suddenly, you were screaming, nails digging into his scalp and head thrown back in absolute ecstasy.

“There, th-there! Ah, V, please!”

V was practically snarling against you, pressing into you with harsh undulations, barely pulling out from the wet heat between your legs. His mouth was on your neck again, teeth working at bruising flesh as you trembled and shook and pulled at his hair. Sharp claws pressed into your hips like fine needle points, a harsher bite drawing a well of blood from against your collarbone, and you were done for.

Your climax came rushing over you swiftly, whiting out your vision as you choked on a cry, tears unknowingly escaping the corners of your eyes in the process. V continued to chase his own end, unaware of just how much he was elongating your own orgasm with the rippling sensations of his cock in and out of you.

When he finally reached that peak, his fingers were bruising in their grasp, claw-like nails digging further into your skin as he held himself in place against you. You could feel him filling you, long spurts of warmth that seemed almost never-ending. He stilled his movements after what felt like forever, remaining lodged within you as he attempted to catch his breath, gazing upon your wrecked visage in wonder and awe.

You tugged gently at his hair with shaking fingers, angling him closer to kiss at his crimson dotted lips. He obliged the notion, still not completely used to such a form of affection, but knowing it was important to you, all the same.

When he parted from your lips, you gave him a dopey smile, giggling a bit as you all but flaked out against the rock, uncaring of the small, sharp points you were now aware of digging into your shoulders.

V lifted from you a moment later, pulling out rather abruptly and moving away from you just as quickly. You gave a sharp gasp, sitting up just a bit to find the mer halfway submerged in the water, hands splayed on each one of your trembling thighs and eyes trained on the apex between them. You shifted shyly, feeling the mess that was already leaking from you, but V seemed rather enthralled.

He crooned, the sound nothing more than a chorus of high pitched chirps and clicks, then turned and began placing teasing, mouthy kisses along the soft skin of your thigh, nipping at the skin playfully. You gasped once more, leg jumping and core tingling at the attention.

“V?” you questioned, surprised at the hungry desire that still remained in his eyes.

“I've not had my fill of you, yet,” he mused, voice dipping into something more sinful, causing you to moan wistfully, “and I wish to see just how much more…accommodating your body can be.”

[siren-queen-imagines]

Fluff Alphabet: Cesaro

A fluff alphabet of the Swiss Superman that I wrote for the lovely @helluvawriter from my last writing blog. Hope you all enjoy!!

Masterlist

(gif by me)

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?): Cesaro has this romantic poetic side to him that he tends to show around you and only you these days. There are two things he’s found attractive about you: your eyes and your smile. He sees the eyes as the window to your soul and true feelings. He could get lost in them. And your smile...god your smile. So bright and happy whenever you smile at him. It never fails to make him smile back at you.

As far as you go, the list can go on and on about what you find attractive in Cesaro. But if you had to pick just one? It would definitely have to be his smile. He’s been a little insecure at times lately since he’s been wearing braces. During those times, you always make sure to find little ways to remind him that he still has a great smile.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?): Cesaro definitely wants a family but it’s not something he’ll rush into. He knows and understands the responsibilities of having children and doesn’t want to share you until he’s ready. He’ll want to enjoy your time together first. Cesaro wants a family because he likes the idea of raising children with the one he loves with all of his heart. Having mini-yous and hims to carry on your legacies. He looks forward to the day you two decide to start a family.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?): Your man loves to cuddle and will sneak it in at every chance he gets. Majority of the time, he loves to wrap his arms around you with your head resting on his chest. He knows how safe and loved it makes you feel. And every now and then, he’ll love when you’re laying down and you offer a cuddle the same way he holds you. He loves resting his head on your chest and listening to your heartbeat. 

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?): Dates with Cesaro are thoughtful and romantic. He loves getting dressed up with you and taking you to nice restaurants but he also tends to think of a reason why he chose that restaurant, such as it’s a new place you’ve always wanted to try or you wanted to go back because of a previous memory you two shared. One time, he took you to this lovely restaurant when he took you to visit him home town. After that, you two ended up on a walk  where he showed you some of his favorite places to go before you two found a pool. You two decided to go for a swim. It was something so simple but yet so romantic.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…)): “I love you, mein engel…” Cesaro will say every chance he gets. It took him a while before he finally told you that he calls you his angel in his native Swiss German. He knew you’d rather hear the translation from him than the internet. After he told you what he’s calling you, he’ll say it in English once in a while.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?): It was one of the simplest of moments when he knew he was in love with you. You were busy reading a book, completely caught up in the story, when you gasped at a certain part. Cesaro was on his phone and looked up when you gasped. He smiled lightly at how captivated you were that it got a reaction out of you. That’s when he realized that he was in love with you.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?): Cesaro is very gentle. He knows there can be a rough side to him considering what he does for a living but he makes sure that you know he cares so much about you. He tells you in the gentle kisses and the way he touches you.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?): He likes to hold hands with your fingers laced together. He’ll look to hold your hand while the two of you are watching TV in bed or just walking around. With your fingers entwined together sometimes his thumb with trace up and down yours.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?): In the beginning, Cesaro thought you were beautiful, kind and humble. The more time he got to spend with you he saw you as funny and even awkward but he loved that about you.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?): He isn’t a very jealous person. Mostly because he knew that not only were you all about him, but that if anyone tried anything he knew you’d make sure it would be known that you were taken. But there will be rare moments where jealousy rears its ugly head. And it’s not because he doesn’t trust you but because he doesn’t trust whoever is trying to hit on you.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?): Cesaro is a slow, passionate kisser. It’s the romantic in him and he loves to savor the feel on your lips on his. It was actually you who initiated the first kiss. He was so caught up in his head about when he should kiss you that it had been a few dates before you just couldn’t take it anymore.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?): You were the first to say I love you. Cesaro is a man who takes his time to think things through and he wanted to be sure before he said it. He didn’t want to say it unless he meant it because it would only hurt you in the end. When you said it, he was surprised but he was flattered by it. He had to stop you when you started ranting about how he didn’t have to say it back. He told you that he’s happy that you felt comfortable enough to tell him and that he wasn’t so sure he was ready to say it yet. He had been hurt in the past and he wanted to take his time which seemed to be longer than most people. He wanted you to be open with how you felt so if you ever wanted to say it again, he wouldn’t mind it. He also made sure that you knew that he would say it to you...he knew it he just needed to work through some past feelings. 

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?): His favorite memory of the two of you was your first getaway together. Normally most couples go to the beach or somewhere warm but he took you to a snowy cabin in the woods. He wanted to have you all to himself and use the excuse to cuddle you for warmth. But the thing that came to mind the most was when the two of you were sitting in front of a fire, covered in a blanket when the power went out. You two spent the outage using the fire as a source of light and played some board games that were left behind. 

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?): He wants to but you won’t let him spoil you. He’ll pick his battles and sometimes buy it behind your back to surprise you with later. But if you mention you want something, he’ll play it cool but buy it for you anyway, depending on what and when you need it. If you need it for work, for example, he’ll buy it immediately. Other times are for gifts for your birthday or Christmas. You always find yourself surprised by this but thankful. You make sure to return the surprise at a later time in a similar way.

O = Orange (What color reminds them of their other half?): It’s two: black and grey. It’s colors that he sees everywhere but he associates them with you. He thinks of you because it reminds him of when you borrow his shirts (which also happen to be his merch) and wear them around. 

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?): Cesaro likes to call you darling, babe and beautiful. He knows they’re simple and maybe even cliche but it just comes out of his mouth. It’s what he calls you when he’s not referring to you as “mein engel”.

Q = Quaint (What is their favorite non-modern thing?): He is a big fan of the James Bond franchise and he still owns a VCR. While he has the films on DVD and Blu-Ray as well, nothing beats having to watch his favorite movies on VHS.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?): Cesaro will take this as an opportunity to keep you in bed and be lazy all day. He’ll even be willing to get up and either make or go get some coffee for you two. He loves his coffee…

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?): Cesaro is an animal lover so when he’s feeling down, he’ll google pictures of puppies, kittens and other cute animals. If he knows you’re feeling down he’ll send you those pictures. If he can’t cheer himself up, he’ll always call you and see if you could come over. Majority of the time, you’re available and you come over and make his favorite meal. If you need cheering up, he’ll bring you over some junk food and cook for you.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?): He likes to talk about everything and anything with you. You guys will talk about movies, TV, your future, travel plans. It can get pretty random too. One minute you two are driving to the next arena and the next you guys are debating over who was the best villain in the James Bond series.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?): When you aren’t with him, Cesaro likes to cook. It helps him to clear his mind and just focus on the task in front of him. If you are with him, he’ll ask for you to rub his shoulders or gently scratch his head as he lays in you lap or on your chest.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?): One of the main things he’s proud to show off is you. You’re so amazing and wonderful that he can’t help but show you off to the world. He prides himself on holding high personal values so he makes sure to present himself as a professional in both his personal and work lives. 

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?): Cesaro is a romantic so he makes sure to take you somewhere special. He chooses to take you somewhere meaningful to your relationship like one of your hometowns or somewhere you both enjoyed. He tries to play coy so that you won’t suspect him so he’ll be sure to take you out in similar ways of previous dates. He’ll be sure to end the night somewhere you have a beautiful view before he gets down on one knee and asks you the big question.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?): It’s weird. Whenever you hear ‘Suit and Tie’ by Justin Timberlake, it makes you think of your Swiss Superman. Cesaro is a well dressed man and you can’t help but think of him. Love song, for Cesaro, it’s ‘Vision of Love’ by Mariah Carey. Your Spotify was shuffling as he was driving once while you were sleeping and he listened to the lyrics. He thinks of you and your relationship when he heard it.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?): Oh definitely. Cesaro thinks of getting married but he wants to take his time. He’s not gonna rush into it because he knows he doesn’t need papers to say he’ll spend the rest of his life with you. He’ll get them on you eventually but he’s gonna enjoy everything and every moment he has with you. 

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?): Animal lover to the core, choosing one pet would be hard. But if he had to choose, he would start with a dog. He has no preference as to the breed because he knows it’s gonna be the best doggo. 

[vodkabite]

Our Little Secret - Act 1, Preview

To liven the mood inside the dimly lit basement, while cursing at the horribly cheap lightbulbs she bought from the Circle K off Elmwood, Nicole shares a random fact she knows: Superman didn’t always fly; in the beginning he could only leap over buildings, but the animators for the animated series they were doing in the 40s thought it would be too difficult to constantly draw his knees bending, it was easier to draw him in one pose and have him fly.

And how Major League Baseball once had female players; the first was Lizzy Arlington, who pitched during the ninth inning for the Reading Coal Heavers in 1898 and won her team the game, and a little over 30 years later, an African-American woman, Jackie Mitchell, pitched against the Yankees during an exhibition game, striking out both Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig.

Nicole’s always been one for sharing random facts about things, especially to the break an awkward silence or change someone’s mood. And while Waverly is probably sure that the alpha spends her downtime at the station searching the internet for new things to talk about, she finds it cute. Adorable even, the way it eases the tediousness of doing laundry.

And as she crosses her legs, letting her feet dangle freely in the air against the side of the filing cabinet she sits upon, Waverly stares at Nicole from the corner of her eyes. Through the loose strands of hair that have fallen to form a curtain against the side of her face.

A thought crosses Waverly’s mind: I want to know you, see you, feel you.

