#so i play with open cards rather than acting like the bigger person and silently block and so on

[plantpest]

@ the anons in my ask telling me i'm a bully: have you ever wondered what the world could be like if you gained some basic reading comprehension?

[ladyanaconda]

Helluva Dad Vol. 4: Spring Broken

Bombproof just had to get a cold; it was nothing serious, but he'd need to rest for a few days, meaning that Striker and Jake would have to ride the I.M.P. van to get to work. It might have been a more-or-less intriguing experience if not for the radio music playing at full volume and Blitzo's careless driving. Striker spent most of the ride covering his ears while Jake was peering through the window alongside Millie.

This is why he'd rather ride Bombproof to work.

"Daaad! Can we ride the van with uncle Blitzo more often?!"

"Over my corpse!" Striker shouted over the noise. "Get away from the window, boy! The last thing I want is you losing your head!"

"But it's so fresh out here, dad!"

"Now!"

Jake groaned and went to sit next to his father with an unhappy scowl on his face. "Killjoy."

"Is this your first time riding a van?" Millie asked curiously.

"No, it's my first time riding a van with a crazy driver!" Striker banged on the wall separating the back with the driver's seat. "Hey, Blitz, can't you go any faster?!" he snapped sarcastically.

Jake's face had gained a somewhat greenish hue and his arms were clutching his stomach. "Dad, I think I'm gonna hurl!" he groaned.

"Kiddo, whatever you do, don't hurl on the carpet or Blitzo will deduct it from this month's paycheck! If anything, hurl on Moxxie's fanny pouch!"

"Hey!"

The van making an abrupt turn to get into the parking lot was the last straw for Jake. As he rushed towards the window, the vehicle came to a sudden stop and skidded. Jake would have flown out of the window if Striker hadn't grabbed him by the tail, but the vomit went up to Jake's stomach, all the way to his throat, and flew out of his mouth.

"Are you okay, my boy?" Striker asked, concerned, as he cradled the impling in his arms.

"I hate vans," Jake grumbled, earning a hair ruffling from his father.

"Listen up, you unoriginal pink cum dump! You have three goddamn seconds to get your tampon race car out of my parking spot…!"

Blitzo's voice brought the stunned group out of their daze. Striker stomped out of the van, intending to pummel Blitzo for the awful experience, but stopped in his tracks as he saw the cause of the problem. A pink car had parked on I.M.P.'s only parking spot. And the owner of the car was none other than…

"Oh shit! Verosika!"

The succubus didn't seem to hear him or didn't care. She was seething with rage, her face dripping with vomit. Jake flinched when her eyes fixed on him.

"I should have known you'd be here. I could smell fish for miles, which is odd because I believe the nearest ocean is…" Blitzo fell off the van's cabin, faceplanting on the ground. "Three rings down!"

Verosika outright ignored Blitzo this time and stomped her way towards the van. Jake hid behind his father.

"You little brat-!"

"Whoa, whoa, hold your horses, miss!" Striker stood to his full height. The succubus was taller than him, but he never faltered. "My boy didn't to… Well, throw up in your face."

"You should be grateful! You got a facial treatment for free!" Blitzo sneered. Verosika looked like she'd snap at any moment, but she merely huffed and wiped the vomit from her face with a napkin, which she then threw at Blitzo's face.

"I suppose you're the fella who spawned that brat, am I right?" She asked, uninterested.

"I'm the boy's father, that's right." Striker nodded. Is it just him or is the succubus eyeing him eye to toe behind her sunglasses?

"You ought to teach that little spawn of yours some manners, cowboy." Verosika purred the last word in a seductive manner, running her hand down Striker's chest, leaning a bit too close for his liking.

Thankfully, Blitzo got in between them. "I'm surprised they let your fat ass out of rehab," he growled. "I can see you're still a drunken whore, clutching unto that beelze juice bottle like it's the last cock in Hell!"

"They let me out because I'm still famous, and rehab is for sad, loser wash-ups." Verosika took a sip from her flash, sneering as she wiped some drops left on her lips. "So, your sister says hi." Jake made a 'burned' hiss. Striker gave him a stern frown.