Nicole grabs a heap of clothes from the dryer, mostly blacks and grays, and puts them on the folding table for separation. Her hands and fingers glide over the different fabrics, gripping the end of a sleeve or hooking under a collar and swiftly folding them to make a pile. The veins swimming through her wrists and up her arms quietly peeking out from beneath her skin—Waverly licks her lips. It feels nice, getting to be alone with Nicole without constant distractions and interruptions.

She has a great smile, a disarmingly perfect smile, and Waverly wants to see more of it.

The past few years had chipped away the once frequent sight of it, leaving a tightly lipped, exhausted, and irritable grin in its wake. Nicole grits her teeth more often now, due to frustration and impatience. The tension in her muscles defining the sharp curve of her jawline; a feature that hadn’t gotten lost with the weight gain.

Waverly folds another shirt, one of Nicole’s many black undershirts, and leaves it closer to her side than the others.

It’s comforting.

Though, the omega notices the pinched nerve expression on the alpha’s face. Frustration rippling through the air as she organizes the clothes into neat piles, sometimes refolding the same pile several times until all the shirts are in uniform.

Being a police officer, even in a dull town like Purgatory, must be hard; clocking in early and signing stacks of paperwork every day, patrolling the monotonously boring streets just hoping for some excitement. Waverly can’t imagine that coming home is any easier: having to make sure Wynonna and Willa don’t kill each other, driving Waverly to school in the morning and from cheerleading practice in the afternoons.

With Mama being gone so often, Nicole is the only adult who can keep the house in order. Doesn’t help that the washing machine turns off again. The on button keeps coming unstuck during the middle of cycles, needing to be pressed to resume working.

And each time, Nicole presses it with more and more force.

The tension is palpable and she wonders if the alpha had ever… done anything to ease her frustrations.

Waverly is reminded of the times she laid at night with her bedroom door closed after a long and stressful day, searching the internet for a video to masturbate to. The front pages of the sites she usually visits are oversaturated with amateur videos that are less than five minutes long with abysmal film and sound quality, or the more professionally done videos that are always filled with cheesy, half-baked storylines barely stitched together by basic comprehension of plot structure and graphic closeups. Not to mention the overly exaggerated moans by the actors and the director’s near obsessive need to always include at least one POV shot.

But what interests her, is that they all shared the same kind of theme: relieving tension. Whether it’d be an injured frustrated patient getting a blowjob from their extremely busty nurse, or the pool boy being seduced by a woman twice his age who’s frustrated by the lack of attention from her husband, as though sex and all aspects of it is simply a means to an end.

Waverly looks to Nicole again, shoving another batch of clothes into the dryer.

“Nicole?” The alpha turns to her, giving a final dirty look at the washing machine before settling down, more to hide what she feels so the omega wouldn’t see; pretending that nothing is wrong.

But Waverly knows better.

Dropping down from the filing cabinet, Waverly pulls Nicole by her wrists, bringing the alpha to stand in front of her.

“Nicole, I… you…” The words die on her tongue.

Instead, her hands speak for her. Running up Nicole’s forearms, pressing lightly against the veins to feel the alpha’s pulse thrum vibrantly beneath the pad of her thumb. Nicole is frozen still, confused. But her skin responds brilliantly. A shiver runs through, goosebumps rising in its wake as Waverly’s hands find their way over her biceps.

Waverly’s hands continue their exploration: the hardness of her shoulders, the softness of her sides, the muscles of her back, fingertips lightly drifting down the curve of her spine; committing each and every detail to memory. Finally, she reaches the hem of Nicole’s old basketball shorts. Her excitement grows, much like a fever as she slips a finger past the waistband. Breath hitching at the thin hairs that bristle against her index finger. Immediately, the omega’s hands are pulled away. The alpha’s grip is strong, her honey-golden eyes searching Waverly’s own.

For a moment, no one moves.

Part of Waverly fears that she has crossed a line she won’t be able to take back, but the other part, the eager and hungry side of her, takes hold and she takes the deadly plunge. Pulling Nicole forward and kissing her.

Nicole is tense at first, though, she soon quickly melts against Waverly. The acceptance brings forth another surge of confidence; the omega presses their bodies together, adamant in keeping less than a sliver of space between them. Backing into the washing machine that had now sputtered and died, for the third time that afternoon, Nicole is the one who breaks the kiss first. Taking the lead and picking Waverly up and placing the omega on top of the washer.

Even though the red blush that colors her face burns like hell itself, Waverly pulls the basketball shorts low enough to reach through the alpha’s boxers for her cock.

She thumbs at the top of her cock gently, rubbing the sticky drop of precome around with the pad of her thumb, making a mess of the wet spot that grows against the fabric, but the way Nicole inhales deeply above her shakes Waverly to her core. Dear God, fuck, is it everything she’s ever imagined. Waverly presses the flat of her palm along the thick shaft, firmly squeezing and effectively choking off another moan before it can even form. Sliding her other hand down to pull her boxers off, Nicole takes the initiative to help, springing herself free. Uncharacteristically, Waverly stares at the hardened member resting against the cold metal edge of the washing machine between her legs. Awkwardness quickly gives way to awe and hungry praise when she wraps her hand around the shaft and feels a pulse.

Waverly finally begins to stroke Nicole, she does it slowly, still mesmerized by the sounds the alpha makes because of her. It’s a bit too dry without some sort of slick to ease the fiction, so, much like what she’s seen countless of times online, she licks her palm. The wetness makes it slippery, easier, gaining Waverly a high-pitched groan that makes her toes curl; warmth spreading through her chest.

Nicole starts to buck into Waverly’s hand and the omega can only watch, spellbound by her rutting hips desperately trying to reach climax. Letting go, she pulls the Nicole into another kiss, roping her arms around the alpha’s shoulders to keep her in place.

Yet, they break away for a quick second. Waverly wants to whine for the momentary lack of contact, but is shocked still as Nicole mounts the otherwise small surface of the washing machine. It creaks and groans helplessly under their combined weight, and while she wonders if the poor thing can actually support them both, she gasps at how roughly Nicole moves into her, hand accidentally slamming onto the on button.

The omega doesn’t know what hits her first: the vibrations shaking her entire body to the core, or Nicole’s cock slipping beneath the leg of her shorts and rubbing against the front of her sex.

Her cheeks burn hot with another wave of heat flooding between her thighs. Nicole never looks at her, just keeps her eyes screwed shut as though she knows that as much as eye contact turns Waverly on, the omega won’t be able to last with it. Nicole moves faster, rolling into the feeling like her life depended on it; the friction of the alpha’s solid weight moving against her clit is enough to drive Waverly wild. And as such, a sharp cant of Nicole hips leaves her shattered.

Nicole isn’t far behind, her thrusts start to falter; her speed and intensity wane considerably under the consistent vibrations bringing her towards that inevitable—

“Waves?” She blinks and Nicole stands before her, concerned. “Are you alright? I asked if you wanted to order pizza and you just spaced out on me.”

A hand is placed to Waverly’s forehead. “Hm, you don’t have a fever.”

“No, no, I-I was just… daydreaming,” She says saving face, sounding breathier than she wants to. Nicole shrugs her shoulders and finishes up the rest of the laundry, kicking at the washing machine, cursing it and murmuring that she’ll need to buy another one.

All Waverly can do is breath a sigh of relief when no one is looking.

[moonbeambucky]

The Price of Gold (Part 3)

Pairing: Lance Tucker x Reader Word Count: 3019 Warnings: flashbacks within flashbacks, fluff

Summary: As a sports journalist you’ve traveled the world interviewing famous athletes. You’ve loved your job up until you find out your next article is on the last person in the world you ever wanted to talk to, Lance Tucker.

A/N: This doesn’t follow The Bronze canon though some film details are mixed with real world events. Written for @green-eyeddragonfanfiction Dragon’s 3k Follower Creative Content Challenge. My prompt was “I can’t be in love with you!” gif source (x)

PART 2 | THE PRICE OF GOLD MASTERLIST

Logging off your computer you looked around your desk to make sure things were in order, quickly unplugging your phone charger from the USB port before stuffing it into your bag. Heather caught up with you near the elevator, she was still overjoyed for your trip which you needed to get home and pack for.

“When was the last time you went back to Florida?” she asked.

Your mouth pulled to the side as you scanned your memories, “About three years ago, when my parents sold their house.”

They downsized to a condo in St. Petersburg near the water so your father could finally buy a boat and enjoy his retirement. You remember the trip vividly, coming down for a long weekend to assist with packing and finally clearing out your old bedroom.

As the cab turned down your block all of the memories of Spring Hill you had left behind suddenly hit, making your stomach uneasy. You couldn’t help but gaze over towards Lance’s old house, shuddering as you pictured the countless times you spent there.

Running inside your house quickly you hugged your parents, choking back tears as you saw how your childhood home was packed away into boxes stacked up in the living room. You looked out to the pool, a luxury you did not have access to in New York.

It had been retiled some years ago but otherwise it remained the same. It was the place you could go to de-stress, floating on an inflatable chair as you soaked up the sun’s rays, the place you had fun, laughing with friends as you jumped into the pool splashing everyone with a cannonball, and all of the times you spent there with Lance.

“One, two, three, go!” you said, kicking off the wall, moving your arms and legs in tandem as you swam across to the other side of the pool. Reaching the wall you saw Lance had stopped midway. “Come on!”

“I… I can’t!” he quivered, swimming back to the starting point of your impromptu race.

Lance stood up, reaching his arms back on the edge of the pool and pushed himself to sit, his feet dangled in the water as his head hung low. Swimming back towards him you did the same, nudging your wet arm against his. “What’s wrong?”

Lance wrestled with his emotions, he was ashamed, feeling too scared to swim in the deep end of the pool. He was ten years old, he wasn’t a baby anymore so why did he feel like one? He wasn’t sure if he was more embarrassed over the fact that he was scared or that you would find out the truth about why he’s insisted on playing games and swimming in the shallow end of your pool. He was certainly glad his father wasn’t there; he would have slapped him, told him to be a man and thrown him into the pool without regard.

Lance turned to face you, insecurity swirling in the blue of his eyes that matched the water below. The corner of your lips pulled into a little smile that matched the tilt of your head, the pleading look in your eyes reminded him that he could tell you anything and so he did.

“Trust me, I won’t let you drown,” you said, plopping back into the water and reaching your hand out for him to follow.

With hesitance Lance slowly slipped back into the cold water, swallowing a nervous gulp as he stared at you. Dipping his shoulders below the water he prepared himself to swim but quickly lost his nerve again.

“Lance I promise. If you panic I’ll help you.”

Fear took hold of him and Lance nervously chewed his lip. “What if you can’t?”

You firmly gripped his bony shoulders, speaking with the conviction of someone twice your age, “Trust me.” You loosened your grip but kept your hands on his cool skin until he nodded, a nervous smile making its way to his boyish face. “Besides, I’m a mermaid, remember? I’m Ariel and you’re Prince Eric.”

“But Eric drowned,” he added.

“Nooo,” you sarcastically said, “He almost drowned but Ariel saved him just like I’ll save you.”

His fear was still present but the kindness in your eyes helped Lance gain a bit of confidence and he was ready. You swam beside him, looking over to make sure he didn’t stop halfway or panic. When he made it all the way across he gripped the edge of the pool with one hand, wiping the water off his face. Pulling him in for a congratulatory hug he yelped, not wanting to slip away from the edge where his fingers were turning white with his forceful hold, but despite his minor panic Lance smiled. He was able to swim across because of you.

When entering your old bedroom you were surprised to see how it changed. Your parents had converted it to a guest room and office. Your furniture was in the same spot but now childhood trinkets that previously occupied the space were boxed away in the closet, replaced by decorative items like globes and vases.

It was the boxed items you were there to sort through. Pulling them out of the closet you opened them one by one, coughing as the dust scattered in the air. You made three piles; things to take back to New York, things to donate and things to throw away.

You set aside some stuff you hadn’t taken during your initial move from home, like old photo albums and your yearbook. You tried on a couple of clothes, and spent more time than anticipated as you read old notes you and your friends had passed during class before throwing them away.

The notes reminded you of the box you had yet to encounter, the one you remembered throwing everything in as tears streaked down your cheeks. There you were, face to face again with it– the Lance box. You stood unmoving, staring it down as if you were in an old Western shootout. Your heart beating rapidly as you faced your enemy, a stupid cardboard box, and yet it had the power to hurt you more than any bullet ever could.

Your fingers itched as you contemplated the box. You could just throw it out, place the whole thing in the garbage and never look at it again. It’s not like you needed anything in there, what could you do with Lance’s old shirt? Yet part of you yearned to open it, to travel down memory lane one last time no matter the consequence.

Sitting on your bed you placed the box in front of you, tugging open the folded cardboard to reveal the contents inside. Lance’s shirt was in there, crumbled up and covering most of items. It had an old smell to it as you took it out, shaking out the wrinkles to see Bugs Bunny and Taz in street wear, a ridiculous trend that had you laughing to yourself. Tossing the shirt into the donation pile you looked down at the box again and lost your smile.

An endless pile of photos of you with Lance stared back at you. You flipped through them quickly, not wanting to linger too long on the memory of each. The rest of the box was filled with random things, old notes, movie ticket stubs and even some old McDonald’s Happy Meal toys. Your heart sank however when you looked at your old teddy bear with Lance’s first gold medal around his neck. You remember how proud he was, not to have earned first place in the competition, but to give it to you just to see the smile on your face.

Tears stung at your eyes and you felt that was your cue to stop. You threw the photos back in, not bothering to move the toys to the donation pile, you wanted this box closed and thrown out. You hugged the bear, feeling the cold medal press against your skin as you silently said goodbye. A pang of guilt rang through you for placing the bear in the box with the rest of the memories to be thrown away. The bear’s dark plastic eyes stared back at you, silently screaming its innocence. You knew it had done nothing wrong and yet you couldn’t separate a silly teddy bear from the memories of Lance. A tear slipped out, running down your cheek as you sealed up the box and brought it outside.

Your mother recognized the box you carried and questioned if you wanted to throw it out. You scoffed at her. Really? She knew what happened and she has the audacity to question if you want to keep these memories? You grabbed large garbage bags to take back into your room for the donation pile, insisting you did not want or need anything in the Lance box.

After finishing your own items you helped your parents pack away the last of their things before you said a final goodbye to the place you grew up in. Your dad was ready to drive you to the airport, taking your suitcase to the car as you and your mother finished saying goodbye. She glanced over towards the large pile of garbage, her lips pressing together into a tight line as she eyed the box you had thrown out.

“Dorothy still lives there you know,” your mother said.

Your shoulders slumped down at her words, exhaling a heavy sigh. You were headed back to New York and with your parents moving you would never be back in Spring Hill again. If there was any time to say hello to Dorothy Tucker it was now.

“I can’t see her mom,” you said, struggling to keep your voice from faltering. It broke your heart to say it; Dorothy was like a second mother to you but after Lance that was all over.

Your mom wrapped her arms around you, rubbing your back comfortingly before you got into the car with your dad, saying goodbye to Spring Hill forever.

Your apartment was upside-down as you packed for your trip. Two weeks. You’re scheduled– no, being forced into spending two weeks with Lance Tucker. Two days would have been enough for the story as you insisted to Sue, though two minutes would be too much for your liking.

With ear buds in you dialed your parents, slipping your phone into the pocket of your hoodie as you roamed about the apartment gathering things together to pack.

“Hey mom. How’ve you been?” you said, waiting for her response. “Yeah I’m good. I’m actually coming to Florida… Yeah an assignment,” you answered her, stopping in your tracks as she asked who you would be interviewing.

“I can’t say yet,” you lied, a trait you’ve been doing a lot lately.

You didn’t want her to rehash the past. Your mom had been the biggest supporter of you and Lance and though she was there to comfort you at your lowest point she also encouraged you to talk to him. She knew you were hurt but she didn’t think you should lose each other over what happened. Lance was immature but so were you, making a snap decision to end everything instead of talking through things. Your mother saw the big picture and she always thought you would end up with Lance, watching you grow up together, seeing your friendship blossom into romance, she was just as hurt when it ended.

“Maybe we can get together on my birthday,” you suggested as it would occur during your trip. You were hoping to get away from Lance for a bit to see your parents, anticipating yourself becoming upset by having to see him.

“Oh honey, if Dad and I knew you were coming down we would have switched our cruise,” she fretted.

“It’s alright, this was last minute,” you sighed, trying to hide the disappointment in your voice, “I forgot about the cruise, where are you headed?”

You finished packing as your mom excitedly discussed her upcoming trip, pulling your suitcase next to the front door and staring at it with disdain. You travelled quite often for this job spending more time out of the office than in it, looking forward to every trip up until now.

Landing in Tampa you felt the heat the moment you stepped off the plane. The sun was stronger than you remembered, especially for the morning. You made your way to the transportation floor, having previously arranged a car service to pick you up for the drive to Spring Hill.

You felt overdressed as you walked through the terminal, seeing groups of people in casual clothing, shorts and flip flops. You would be making it to your hotel with just enough time to check in, drop your things off in your room and meet Lance for your interview so you had dressed accordingly, a beige blazer and skirt with a sleeveless rose colored blouse and heels to match.

As your driver kindly placed your suitcase in the trunk you took off the blazer, folding it neatly beside you. You pressed yourself back into the cool leather seat of the car, shutting your eyes to try and focus. You felt your stomach twisting itself into knots the closer you got to your destination. This was really happening and you dreaded the thought.

After arriving at your hotel you had a few more minutes to spare than expected so you quickly brushed your teeth, reapplied your lipstick and made sure you smelled good, not for his sake you told yourself. Grabbing your bag and laptop, you looked over yourself once more in the mirror, smoothing out your skirt and blazer. You can do this.

Lance had suggested meeting at a restaurant for the interview but you insisted meeting him at your hotel. Not that you were really keen on the idea of him knowing exactly where you were staying but you hoped things might progress faster if you just got right to business, not wanting to make any nostalgic detours if you ventured anywhere else with him. You were also hoping that the buffet area of this lovely Holiday Inn might make him a little uncomfortable, and thus concluding your time together at a much faster rate.

A wicked grin spread across your face as you entered the area. A deep red carpet with a muted gold design spread across the floor with an array of cheap wood tables complimented by green vinyl cushioned chairs surrounded the area. Generic artwork of flowers in vases hung around the room.

You marveled at how the hotel looks lost in an undetermined time, not quite the ‘90s and yet not quite modern either. It was the perfect setting to make Lance Tucker itching to get this over with, as you’d be subjecting the pompous “God of Gymnastics” to the meager value hotel graciously provided by your job.  

Only one table is occupied, by a family of four whose exhausted parents look like they have been drained of their energy and can no longer attempt to calm their rambunctious children. Perfect! You leave a table in between yourself and them, not wanting to be too obvious with your plan. If Lance killed the interview completely maybe there was a shot you could recoup the interview with Neymar. You grabbed two bottles of water, specifically Zephyrhills, Florida’s “unique” tasting water, setting them down on the table, though you wished you could replace yours with Vodka to get through this.

Be short, be curt. Stick to the facts. This is business. Just business, you reminded yourself as you waited for his impending arrival.

Lance had an agenda as well as he had felt the bitter coldness of your words during your correspondence to set up this interview; you had clearly not forgotten the past. Lance hated thinking about that. He threw himself into being the best, gaining the spotlight, seeking the attention of others when deep down he only wanted yours. He spent plenty of nights alone with his thoughts, regretting what he did, what he didn’t do and what he should have done. But that was the past.

His future was uncertain in many ways and he had become too wrapped up with something that weighed heavily on his mind to worry about your hatred of him. So he decided to put on a show, be Lance “The Fucker” Tucker as he was previously regarded. If you continued to hate him that would make this easier, you would write your article on him and he would get the attention he needs for his gymnastics center.

His plan was easier said than done because the moment he caught a glimpse of you sitting at the table, standing out like a diamond amongst dull rocks, he almost broke down. He wanted to run to you, throw himself at your feet and let apologies pour out from his mouth as fast as the tears that threatened to fall.

He moved back, hiding behind a wall as he regained his composure. Remember Lance, remember the plan. He began to sweat, unzipping his blue track jacket to reveal a crisp white t-shirt. He dragged his hand down his face wiping harshly at his skin. Remember. He erased his frown with a cocky smile, putting on his sunglasses, unnecessary for the fluorescent indoor lighting but it helped him hide the truth he might not be able to hide. With his shoulders up and his back stiffened he took a few deep breaths before walking towards you.

Lance strides in confidently, swaying towards the table as his voice catches your attention, “Well, well, well, look who’s back in town.”

Suppressing an eye roll (and a profanity) you bite your tongue, scrunching your nose at the overpowering amount of cologne he wore. Forcing a tight smile you remain seated but gestured for him to join you at the table.

“Thank you for meeting me Mr. Tucker, I–”

“Cut the bullshit Y/N. Let’s get down to why you’re really here,” he smirked.

PART 4

[aquilamage]

guess! who! wrote! fic!

So this is a random snippet of a ‘scene’ I had floating around in my head and really liked, so wrote it out. It’s an au in a scenario where some events congruent to canon happened, but I haven’t thought out every little detail. Basically they’re all late teens and grew up in the same area.

will end up being posted on my actual fic sites when I give it another lookthrough and a title, but I’m pretty happy with this as is so:

“So, are you finally going to tell me what it is we’re doing on the side of the road in the middle of the woods, at dusk?”

           Kay’s hair whirled around her as she turned, the brightness of her grin barely visible as a flash of a reflection of the fading light. “We’re enacting a sacred tradition, and since we’re friends now, it only seemed fair to invite you along.”

           “And I am all for bonding, but could it not be a bit less…this?” Klavier spread his arms out to encompass the expanse of trees, the mud they were definitely already tracking around, the background of insect noises which had only just begun in full force.

           “I told you to wear sturdy shoes.” She shrugged, stomping one of her heavy boots on the edge of the asphalt in emphasis.

           He had, or at least an older pair of sneakers that he had decided we alright potentially being ruined when they had told him to be ready for an “excursion”. But that wasn’t really the point. The point was that whatever this was supposed to be, it seemed to him that it could at least have happened under slightly less suspicious circumstances. A small grin, and then, “you aren’t planning on hazing me, are you?”

           Kay gasped, a hand clutching the fabric of her shirt, although her eyes held the same warmth as before. “Of course not. Right?” Gaze shooting to a spot behind him, she winked.

           “Yeah. Hazing would suggest that our friendship is congru- contingent on you doing this. Which it isn’t.” Shoving his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, Sebastian kicked at some loose stones. “You can leave if you want. We just thought you might enjoy being a part of it.” Shaking his head to move his bangs out of his face, he added, “It’s getting into trouble, but we’re not breaking any rules or anything.”