"Why are you parking here?! This is the only parking spot my company has, so take your tampon race car somewhere else!"

"Um, Blitz…" Jake pointed at the ground. I.M.P.'s name was crossed out in purple spray paint while Verosika's was written in cursive letters.

The succubus smirked. "I'm doing a bit of freelance for one of the infinitely more successful companies in the building…"

"Dad, who's that nasty woman?" Jake asked.

Loona gasped as if the impling has just spoken blasphemy. "Wait, you don't know about Verosika Mayday?"

"Not exactly. I mean, I've seen her in dad's porno magazines, but-" Jake quickly covered his mouth, but it was too late. He laughed nervously when his father stared at him in shock. "Just to clarify, dad, I didn't read. I skipped!"

"I'll talk with you about this later." Striker hissed.

Thankfully, an angry yell from Blitzo distracted them from the argument. "I wasted so much time with a bag of holes like that."

"You know Verosika Mayday?!" Loona asked, incredulously.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, her. Yeah, we dated."

"That explains a lot of things." Striker murmured as Millie and Moxxie stepped out of the van.

"Was it before or after she became a pop star?"

"You dated a pop star?!"

Blitzo frowned. "Okay, why are you all acting like that's such a shock?"

"Hello, it's Verosika Mayday?" Loona pointed out.

"It's you?" Jake added dryly.

"I just… Is she blind? Suffering some form of brain damage? I mean, it'd make sense if she had dated Striker."

The cowboy rolled his eyes. "Gee, thank you, Moxxie, but she's not my type."

"Okay, look, you are all making this into a way bigger deal than it needs to be." Blitzo crossed his arms. "I don't pry into your stupid personal lives."

"You do that all the time, sir!"

"Come on, you kinda do that."

"You totally do that."

"Do I have to remind you all the times I've nearly shot you for sneaking into my house at two in the morning?!" Striker snapped.

"So…" Jake grinned mischievously. "What was sex with her like?" He yelped in pain when his father gave him a smack in the back of the head.

*HB*

Jake didn't quite understand what the fuss was about. From what Millie and Loona said, Verosika Mayday was a musical pop star, but dad wouldn't let him listen to her music; when questioned as to why he couldn't, all dad said was that it was for 'adults'.

In the end, Striker managed to distract his son via target practice. Millie would place an apple on her head so Jake could shoot it with the crossbow; Striker was quite surprised that she wasn't frightened in the least.

"Hey, Blitz, what did you do to Verosika Mayday for her to hate your guts like that?" Striker questioned casually.

"It was nothing, really! I merely borrowed her credit card when she was still sleeping and went to Wrath to take horse riding lessons!"

"Well, no wonder she's so mad."

"Hey, you're supposed to be on my side."

Striker shrugged. "Sorry, but you're on your own when it comes to relationships."

The door slammed open, startling Jake into shooting the arrow a few inches down, but Millie caught it with a hand. Moxxie looked disheveled, and his face was covered in lipstick marks. All he said was that he needed to lay down as he dropped to the floor. Millie went to check on him.

"What happened to Moxxie?" Jake asked. Striker shifted uncomfortably.

"Let's say that he received too much love," he murmured.

"But it wasn't from Millie, she's right here."

"Oh, Strikeeer!" Blitzo sang as he leaned in closer to the cowboy with a wide, exaggerated smile. "Do you know what's the best part of being the employee of the month?"

"Let me guess: to do you personal favors so you won't have to face your shitty issues yourself?"

"Bingo! I was wondering if you could use your… natural charm," Blitzo quirked his eyebrows coyly. "To have that bitch give back our parking spot."

Striker dropped Moxxie's cup of coffee. "What?"

"You know, a little bit of sweet-talking, flirting. Maybe some oral sex-"

"I know what you mean, Blitz! What I mean is why me."

"Well, you're a ladies' magnet. I don't think you'd have trouble convincing a drunken slut to give you all of her assets."