           “Yeah,” Kay waved it off, verbally and physically as she flapped a hand through the air. “Nothing like where there’d be real consequences. Honestly, this has to be one of the least messy kinds of trouble I ever get into.” She flashed another grin before jumping from where she stood, bounding over the ditch that separated the road from the trees. Her landing was signaled by only the barest rustle of leaves, despite the mid-autumn carpet of dry ones everywhere. “Probably why my dads let me keep doing it even with the complaints.”

           “Now that hardly makes you sound reassuring, Fraulein.”

           She shrugged. “It’s only because we’re annoying people who are irritated by us merely existing. Trust me, they kind of deserve it.”

           “Very well.” Casting about for a safe spot to cross, he noticed that he was now the only one on that side. At the frown he made, the other two burst into laughter.

           “It’s not actually that far. Or so deep you can’t walk through it. Someone’s just a show-off.”

           Kay stuck her tongue out at him.

           When Sebastian did an exaggerated version of her pose, Klavier mentally shook his head and ignored them, at least for long enough to pick his way across the gap with the minimum amount of getting mud or grass on his pants as possible. At that point, he was greeted with the sight of his friends trading increasingly obnoxious faces. He looked between the two of them. Seeing this type of childishly familiar interaction still continued to confound him; he had known Sebastian, albeit not that well until recently, for several years, so he knew that Kay had only met him a little under a year ago. And even with that, he still had to occasionally remind himself that they weren’t actually fraternal siblings.

He stood there watching them for a bit. But quickly realizing that they weren’t responding to his mere presence, he stepped between them, breaking the line of sight. “So, where to now?” He gave one of his dazzling smiles.

           Kay was the first to recover. “This way.” She gave a sweep of the arm, bowing deeply.

           There followed a good ten minutes of tromping through the woods until Sebastian called them to a halt, switching off the flashlights they had brought. Ahead, the trees quickly thinned out into a clearing.

           Poking his head forward in the space between the other two, Klavier stared out into the darkness. As his eyes adjusted, he could make out a sizeable expanse of land that gave way to the back side of a massive house. Other than a few windows, the main source of illumination came from a light attached to the roof that was pointed mostly towards the far-left side. While it almost cast more shadows than anything else, it seemed to show that the main portion of the back yard was covered in a network of gardens and some combination of benches and or statues.

           “Is that a waterfall?” Klavier pointed at the edge of the pool of light, where a sizeable pond sat, the surface disturbed by a cascade of water coming from a hill to one shore.

           Kay snorted. “I know, right? You’re not even allowed to swim in there. It’s reserved for ‘spiritual cleansing’ and ‘meditation training’ and junk like that.” She made finger quotes as she spoke, rolling her eyes.

           “The head of household is super stuffy, if you’d believe it.”

           “Never would have guessed,” he drawled as he scanned the area for anything he might have missed. “And we are here for what, exactly?”

           At this, Kay brightened even more, were it possible. “We,” she placed her hands on her hips, legs firmly planted, “are on a mission.” Her voice dropped lower than it usually was. “A rescue mission. Within the walls of this manor lives the grandest princess in all the land, condemned to waste her life away, alone, by those who have cruelly imprisoned her. But!” Stepping sideways and dramatically throwing out an arm to point in the direction of the house, she gave a smirk. “No longer! For the Great Thief has come to steal this lovely maiden away, flying off without a trace into the dark sky of the evening!”

           “…We’re sneaking her girlfriend out of the house to visit for the weekend,” Sebastian supplied, barely concealing a grin at Klavier’s bemusement.

           Kay wilted. “Seb, no.” She crossed her arms, settling her weight more on her back leg as she regarded him. “The Great Thief has recruited a pair of bards to assist her on this most perilous mission, to share in the glory and sing in her accolades, and this is the thanks they give her? Such betrayal.” Clutching at her heart with both hands, she fell to her knees in a mock expression of agony.

           Now standing over her as she literally sprawled out on the ground, Klavier spared Kay a glance longer before he turned to Sebastian. He raised an eyebrow. “And you don’t enjoy this? It seems like fun enough.”

           He shrugged, staring off into the distance. “Oh, I do. I just don’t need a fantasy version to make it interesting” The biggest mischievous grin Klavier had seen bloomed on his face. “Even though her mother is completely fine with her being with us, it’s just because her aunt’s technically in charge when she’s gone and doesn’t like us. I mean, she almost never cares about what Maya does otherwise; she gets so upset about this specifically though, it’s great.”

           Klavier didn’t notice that he had been staring for a moment, until Kay, who had sprung back up, clapped him on the back and motioned for them to follow her. He was glad to have the guidance, since even in the light there was, they had to keep their gaze down to avoid stepping off the stone pathways and tripping over something or another. Finally, they stopped behind a larger bush situated just next to the house itself.

Kay pointed at a second-floor window just to the side of where they stood. “That’s our target. See the bench over there? We drag that over and you guys give me a boost from there. I climb in the window, retrieve the lady, and off we go. Ready?”

Despite its heavy appearance, the bench moved with relatively little fuss by the three of them, although they did have to take care not to scrape it against any of the stepping stones embedded in the grass. Once it was positioned below the window, Kay directed the boys to step up before climbing up in the middle.

“So,” she said, seemingly unfazed by being practically squashed between the two of them, “if you can just get me up high enough to reach that ledge thingy, I’ll fly up the rest of the way! Stay out of sight until I get back, and we’ll be out in no time.”

It took a bit of maneuvering and a last-second aversion of an accident, but finally Kay was pushing off of them. Regaining his balance after the sudden loss of weight on him, Klavier looked up to see that she was true to her word, climbing the bumpy surface with only slightly more apparent difficulty than most people would a ladder.

“A woman of many talents, ja?”

Sebastian shook his head, smiling. “Something like that. Here, help me move this back.” As they picked up the bench, he added, “She practices rock climbing a lot. And on other buildings. She climbed through my window in the middle of the night a lot after she found out I was having trouble sleeping. Mr. Edgeworth actually gave her a house key to try to get her to stop, but she still does it some of the time.”

As they returned to their initial spot by the side of the house, Klavier gave him a soft smile. “Good.” When he received a confused tilt of the head and an otherwise mostly blank expression, he added, “That she wants to help you. I-“ A hand went up to run through his hair. He suddenly wished he’d brought his sunglasses after all (which he hadn’t because it was dark out when they left and that would just be ridiculous, even for him).

“I feel bad about not being as much a friend as I should have been, in the past, and…” A sigh. “At least now you have other people too, ja?”

“I guess.” He raised his shoulders as he spoke, accompanied by a shake of the head that it seemed unclear whether he was aware of. “But there’s nothing for you to apologize for. I mean, I was, well…you know. I wouldn’t blame you guys if you never wanted anything to do with me.”

Klavier paused his instinctual motion to comfort halfway there. “May I?” he ventured. When he received a nod, he gently placed a hand over one of Sebastian’s. “Those were quite different circumstances. And nothing changes the fact that you deserve to have good people in your life.” In a lighter tone, he added, “Besides, would we be here doing this now if we didn’t want to be your friends?”

A sniffle. “I guess not, huh?” Sebastian ducked his head, but the tension in his body had lessened significantly.

Satisfied, he smiled to himself and opened his mouth to add something else, but was interrupted by a shriek.

---

           Kay pulled herself up the final few inches to be level with the window. A quick pattern of taps against the glass, and it slid open almost instantly. Climbing inside, she sat against the windowsill. “Well, I appreciate the assistance. But,” she struck a pose, staring down the standing girl in the middle of the room, “I do hope you realize you just let in a thief.”

           “You’re lost then. The exhibit area’s downstairs.”

           She flipped her scarf over her shoulder. “Oh, but I am here to steal something far more valuable than that. I am here for...your heart!”

           At this, Maya’s serious expression broke. “And that’s where you’re wrong again.” Arms crossed over her chest, she grinned. “You can’t steal what’s freely given.”

           Kay started. Stumbling forward as she tripped over her own legs, she finally made her way over the other, flushed and stuttering.

           Maya giggled. “You’re adorable,” she said, stepping up on her toes to press a kiss to Kay’s cheek.

           “Yeah, well, so are you,” she mumbled under her breath. Then, after a minute of looking around to compose herself, she added, much more audibly, “Where’s Pearly?”

           “Not coming this time. Said she had too much to work on, and Athena’s…” She trailed off as she struggled not to burst into laughter as Kay had immediately started to search for the girl, first by opening the wardrobe, and then by crawling under the bed.

           Kay dragged herself out, beaming as she stood back up and made her way over to her girlfriend. She wrapped her arms around her, tilting her chin so that her head rested on top of Maya’s. A content sigh as she melted into the embrace.

           They both probably would have stayed there for hours, quiet revelry in each other’s warmth and the way they could rest against each other so comfortably, all that time spent figuring out the exact way to hold each other so they fitted together perfectly paying off more than they could have imagined. Kay had just reached a hand up to run fingers through Maya’s hair, though, when she caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye.

           She let out a squeak, turning sharply to face what turned out to be the door, open enough of a crack to show the form of a woman frozen halfway inside.

           “Hi…sis…” Maya’s voice came out muffled. With a little effort, she extricated herself from her still-shocked girlfriend’s grasp enough so that her face wasn’t pressed into her. “What are you…”

           Mia lifted an arm to show what she had been carrying. “You left your jacket downstairs, and it would hardly be responsible of me to let you go out tonight without one.” Pushing the door shut with only the softest of clicks, she made her way over to the two of them. “I know you’re quite attached, but if I may borrow my sister for a moment.”

           Kay stared at her before realizing that she still had her arms firmly around Maya’s waist. “Right!” She released her and took a good couple of steps back, to give them space.

           Holding up the jacket, Mia nodded her head. As Maya lifted her arms, she went about the motions of sliding the jacket on over her pajamas, a warm smile appearing in her eyes. She tugged down on the edges before carefully zipping it up.

           “Sis, I’m plenty old enough to do this by myself,” she groaned, staring off at a spot on the wall.

           Giving the zipper a final tug, she chuckled. Putting a hand each on the sides of Maya’s face, she held her still long enough to kiss her forehead. “Exactly. You’re growing up so fast. It’s like yesterday you were a baby and now I’m here embarrassing you in front of your girlfriend.”

           Maya’s only response was to stick her tongue out and yank the hood of her jacket up over the top of her face.

           As if remembering her presence, she took that opportunity to levy a glance in Kay’s direction. “And I can be confident that she will take care of my baby sister, correct?”

Mia was only an inch or two taller than her sister, but her stare still made Kay feel as though she was the one having to look up to make eye contact. Her mouth seemed to have stopped working, so she settled for vigorously nodding instead.

“Good.” She fluffed up Maya’s hair with one hand. “I can handle Aunt Morgan as long as you’re back by-“

“MOTHER!”

“Aw shit,” Kay breathed, lunging for the bag that sat by the edge of the bed. “Time to go.” Sticking her head out the window, she cringed as she noticed a figure in white dashing away from the area under the window.

“Busted?” The whisper came from behind her as Maya attempted to get a view as well.

“Dahlia.”

She slapped her hands on the windowsill. “Ugh.” Wriggling her way so she was also partially out the window, she cupped her hands around her mouth. “Time to go, boys!” She tried to wave at the two as they appeared from behind a bush, but found that the spot was just a little to tight to let her actually move from how she was.

A sigh from inside the room. “You’re going to get stuck if you keep that up, and I’m not going to be able to delay them that long.” With a gentle but firm grip, Mia tugged the two of them out from the frame. “Go on,” she waved at Kay.

She gave a single nod. The bag was unceremoniously dropped out the window seconds before she began climbing out of it herself.

Mia gave her sister one last hug before making her way to the other side of the door. “Have fun, be good. Chair under the handle, I can stall easier that way.” A smile, and then she was gone.

Wasting no time in doing so, Maya dashed back to the window, under which the other three were standing. She managed to maneuver her way out and hanging off the ledge with only a little trouble, and at Kay’s signal, let herself drop down.

The landing wasn’t as comfortable as it could have been, finding herself in a tangle of limbs, mostly on Sebastian with Kay still half-hanging on to where she’d caught her legs, but nothing broken, nothing bruised. She grinned at the unfamiliar blonde half-crouched to one side of them. “Hi!”

           He simply frowned, looking over at something behind them. “Nice to meet you, Fraulein, but perhaps later? It seems we have some attention.”

There were in fact a lot of lights on in the house now, and shouts could be heard from inside.

           Kay took Maya’s hand and pulled her up, starting at a run as soon as she was on her feet. Both of them be laughing as they went, picking their way back through the maze of landscaping.

Behind them, Klavier hesitated as he scanned the grounds. The girls had retreated enough in the moments longer it had taken him to get to his feet that he couldn’t quite follow their movements, and there were so many winding paths of garden, even with the lights from inside he-

           His problem was easily solved as Sebastian skidded to a halt close enough to almost knock into him. “May I?” He held out his hand.

Klavier began to hesitantly raise his own to take it when there was a much louder exclamation. A woman appeared from the side of the house, holding up a flashlight and shouting Maya’s name, among other things that his mind wasn’t bothering to process right now, apparently.

At this point, Sebastian grabbed onto his arm and began absolutely booking it towards the trees. Practiced motions wound through the obstacles with ease even in the dark, accompanied by a pace that had them out on open grass in minutes.

It was hardly fair, Klavier thought, that even though he was barely shorter he was still being pulled along behind Sebastian a little, adrenaline being the main factor that had him keeping pace. Well, that and the little breathless laughs that he could occasionally hear over the rustle of leaves and the girls’ laughs and whoops ahead of them.

They skidded to a halt just inside the tree line. Klavier had just slid his arm out of Sebastian’s grip in time to dodge away from Kay barreling towards him.

She let out an “I’m gonna hug you ok,” so fast the words mushed together. A second’s pause right in front of him with her arms held out. When he nodded, she practically flung herself at him, the force of it lifting him off his feet. Kay went with it though, using the motion to spin Sebastian around. “That was awesome!”

“Yeah!” Maya’s volume was a little too high for comfort considering she was almost right next to Klavier, who was still trying to recover. She gave him as good a look-over as she could in the near-complete darkness. “You want burgers? I could go for a burger right now wow I am out of it right now. I’m Maya, by the way.” She held out a hand for a high-five.

“Klavier.”

Her flat hand managed to shift to a firm grip as she shook his hand when he moved to high-five her. “Nice.” Letting go, she circled behind the other two to retrieve her bag from where it had been dropped.

“Well then,” Kay, who had finally put Sebastian down, slung her arm over Klavier’s shoulder. “You have fun?”

He looked at her, grinning wildly and sweaty to the touch. Then over to Maya, dirt streaked across her face and hands (he faintly recalled seeing her stumble before). And Sebastian, looking ruffled but more importantly with another of those genuine smiles which Klavier was pretty sure he’d seen more of during this evening than ever before. They were debating about going out versus heading back to Kay’s, but exhaustion setting in kept him from really paying it much mind. He took a breath, his heartbeat only just settling down from something he could actively feel and the fall chill starting to register again.

“Ja,” He turned back to Kay, a mirror of her smile blooming on his own face. “I did.”

[niallismymuse]

Chapter 7

Everything was terrible, and it was all Niall’s fault. And partially hers. But mostly Niall’s.

It was Sadie’s first day working at The Holy Bagel, something she had decided to do because tuition was expensive, and she felt bad that her parents were covering it completely. Also, she ate a lot of bagels here anyway, so now she could eat them for free and cut down on her expenses a bit.

She had discussed a monthly payment system with her parents based off of the hourly pay she earned at The Holy Bagel (which wasn’t a lot, but it was something) that also left her with some spending money.

The doorbell chimed, and Sadie watched warily as a young man walked in. She pasted a quick grin on her lips, hoping it didn’t look more like a grimace. “Welcome to The Holy Bagel, what can I get for you today?” she asked as pleasantly as she possibly could, considering she had asked this question at leastseventy two times today, and watched as his lips pulled up into a wide grin. Oh no. She fought to keep her lips pulled up, felt them twitch.

“I would like a chocolate chip bagel with Nutella to go, please,” he answered, and Sadie rang him up before quickly washing her hands and pulling on a pair of plastic gloves. She toasted the chocolate chip bagel lightly as per the customer’s request, then coated it in Nutella. After doing so, she wrapped it in paper and set it in a paper bag, then handed it to him.

Sean, watching from the back of the building, nodded approvingly. He was ‘training’ her, by showing her how to do things and then making her do all of them by herself. There was a sticker on her shirt that read ‘New’ so hopefully if she fucked up, the customers wouldn’t be angry with her. Sadie wasn’t entirely sure if this training method was legal, but no one had said anything so far.

The customer immediately opened up the bag and grabbed his bagel, before taking a massive bite. “Mmmm,” he murmured, holding out the sound for way longer than socially acceptable. She almost cringed. “Sadie, you are the best bagel maker ever! Here is a nice tip,” he added mechanically and placed a few dollar bills in the tip jar.

Sadie stared at him, unimpressed. “How long is Niall going to keep this up?”

The guy grinned and set the bagel back in the bag, rubbing all of the Nutella off by doing so. “He just wants you to have a nice first day of work.”

“Which is why he keeps sending his customers over,” she sighed and shook her head. This was the fourth one; Niall was working a shift at The Big O currently, which meant he couldn’t cheer her on personally. So, he kept sending his customers over to do it for him. “How is he convincing you guys to tip? And he’s aware that we split the tips at the end of the shift, right?”

“Well, he’s actually giving us each a couple bucks to bring here, so it’s his own money. So, actually, there’s probably been more people sent over here with money and they just pocketed it and went on with their day. It’s not the smartest idea.” He shrugged and headed towards the door, leaving without saying another word.

Sadie blew out a breath and shook her head. It was sweet of Niall. Kind of. She was going to have to give him some of her tips back tonight because he was totally wasting some money (and he definitely lost some by trusting the wrong person), but it was sweet that he was trying to make her first day of work nice.

In fact, Niall had been nothing but sweet for the past few weeks. Ever since they came back to uni from her parent’s house, he had been texting her cute good morning texts, sending ridiculous selfies, and spending time with her whenever it was possible. Not terribly different from beforewinter break, but there was more to it now. There was more of him, though they no longer shared classes.

Which was terrible. Sadie never thought she would ever miss having Niall seated next to her, tapping his pen in some random annoying rhythm, whispering to her when the professor was talking. But she did. Class was emptier without him. Her psych 2 class, which Niall would have enjoyed (specificallybecause the professor was slightly awful at his job and warranted mocking), felt lonely.

Niall made up for it in other ways. He often walked her to her classes, pausing to peck her lips and watch her head inside before sauntering off towards his own class. He was wonderful, really.

They hadn’t done anything besides kissing since Christmas Eve. Sadie thought about that a lot, and it was in her mind now because work was boring her. It was not prime bagel time, i.e. morning. Instead, it was four in the afternoon; it gave her far too much time to think.

Niall hadn’t instigated anything since then, which wasn’t upsetting, but Sadie didn’t know how to start anything herself.

So, yes, everything was terrible because work and not enough Niall, and it was mostly his fault. Somehow. She didn’t know how to move forward physically in their relationship and felt like if she tried to escalate things even slightly, it would come off wrong. Sadie wasn’t even genuinely sure if she wanted to take their relationship to another level – just saying the word ‘relationship’ too many times in her thoughts made her cringe. Too adult.

Her feet were aching too, which wasn’t Niall’s fault, but she was feeling rather grumpy towards him because of the made-up issues she’d decided they had in her head and decided to blame him for that too.

Her shift ended a few hours later, and Sadie decided, for the first time in her life, that she didn’t want to eat any bagels. She’d officially had enough bagels today, which certainly meant the end of the world was coming. Sadie Fraiser neverhad enough bagels.

Until she had to make and serve over two dozen different types of them.

After clocking out at seven, Sadie threw her heavy winter coat on and sped out towards her dorm. It was snowing. Again. She couldn’t wait until it warmed up enough for the snow to melt away; the cold never seemed to leave her body, curling up tight around her bones and making its home there. The only time she was truly ever warm anymore was when she was with Niall – in bed, pressed side to side, walking with his arm around her – and he wasn’t available right then. He wouldn’t get off until around eight or so, because though The Big O closed at five, he stuck around to help make the dough for the next day. Staying late meant he didn’t have to go in at the ungodly time of four in the morning to help bake. It was a very logical thing to do, but Sadie was still feeling bitter towards him – pointlessly – so she cursed him silently as she shivered, walking home alone.

Sadie wound up walking by the pool house, which was still brightly lit despite the fact that, as she could see when she walked by the front doors, it was empty.

A strong wave of longing hit her then. She hadn’t gone swimming in a long time, hadn’t felt the weightlessness of her body, the soothing warmth of the water. She hadn’t neededto. Niall had come into her life and she had begun to see some worth in herself; of course, that sense of ‘worth’ came and went in her mind, but she hadn’t found swimming to be as vital to her mental health as it once had been.

Possibly because she exercised in her dorm room now and because the pure peace of the swimming pool didn’t call to Sadie as much. But, right then, it did. Her feet were aching, and so was her back, and even though it was freezingout, wouldn’t it be nice to sink into a nice warm pool?

She practically scampered back to her dorm, taking enough care to avoid slipping on the slick sidewalk. Once inside, Sadie quickly set her phone down and packed a bag containing only her swimsuit and a fluffy towel. Still in her ‘outdoors’ clothes, she made a quick 180 and headed back out. Excitement had her bouncing on her feet even as a gust of bitter wind threatened to freeze her skin.

After two minutes of careful speed walking, Sadie made it inside the pool house. It still smelled entirely like chlorine and bleach, and the bleachers were still miraculously empty. After all, what insane human being would want to go swimming in the dead of winter?

It was warmer inside the pool house, but not warm enough to avoid her skin pebbling as she changed. Sadie went from her warm, thick coat to a thin, single layer of polyester. Her one piece was purple, and fit tightly against her, but she didn’t mind it for once. It wasn’t an uncomfortable sort of tightness – rather, it was an ‘I fit perfectly’ tightness, molding to her body.

As she padded back out to the pool, feet slapping on the cold tile, Sadie pulled her hair up into a knot on the top of her head, hoping to keep it out of the chlorine as best she could. She knew herself, though, and knew she would wind up floating on her back before her swim was up.

Something was missing, but Sadie didn’t realize it until she stepped in the water and looked down at her reflection. It was disorientating, seeing herself as the ripples of her step distorted her image. It was enough, though.

She wasn’t wearing a t-shirt.

Sadie had never gone swimming in her life without wearing a huge t-shirt, anything large enough to make her as shapeless as possible. Because her body had been something she hated and despised, something she wanted to hide from the world but mostly from herself.

She stared down at her reflection, long enough that the ripples from her initial step into the pool vanished. After taking a deep breath, Sadie took another step down, and then another and another, until she was up to her waist. Then, closing her eyes, she pushed off the steps and glided through the water. No t-shirt.