Striker wasn't sure of how Blitzo always, always, manages to convince him to do that kind of stuff, but in the end, he agreed to try 'without' having to recur to sex. He didn't need to go far, as the band of succubus had taken the vacant offices right in front of I.M.P. Well, no wonder Blitzo was so mad! Meeting up with your ex and finding out you'd have to be in the same building for a bloody week wasn't pleasant.

Striker took a deep breath and stepped into the room. Apparently, the succubus band was still making fun of Moxxie's probably tiny dick. They went silent as soon as he came in.

"Well, look who it is."

"Greetings, miss Mayday." Striker tipped his hat for the sake of courtesy. "I suppose I don't need to explain why I'm here."

"Want a kiss, cowboy?" one of the incubi got a little too close to his liking, prompting Striker to point the barrel of his pistol right at the demon's face.

"Put a hand on me and I'll put a bullet in-between your eyes." the imp hissed, tail rattling.

"Oh, look! His tail is like a baby rattle!"

"Hey, did that cute little impling come with you? I want to eat him with kisses!"

This time, Striker pulled out his angelic pistol. "Leave the boy out of this," he growled, expression dark. The sight of the weapon scared the succubi into silence, all but one.

"Well, well, you certainly have more balls than the little guy with the bowtie." Verosika purred, hips swaying as she approached him. "Too bad I already got a bodyguard, 'cause you look like you'd be good at that." she gently pushed the barrel of the pistol aside with a finger, leaning dangerously close to Striker's face. "I suppose Blitzo is still throwing a tantrum over the parking spot, right?"

"That's right, ma'am." Striker stepped back warily, putting his pistol away. "Perhaps we could reach an agreement, considering that…"

He's dealt with succubi before, but never in such a personal manner. Not ever since… Striker knew what was happening when he realized he had been cornered against the wall. Verosika's hands lay on his chest as she leaned in close to his face. His tail rattled uncontrollably. His bottom tightened at the she-devil's enticing aura.

"An agreement, you say?"

"Y-Yes…" Striker cursed himself for stuttering.

Verosika pulled him closer by the waist, licking her lips. "You have such alluring eyes, cowboy. Reminds me of an anaconda hypnotizing her prey…" Striker grabbed her wrist before she could reach for the zipper of his pants. Verosika laughed, running her other hand down the line of his neck. "Let me kiss you…"

Her lips were inches away from Striker's when she heard a click and something pressing against her stomach: the blessed pistol, firmly held in the imp's hand.

"Nice try, sugar, but my heart already belongs to someone else." Striker sneered. Impressed, Verosika stepped back, smirking.

"Not bad, cowboy. Not everyone can resist my charms. Just for that, I'm offering you a deal."

"A deal?"

"A demon duel. I bet you and Vlitzo's sorry company can't off as many people as we can fuck by the end of the day. If you win, I'll return your parking spot. If I win," Verosika whispered into Striker's ear. Whatever she told him sent shivers down his spine.

Reluctantly, Striker looked up at the succubus, fists clenched. "Game on, bitch."

*HB*

"Alright, shut your assholes, here's how we're going to do this shit. First, we find a fuck ton of clients, we portal up, we have our fun murder time as per usual, we pill all the bodies into a big fucking canoe…" Striker didn't pay attention to the rest of Blitzo's ranting, instead distracting himself by polishing his angelic rifle. "Do you have any questions?"

Jake raised a hand. "What does orgy mean?"

Striker spat his mouthful of coffee right into Moxxie's face while the others exchanged nervous glances. Blitzo cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Let's say it's something you aren't supposed to know about for at least ten years. Now-"

"Where did you learn that word?!" Striker all but yelled, grabbing the impling by the shoulders.

"One of Verosika Mayday's songs is called 'Orgy' and I got curious."

"And where did you hear the song?"

"Loona was listening to it." Striker glared at the hellhound, but she merely shrugged.

"What? It's just a song. By the way, think I can come with you guys this time?"