It made very little difference, except she could cut cleaner through the water, and there was no secondary weight dragging her down. Sadie swam, diving under the water before pushing back up. She let her hair get wet. She floated. And, most importantly, she breathed.

Not having a t-shirt on made very little difference, true, but the most important difference was that, as she glided through the chlorine-filled water, eyes squeezed tight against the chemicals, she was free.

Minutes or hours later, Niall was waiting outside her dorm room when she arrived, looking more than a little ticked off. Sadie blinked in shock, slowing at the sight of him. Normally she was thrilled to see him, and she would have been (having forgotten her own odd anger towards him earlier) except for the frown he was giving her, and the arms crossed over his chest.

“Hey,” Sadie greeted a little breathlessly, and grabbed her key to unlock her room. Niall had a key, but he only used it when there were emergencies…or when Sadie couldn’t be bothered to leave her bed and let him in. The door swung open and she strolled gratefully inside, relishing in the warmth of her room. It was warmer, at least, than the hallway.

Sadie turned on the space heater she had plugged in by her desk and took her jacket off, hanging it up in her closet before sticking her toes firmly in front of the heater. Her hair was wet. She was cold. She smelled distinctly like chlorine. And Niall still hadn’t said a word.

She turned to see he was still by the now closed door, looking absolutely pissed now. His lips were pressed firmly together in a straight line, which looked plain odd on his face. Those lips were made for smiling and happiness, not frowning and anger.

It hit her then. Niall was angrywith her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked softly, afraid to make her voice louder than a whisper.

“You didn’t answer any of my messages.”

Sadie frowned then and looked to her bed to see her phone plugged in there. She must have left it there before leaving for the pool. “I’m sorry…I forgot it here.” Niall huffed and let his arms drop, though his eyes hit the floor and didn’t look back up. Her own irritation swam to the surface. “What, you’re not even going to ask how my first day of my job was?” Before Niall could answer, she snatched her purse from her dresser and pulled out her wallet, taking out the tips she had earned earlier that day. ‘Earned’ was definitely not the right word for it, but it would do.

She split them in half and forcibly shoved one half at Niall.

He gazed down at the crumpled bills in her hand, then looked at her. His eyes met hers, and she noticed a shimmering she didn’t expect to see. “When you didn’t answer…I don’t know, I thought that maybe…you had gotten bad again.”

There was a lot implied in those words. Sadie had gotten bad before, when he had kissed that other girl at that party. Not as bad as she had gotten in the past, but enough. And Niall had been afraid…of what, Sadie wasn’t sure. That he made her get that way? That she would hurt herself?

“No…I just forgot my phone.” Sadie whispered, her anger draining away as quickly as it had arrived. Her arm lowered back to her side, still clenching the money that she owed him. “I…went for a swim, actually.”

A spark lit in those baby blue eyes, or maybe it was just his glasses lens reflecting weirdly in the lighting. It was hard to tell. “Sadie, it’s January.”

“I know that,” she snipped back, “but I used to go swimming all the time, at least once a week. It made me feel better. More…at peace. Whole.”

Niall swallowed and pushed his glasses further up his nose. It was times like this when she really wanted to force him to some orthopedic center and make them tighten his glasses. “Did you go swimming because you needed to feel better?”

Sadie shook her head, a small smile forming on her lips. “No…I went swimming because I wanted to.”

Niall smiled too, full of pride and hope that made her heart hurt, though it faded a moment after. “We met at the swimming pool…I was trying to help my knee. Were you there to feel better then, too?”

Sadie nodded slightly. “Yes, that’s what I was doing there. And partially why I was so disturbed at you being there. You had…almost ruined my sanctuary.” What she didn’t add was that instead of ruining her sanctuary, he had become it.

Niall stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close. He ducked his head down, and she closed her eyes as his lips skimmed her forehead. “You’ve been hurting for a long time.” It was a statement, not a question, but Sadie still answered it.

“Yes.” She opened her eyes to look at him, only centimeters away. She tucked herself into him, feeling warm and safe once again. “But not so much now.”

Things settled into place as the semester trudged onward. Almost every day, Sadie woke up and attended classes, Niall usually walking her to them. After class, Sadie would work a shift at The Holy Bagel and then either head to the pool or straight back to her dorm. The former depended on the day of the week; she still tried to avoid busy times when there were other people swimming too. Even Niall let her have her alone time at the pool.

Sadie never wore a t-shirt while swimming anymore. Once, a young woman walked in with a gaggle of blonde-haired, stick-thin friends. They were laughing together, but they waved in a friendly way at Sadie. Instead of immediately shying away, filled to the brim with resentment, she smiled and waved back, then continued to swim her laps until she wanted to go home.

She had changed. Sadie was no longer sure of what the catalyst was with her self-image transformation – Niall or herself, or a combination of both – but it wasn’t a complete metamorphosis.  The day after having her swim interrupted, Sadie found herself crying in the bathroom of the college of arts and sciences building. A fellow classmate had sat next to her, and she was straight up gorgeous– full, thick brunette hair and curves for days, but not fat like she was.

Looking in the mirror after that class session was over, Sadie had felt like absolute garbage. So, she cried, and she called Niall, who immediately came and got her. He didn’t ask what had set her off, or why it was now and not some other time. He just held her, and when she could breathe, he led her back to her dorm room and insisted she call off work.

Everything was coming together with Niall, too. Every time Sadie looked at him, her stomach warmed and fluttered, and life felt right. Life felt good, like it was worth more than anything, like it was something precious.

“That’s because you’re falling in love with him,” Nellie insisted smugly every instance Sadie brought up, smirking like she knew exactly what was going on and had been waiting for it to come to fruition.

Sadie always shied away from that topic, because.

Because things were never set in stone.

Because Niall could still fall for someone else.

Because it felt like too strong of a label when everything was so sweet and genuine, yet maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t.

Because there was a strong chance still that everything could fall apart, and Sadie couldn’t imagine life without Niall anymore. It would be like living your whole life in the sun, only for it to shatter and disappear, leaving you alone and blind in the darkness.

So even though the stirrings she was feeling were probably the l-word, she wasn’t ready to admit it. Hell, she hadn’t even committed to a major yet, and she’d been enjoying psychology for longer than she’d been enjoying Niall.

Niall, however, had other ideas.

It was while they were eating dinner together at the dining hall that it happened. Sadie rarely ventured into the dining hall, finding the amount of people and the clash and clang of dishes to be a bit much, but Niall had nudged her along, claiming he wanted to try something different than their usual eat-whatever-scraps-they-could-find, until she found herself sitting at a table for two. She had a plate of mac and cheese in front of her with a side of broccoli.

Truly fine dining.

The cacophony of people chatting along with the clink of cutlery, not to mention the March shower making itself heard along the metal roof, made it a little difficult to hear. Niall didn’t seem too inclined to chat though, instead eating quietly with one hand and holding Sadie’s with the other. His thumb was tracing idly on the back of her hand, and every stroke made itself known all the way down to her toes. Niall always remained on her skin even when he wasn’t touching it.

They hadn’t gone all the wayyet either, though they had certainly progressed beyond kissing. Sadie treasured those little moments, where all that mattered was herself pressed against Niall, and the feel of his lips on hers, on her skin...her lips on his skin…

Sinful. That was the only way to describe it: sinful and beautiful, a deadly mixture.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Sadie finally murmured, squeezing his hand lightly. Niall smiled back, though it wasn’t as bright as normal. Instantly, her stomach flipped over and settled uneasily into her guts.

“I am,” he agreed, because it was obvious, “just thinkin’ a little bit.”

Her heart thundered in her chest. This could go very badly. Why did she feel like it was about to go very badly? “About what?”

“About us.” Niall straightened up in his seat suddenly, and light glared against his glasses lenses. Something in Sadie’s chest snapped and broke – she wasn’t sure if it was her heart, because instead of feeling pain, she instead felt numbness wash over her limbs.

When she didn’t answer, he took it as encouragement to continue talking. “It’s just…you are incredible. I was so lucky the day I happened to walk into that pool house, because you have changed everything. So, I think it’s unfair that I haven’t told you this, when you have completely turned my world upside down…”

Oh, God,Sadie thought. He cheated.

It was strange, how her mind automatically seized on thinking whatever Niall was about to say was bad. Later, Sadie would tell herself that he had been very ambiguous and anyone in her shoes would have felt the same way. He looked pale, and his lips were pressed together, trying to prevent some smile or frown.

“Just…spit it out already, please,” Sadie gritted out quietly, because her insides were being destroyed by the time it was taking to hear him speak. They were mush already, painful, lumpy mush.

Niall took a deep breath and then let it out. His hand, which had been gripping hers very loosely until this point, gripped harder, almost hard enough to cut off her cirulation. “I’m in love with you, Sadie Fraiser.”

The dining hall froze and lost its color. A dull roaring rang in her ears, and Sadie felt her cheeks pinken. She leaned forward, as if she had misheard him. “Excuse me, what?”

Niall smiled shyly, his own cheeks tinted red. It was mottled down his throat and burning his ears brightly, too. Sadie recognized, faintly, that that only happened when he was well and truly embarrassed. “I love you.”

The dull roaring became a crashing inferno, and everything suddenly sharpened visibly. Niall was staring at her, clearly waiting for a response. The longer it took, the less pleased he looked, until he was biting his lip and withdrawing his hand from hers. “Sadie?”

She shook her head. “I…I have to go.”

Every cell in her body was screaming for her to stay, to whisper the l-word back, but those cells were overpowered by a simple instinctual response: fight or flight. Sadie chose flight, and she regretted it even as she got up from the chair, because she could see how absolutely crushed Niall was. His expression crumpled into despair, eyebrows pulling together and lower lip trembling. But then he got it together and forced on a mask called ‘being okay’ on. Indifference. That was almost worse.

Her legs begged her to sit back down, but her feet were already moving towards the door. The damage had been done.

Sadie had thought maybe her heart had broken while she had been waiting for Niall to speak. She wondered, as she dashed out into the pouring rain, if instead she had felt a tiny bit of what Niall would feel only moments later. If, somehow, she had known: one of the two of them would be devastated.

She was soaked in moments, but she didn’t care, pounding her feet on the sidewalk at a pace she had never even managed while running late to class. Go back, go back, go back, her brain whispered, but her heart took over: I can’t.

I can’t give him a broken part of me.

I can’t expect him to love me forever.

I can’t.

Sadie had no idea where she was, but she plopped down on the sidewalk and let the rain wash over her body. Everything was gray and dark and wet. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care.

Niall would never forgive her for that. She was fucked up, plain and simple. And he would know, truly know that now, because he had poured his heart out to her and she had smashed it on the floor.

Numbness set in, both emotionally and physically from the icy rain sloughing down on her. She deserved it, though.

She had never deserved Niall. Maybe this time he would realize it.

[starswrit-archive]

🎰 / sets this here omg

Send 🎰 for me to put our muses into a random list generator then post the first five as potential ships!

L and Judy

Okay, but a Zootopia AU where L is a raccoon detective, and he and Judy meet by teaming up to solve a case or something. I could kind of see it, honestly. They’re total opposites in a lot of ways, but I think those differences would be aspects of her that he would admire. On the compatibility/similarity side, they both have a die-hard work ethic, and would be able to understand that in one another. Of course, Judy would have to be willing to work with his oddities, and he’d take a while to warm up to the notion of a real relationship because he has such limited experience with them in any capacity. However, he knows never to underestimate anyone, and he’d never do so with her, and would certainly support her career endeavors ( and while he knows she can handle cases on her own, he’d be more than willing to aid her if she asked ).

Arthur and Hange

I haven’t played Red Dead Redemption 2, but I have watched a few videos/play-throughs, so forgive me if I say anything that’s not completely accurate! But I think Hange would be one of my muses who wouldn’t mind Arthur’s way of life/worldview, as she’s certainly killed and tortured in her main verse when she believed it would be of use to her/the mission to save humanity. She’s very passionate about anatomy, physiology, and science, so I could see her taking notes on the corpses of people Arthur has killed ( they’re not good people, so she doesn’t see it as invasive or disrespectful ). If I created a RDR2 verse for her, maybe she travels around with him, if he would be open to that, which leads to a deeper relationship. Hange can be quite good at bringing out the more playful side of those who aren’t as inclined to show it, and she’s skilled enough with weaponry and fighting to be able to back him up, if need be.

Shane and Hiyori

They definitely have a bit of an age gap, which could either be an aspect of their relationship, or their initial meeting could take place after Hiyori has graduated college and is around his mid-twenties. Regardless, while Hiyori does enjoy living in the city, I could actually see him moving and opening a cafe in Pelican Town. He’s so passionate about books and cafes and coffee, that once he’s “past his prime” for competitive swimming, it would be a logical next step. He loves making egg dishes, so maybe he comes to Shane or Marnie for eggs to use in his recipes for the cafe, and that’s what starts a bit of a ritual of seeing one another. Hiyori can be an asshole, but only when he feels as though he needs to defend someone he loves; he rarely ever retaliates when people are blunt with him. So, he’s always polite, and maybe a tiny bit forward eventually once he ends up with a crush on Shane, even though he wouldn’t ever actually think it would be reciprocated. Maybe it is and maybe it isn’t, and it could be a fun scenario to play out.

Kisa and Potya

I definitely feel like these two could start out as friends with benefits. Kisa is very much Potya’s type, and Potya isn’t terribly interested in romantic relationships ( at least, not until he meets someone he actually wants one with ). Maybe they meet at a club, or maybe Potya is doing some form of collaboration with a mangaka who’s under Kisa, and they meet that way. Maybe it’d be a case of the classic “we’re hooking up and we’re not supposed to start to actually fall for each other, but oh no I am and what if they don’t feel the same way” but then they’re both feeling that way story, or it’s one-sided, or they just stay friends with benefits who become really good friends and actually want to see each other happy, even if it’s with someone else. I think any of the three could be fun to explore, especially since Potya’s been on the end of a one-sided love and been utterly crushed before, so talk about ramping up the angst. There are a lot of ways a ship with them could go, though, and any of them would be interesting to discuss.

Haruka and Kyo

Cats and water don’t mix, but opposites attract? On the other hand, mackerel would be a love for both of them, so maybe they’d end up having more in common than they originally thought. Maybe Kyo ends up going to Haruka’s school ( whether it’s high school or college ) and they’re paired up for a project, or they have a more dramatic meeting where Kyo falls in the pool and Haruka pulls him out they have a Little Mermaid moment or something that eventually ends up with Kyo cooking Haruka mackerel to show his appreciation, but being embarrassed about it because he’s the epitome of a tsundere. Kyo has difficulty expressing his emotions, and Haruka is so quiet and reserved, that it would probably take a lot of time spent together to reach a point where a confession occurs, but slowburn is my drug.

if you’re interested in pursuing any of these, feel free to message me!

[theoldestofthettails]

Rick the Great Adventurer (1 and done, my dudes):

Rick and I matched on *ding ding ding* Tinder. Rick didn’t have any face photos on his Tinder, but his bio was pretty intriguing, so I said “fuck it,” and swiped right. (I wish I didn’t remove him on Tinder so I could include some of his bio here, but alas, I act impulsively on occasion – or often). Rick is ~happily~ married, and approximately 36 years old (don’t judge me). Former marine, total beef head, kind of a douchebag, and a total dominant. I was hype AF for us to meet.

             So yeah, let’s talk about this “wife” thing. He was in fact married (wedding ring and all), but his wife and him have an open marriage (her idea). And when he told me it was her idea, I was like “oh, okay, so he must be bad in bed, yadda yadda yadda.” And then he goes on to tell me how she identified as “asexual” before having their child (so clearly they were having SOME sex, just not much), and then after birth, she went batshit with the hormones, and then decided she was poly. Big jump, but no judgment, whatever.

             So Rick and his wife are happily married, but also have boyfriends and girlfriends. Interesting. They even have a list of rules that I will include below – you can skip it, I don’t care (and I’ll never know):

 1.     No secrets, no limits

2.     Home is off-limits, and friends are off-limits without prior permission

3.     Any time spent with someone else is matched with each other

4.     Any time spend with someone else is doubled with [the kid] (my phrasing)

5.     All holidays, including birthdays, will be spent with the family

6.     At no time will either of [them] contact the others partner in any way without permission/presence

7.     Either one of [them] can call it off at any time

8.     Rules may be added/modified at any time if agreed upon

9.     Under no circumstances will either of [them] vent/confide/etc. about any marital stresses to other partners; as far as anyone is concerned [their] marriage is fucking perfect and nothing can come between [them]. Marital stresses should be discussed and resolved in the home, between [them], no exceptions.

10.  Effort will be made to keep it to weekends

11.  Condoms, always.

 So, as you can see, this shit it like legit. And I was all about it. This cool older couple engaging in a perfectly functional poly-relationship. Cool as fuck, right? Well it would be cool. So let’s get into it.

 As I said, Rick didn’t have any photos on his Tinder profile (being married and all that), so first things first, he sends me a photo on Snapchat. And I’m not impressed. Maybe I'm a dick, but I’m just not into his face, which sucks because he sounds like he could be so much fun… But hey, guys tend to look hotter in person, right? So I choke down my repulsion, and talk to him anyways, because … fuck it. So we’re talking all day (note: this is Sunday, after a night of fucking TEQUILA, so I’m an absolute wreck) about his life and his wife and his outside relationships and I'm getting all sorts of excited. This man is a legit erotic masseuse in addition to a security person that gets hired to work at SWINGER EVENTS! Legit, this man lives the coolest fucking life. And I’m all excited – the things he could show me, teach me, do to me… UGH. But the day continues on and I take a 4-hour nap and wake up in drool, hair matted to my head, it’s great. This is what Sunday’s are for. And then he messages me and tells me to take a shower, put on a dress, and meet him at 10pm at X because he’s in my area for the night. OH-FUCKING-KAY Zaddy!

 So I force myself to get up, not throw up, and take a shower. I do my hair, I put on a dress and heels, and I end up looking like a high end hooker, and you know what? Fuck it. I roll with it. I leave my place at 9:45, get there at 9:55, and there he is.

 Initial observations: he hasn’t lost all of his depression weight, his eyes are actually that little in person, and his age shows. He also came from working an event, so he’s in khakis and a black polo, while I’m in a cocktail dress and 5 inch heels. I’M FINE!  

 Also, there are FEW places open this late on a Sunday that serve alcohol (yo, I’m not drinking anyways – my poor liver wanted to die/was already dead). So we end up at some rinky-dink place that has one party of like 15 people and is otherwise empty. Note, this is a low-class joint, so my little outfit made me stand out. Don’t worry, I fucking worked the crowd – sent out little flirty smiles, giggled, played the whole shy/coy yet confident thing to a T. I legit think I like blacked out the experience or something because I had no control over what I was doing lol. It’s like I was a completely different person, a confident, hot person. Whatever though, I ran with it.

 So we find a table (note, he chose the seat against the wall so I didn’t feel trapped – how sweet). We sit down, a waitress (just as hungover as I was) took our order and didn’t judge me for only ordering water and only drinking about a quarter of it (I was just proud I didn’t throw it up). And then we talked. We talked about his service, his wife, his life, his kid, his brain injury and how it’s changed his life. And we obviously talked about me; maybe we talked too much about me. How I cried on a Tinder date (lol), had my heart broken, am killing myself trying to take care of my grandparents, am living a shambly life, trying to find my ex in a new person, etc. Like all of the shit. I don’t know why I keep having these deep talks with random Tinder dudes – it’s a breeding ground for me to get hurt lol.

 But more interestingly, he’s telling me about his work, the swinger parties he attends, relationships he has outside of his marriage, the relationships his wife has, and lots of cool stuff. He told me about what a “vanilla” is at a swinger party (someone who just watches – I’m all about it). He told me never to get into a hotel swimming pool again lol. He also invited me to a Halloween sex party the weekend before Halloween up in PA (tempting). And while all of this talking is going on, I’m dreading the moment when he tries to touch me. He’s definitely sweaty. And he has bad teeth.

 So I can feel the conversation shifting to leaving this bar, and less than anything ever, I don’t want this dude to come back to my house (note: he lives a solid hour away and was in my area for work that night). So we’re heading outside, moseying over to our cars and just chatting. And that’s when things get a little weird. He’s like “what do you want to do?” and I’m just sweating lol. Like I don’t want to outright turn down this dude because I’m still trying to be a nice person (don’t worry, I’m learning that doesn’t work in this dating thing).And I’m pussyfooting around the topic of what’s next, when he’s like “okay, we’re going back to your place and I’ll bring my massage table.”

 BOY! What part of my behavior indicated that’s what I wanted?!

 So I finally, firmly tell him that I’m not comfortable with that. And he’s super receptive, and is asking me what is making me uncomfortable, etc. He’s asking me how I want him to fit in my life, what kind of role I want him to play because he can fill any role I want… And he asks if he can kiss me. I make a compromise – he can kiss me if he walks me to my car (the road was really bad and I was wearing REALLY high heels). He says of course and walks me to my car. I open my door, put the key in the ignition, and turn around – he’s a solid 3-4 feet away from me. I’m like “wtf are you doing?” and he simply wanted to leave me space so I didn’t feel cornered. Seriously just a thoughtful thing. So I take the few steps to close the gap between us, lay my hand on his stomach, and lean in. And honestly … I was expecting to be disgusted. But I wasn’t? I closed my eyes and kept kissing him. And I even had a little stomach flutter!!! But then I opened my eyes. Fuck. And I pull back and tell him to get home safely. He asks me one final time if I want him to go home with me, to which I reply “absolutely the FUCK NOT.”

 He tells me to send him something sexy when I get home, but I jump in my car without another word and I’m out of there.

 Weirdest experience ever. I’ve never been so sexually aroused with the idea of a person, without actually being sexually aroused by that person…

 Anyways, the next day he’s messaging me (I was off from work and laying in bed), and he’s sending me snap videos of him telling me to get on my knees, choke myself and snap it to him…. I’ve never had someone so strongly misread a signal before. And he just keeps fucking sending this videos telling me what to do, calling me bratty for “misbehaving.” Guys, what the actual fuck. So I just stopped replying altogether, and a couple hours later I let him know that I’m not interested in pursuing anything further. I unmatched him on Tinder, but left him as a friend on Snapchat. Who knows, maybe with the right amount of alcohol I might find him attractive? *Shruggg*

 And thus concludes my Rick chronicles (hopefully!).

[commonalex]

Venus 3000

Definitely not my day. Either it will be my phone not ringing, either the ship getting slow as fuck to the platform or even Emily as I see her (and she sees that I see her) right before I was skipping line from a mexican dude for a sandwich. And neither did I get a nod nor a sandwich. Fuck.

I don't know why I said hi, I surely wasn't at my best and she didn't look too ok with it. I could pretend to study these ugly backs of the seats in front of me or keep on looking at the Pacific from my window while she was passing to seat at the first class. Sure, I could. But I was itching to learn why and how she justs appears here and just sits along with the richie rich folk. If only this notification for email and this nervous air hostess nagging about turning off out devices didn't hold me back from asking her on the spot.

"A reminder.

Make sure to fix your attitude and send some content, some good content this time, or we'll have problems to solve. Patience only lasts that long.

Sam, Assistant Manager."

Ah, simple, straight to the point and obnoxious Sam-the-assistant-manager as always, which she thinks she rules the world now that every serious person took a week of for the summer and she's left behind. I don't quite blame her, but she was asking me to reportabout local brunch restaurants and sunscreens just for the ads, only to get me to fly to Venus because Tyler got sickand all that crap.

Venus is just a dusty volleyball from the window when we get awaken by the stuff. Dunno if that's a tradition or not, but the pilot seemed to think that it was a good idea to sing happy birthday to each passenger that had birthday during the three month flight. It really was a good idea since I barely forgot Emily's birthday. I get myself around the seatbelts and get right back to them after the air hostess gives me the side eye. I take a minute to think about this and I see that i'ts kinda tricky to just play friends with her, so I stick to my shit. I take a look at my seat personal notifications to see what I missed. My sister's cat my only casualty. Pretty good if you compare that to the others beside me crying their eyes out for their loved ones that turned out less alive than expected. I guess I got pretty lucky. For a bit.

Cause this yuppie next to me takes his chance at starting a conversation with me about his newborn grandchild and as I'm known to enjoy this type of junk I tolerate this quirky little video of his daughter giving birth feeling physically disturbed. So disturbed I look away constantly, till I catch Emily in tears going to the bathroom of the first class (which is right in front of our class). I get closer to ask her what's wrong, only to get a cold shoulder. And I don't know what fucked me up the most, her attitude or this cringy video being almost twenty minutes long and me not having enough balls to tell him to stop it.

The pilot and his amazing texan accent wish us a nice stay at the colonies, thanking us for using Venus 3000 (yeah, wow) while I try to shut my helmet until the 'click'. We get out around this orange fog with some beacons shining in rhythm from far away. The reception authorities takes each one of us by the hand like babies until we get used to the different pressure. I take off my helmet first and try to communicate with this nice lady that holds me like her nephew about the distance from the hotel. I'm tired as hell and ready to sleep to my death.

I wake up from another notification from Sam-the-assistant-manager, underlying her previous nice words and sending me the schedule that I have to follow. If I can manage my time right, I could even get a second to pee between all those events, interviews and tryouts to get some footage (since the colonies authorities, for a reason I didn't quite get, were too willing to look for photos or videos you took during your time here, something that makes me understand what really got Tyler sick). But I shouldn't complain. It's only ten days and I got through the first one.

I get down, take just three bits and flee asking the reception about the Virtual Plaza where my appointment with the summer deputy head of the souther colony waits for me. I take the train get blown away by the ride. This so goddamn blue sky with small orange scratches from the dome, those weird asymmetrical buildings, those huge statues and columns resting on a never ending grass field and this coast. Yeah, coast as like sea (well, it's a big realistic pool, but still). I'm legit shook like the other passengers inside the train.

Somewhat irritated but gentle enough to not show it that much, Stephen Wang welcomes me with his uptight gestures and slick but uncomfortable warm suit (the colonies are always quite hot and summery). He looks a bit cold and all, but I get around him easily. Asking for some pics and then some answers to standard questions that no one gets uncomfortable with (about how he got here, how he feels, what the hell are the americans trying to build in this place along with these weird security measures) except for his security beast that checks my camera for footage and carries Stephen back to his car.

I walk around Virtual Plaza and see several kids bouncing around, playing with the slightly tweaked gravity in front of their disgustingly rich parents. Next to them some plain tourists playing with their drinks (it's too early for that) and a whole group of other tourists walking to the beach. I follow them creepily (they are in their swimsuits and I'm full clothed with a camera around my neck, just so everyone can get a bit uncomfortable) to this (close to a mile wide) shore where I let water touch my naked feet. It takes time to grasp what I really touch and/or feel.

Tired as hell, I return to the hotel to eat for the noon, getting several Venus facts from the speakers (couldn't give less of a fuck about them, though). And there she is once again, Emily, standing at the bar looking absolutely gorgeous, wearing something that costs like three times my salary. I get noticed, I smile at her, she smiles back and I decide to get to her while a old and bald penguin dude takes her by her hand for a spin. Not really hungry after that. I'm walking to the elevator with her quietly closing in. I look at her by accidentand see the same bitterness in her eyes, just like then before the take off.

Sleeping is not so easy on Venus. They tried all they could to simulate earth-like conditions (like day and night scheduling etc.), but that can't stop my biological clock from going nuts. So I fill my nights by looking at old convos with Emily as I deliberately avoiding her for the rest of the day. As for the work stuff, I managed to convince Sam that the communication delays are a pain in the ass and I can't send daily reports to get away with them. Sometimes I go for long night time walks, but those irish students looking for trouble and those faux cops that caught me filming the artificial forest the other day restrict me from enjoying anything but my room's satellite tv.

Days get so dry, dull and empty, too. When I don't have to ask the exact same things to weird army guys and Elon Musk wannabees, I need to listen at tiring speeches that all end up in how advanced and cool and hip this test is not only for humanity, but every form of life back to Earth. From top notch scientists and disgustingly rich white people to stupid youtubers and Robbie Williams (not kidding), all those people came exclusively to praise this initiative of the western world that officially puts the tombstone on the soviets after nearly ninety years of competition (not that it was that hard in the first place).

It only took a couple walks for me to see what those colonies had to offer me. All of those bright white columns, weird looking hotels and disturbingly tall palm trees just seem unpolished and lazy to me. Sand's just grated rocks, the sea smells like a chemistry lab, the food is processed to death and even the temperature gets a bit weird sometimes. The colonies are nothing more than huge hotel facilities, sprawling sparsely over a small island that floats in a large swimming pool. I'm fed up hearing about the hope of the future that starts herewhen I see old, pale fucks keeping on eating foie gras and using oil. This whole project is an ad that targets only the Kylie Jenners of this world that have a daily life of eating, sleeping and swimming in cash.

Sam-the-assistant-manager sure begs for these kind of reviews, but I'm risking my head for her. I only send her a draft without a slump of criticism, because I don't want any of those faux cops fucking with me just for writing bad things for them.

Three days before my flight, Stephen Wang drags me with his nerdy hands for another tour around the colonies. Oh look, art exhibitions, dance festivals, Robbie Williams (I needed this second time to make sure it was really him), even a luxurious cruise with a boat that smells just like burnt plastic. All slapping newand moderninside their names. All getting more and more random in my eyes. Wang clearly sees my disappointment and becomes troubled. He asks me if everything's fine, I respond with yeap, why notand not one second later I just leave my breakfast inches from the stern of the boat. So many days I spent here, and I only got to succeed in making a successful thirty year old career man lose his shit and getting nauseous from a pool. A fucking swimming pool.

Two days before my flight, my article looks like it's never gonna make it, especially with Sam's moaning about me giving away my hidden footage to Wang as an act of goodwill to the poor guy. I could finish the article regardless, but my mind starts to fade away. I spend more time looking at the forest from the window of my room than typing. It's already dark when a knock on the door kills my boredom. Emily knows me well enough to put aside my difficulty at finding something to say, dragging me to the beach with this cute rudeness that only she can pull off.

-You can be really mean if you want to

What can you say to her when she's one hundred percent right? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

-It's really hard for me to deal with your presence anymore, Emily. Try to understand me.

-Still, I don't deserve this kind of behavior;

-I know. And as far as you should know, I'm glad I found you here

-Really?

Really. But...

-But I don't quite prefer I found you here. It's not good for me to see you after all this times. I don't know how I could make this sound less douchey, but it is what it is.

I'm holding her hand to make her stay. She tries really hard not to hit me.

-You're making it so damn hard to trust you, you know that? I know you for so long and I still can't figure out if you crack jokes or turn serious.

I have a really hard time figuring this out myself, as well.

-I'm serious. It bugs me to act like nothing happened and this bald fuck touching you doesn't make it easier for me.

-You didn't seem to have this problem before, right? Let me remind you that it was you that didn't want to commit. What changed?

-Nothing

-You want it your way, as always

-Just like you, right? Only difference I have to wait for you to decide what exactly you want from me

-You're so bitter

-I'm in love

I can't stand fighting with her. She can't stand fighting with me. That's why we slow down a bit. We get cautious at our words now, we're testing each other's defences to avoid getting hurt.

-John passed away

-I'm really sor-

-No. No you are not. It's ok I guess, but I spent so much time with him and it got to me pretty hard

-You are wrong, I'm not that petty

-I was hunting you down for so many days to talk to you. You were hiding from me

It's difficult to make myself look more stupid.

-How you got here?

-John's health went south and he didn't want me to see him like this. It was something like a last gift from him.

-So you got this penguin to comfort you

-Please. Please don't make me regret my decision to talk to you. Please. I needed you in my life so damn much

I hate her for doing this. Not because she does it deliberately, but because it works. Most of the time.

-I think we have to stop having any type of contact, Emily. We can't do this anymore, can we?

I believe in what I say, I know I do, but it feels wrong actually saying, if that makes sense.

-You can't make it so damn easy to me. You just can't

-What do you mean?

-I do not intend to come back. I'm gonna stay here. Not coming back, like at all. You understand?

Oh I understand all right.

Just one day before my flight, I'm buried by the bed sheets and Emily. She plays with my hair and I lock myself on her as the purple dome turns to morning blue. Everything seems so right and wrong. Only this time there's no husband getting between us, just me feeling read to fall right off the window.

-Do not forget me, ok? I know I wont

And that's my soul being smashed to million pieces.

I greet her being super dazed, no idea why. My mouth is dry from the stress, the joy, the exhaustion and I can't help but puke inside the (empty, luckily) elevator. I'm sick, like legit sick. So sick that I lock myself back to my room ust to cry for god knows how long, only to get stopped by Sam. Where's the article, up your ass you fucking moron. I only got ten hours to get my head straight and there's no time for your dumb shit.

It is the same old lady who took me by the hand on my arrival that awaits with a big smile. I try to smile back but my lips are not responding. I could swear she almost pushes me to the plane, before I catch myself dragging my steps like a child. I get my helmet off to let me guilts breathe, trying to figure out how big I fucked up, how much of a coward I am for running away or how dumb I was for thinking about staying for her.

My condition's only getting worse. My ears are ringing as the passengers are sitting around me. They are somehow trapping me and I try to squeeze my eyelids until everything gets blurred so I can't understand much of what's going on and my plan's working pretty well until this australian chick shouts at the air hostess because I give her the creeps. I get up and get to the bathroom. I splash my face, look at my reflection, get disgusted, vomit and get out even more dazed than before.

A couple hundred of old ladies are staring at me with their either frighten eyes, waiting to see just where will I collapse. Unfortunately for them, Emily picks me up and sits me back down. Emily. Emily got a ticket and leaves. She leaves. She changed her mind and she leaves. With me.

-Be careful now, You all right?

-Emily, I think I love y-

-What?

Her face freezes, like I said something wrong to her. Her cheeks lose all of their color, those markings on her neck disappear, her long hair get more and more grey. I'm panicking, what the fuck is going on? Why is she like that? What did I do?

Nothing. I did nothing. It took a minute to get back to normal but here I am, stuck in my seat before sleeping, feeling the need to dig a hole on the floor and jump inside. Because it wasn't her.

It wasn't her.

It wasn't her.