"Absolutely not," Blitzo said, crossing his arms disapprovingly. "I forbid it. Not gonna happen. Sorry, sweetie. Spring break is no place for vulnerable goth girls. You know the kind of freaks yup there who'd drool all over you!"

"Well, I can blend in with humans easily enough. Just let me tag along."

Blitzo blinked. "Wait, say that again?"

"I can blend in…?"

"Do you have a human disguise?" Millie inquired.

"Yeah. Don't you?" Loona widened her eyes in realization. "Wait, you five have been screwing around on Earth this whole fucking time without human disguises?!"

"What if we did?" Jake asked.

"Let's say it's against the rules to be seen by humans in our real forms."

"Okay, new plan!" Blitzo made a new, crudely-made scribble. "Loonie can help lure the humans to us and we'll take care of the rest. Okay, how about that?"

"Flawless logic."

"There's one little detail. We need enough client killing demands to win this bet so I won't have to-" Striker trailed off as he recalled that Jake was listening. He cleared his throat. "How will we get so many clients in such little time?"

Blitzo grinned. "I got that covered, Strike."

*HB*

Basically, Loona just lured the people on the list to a secluded spot so they could kill them without anyone noticing. Jake still couldn't believe how hot Loona looked in human form.

Jake was sure that something was bothering his father. Ever since he returned from talking with Miss Mayday, Dad acted a bit… edgier than usual. He didn't tease Moxxie as often and focused more on killing the targets. But what gave him away was the fact that he was using the blessing-tipped rifle rather than the regular one. He only uses it when there's something on his mind.

By evening, they had killed twelve people, two offed by Jake with a broken bottle.

"That's twelve kills in the back!" Blitzo laughed as they continued to put the bodies into bags. "I'd like to see that waily snatch orgasm that many…"

"All right, spring breakers! Ya'll ready to get fucked up and make some bitchin' bad choices?!"

The group glanced in the direction of the nearby stage adorned in black and pink just as Verosika stepped out of the smoke in her own human disguise. All the humans on the beach roared in excitement as the concert began. Jake noticed something odd in their behavior. Once Verosika started to sing, they-

Something covered his eyes. "Hey!"

"You're not supposed to watch this, Jakey!" Millie cried out hurriedly. Striker gave her a thankful look.

"Goddammit! That bitch started her goadish mating call! Now she's gonna win all those sex maniacs! We gotta pick things up, guys! He's on the list, Loonie?"

"Huh? Y-Yeah… I-I think so." Striker realized that Loona hadn't even looked at the supposed target. Her attention was focused on Verosika's own hellhound.

"Blitz, I don't think-" Too late. Blitzo had already sliced through the human's skull.

"All right, next one, Loonie, come on." No reply. "Loonie? Wait, where-" Blitzo panicked once he realized Loona was nowhere to be seen. "Where's my baby?!" Striker merely pointed towards Verosika's hellhound. There she was.

"And… We've lost him." Moxxie sighed as Blitzo stomped his way towards the hellhounds.

"Can't blame him. I wouldn't like any guys sniffing 'round my daughter either." Striker murmured. "Anyhow, looks like we'll have to handle the rest of the list."

Millie laughed in excitement. "Hell yeah! Team MMSJ getting shit down!"

Jake wanted to help with the killing spree, but his father put him on a table behind some beer barrels, blindfolded him with his red scarf, and firmly told him to wait for him there. So the impling sat there with a big pout on his face, arms crossed. What's up with dad today?!

"Yeah, party!"

The table was knocked over without warning. Jake fell face flat onto the ground. "Ow! What the…?!"

"Eeww! Oh my god! Fucking possums!"

"Wait, what?" Jake lifted the blindfold and realized the humans had seen him. Before he could try to escape, he was grabbed by the tail and shoved into a barrel of beer.

"Ow! Jake?!"

"Moxxie?! What's going on?!"

"I don't know, I think the humans mistook us for opossums!"

The two imps were thrown about within that confined space, sometimes getting submerged under the beer. They accidentally ended up taking big gulps of the alcoholic beverage.

*HB*

"That boy is in so much trouble!"

He gives him one simple instruction: wait at the table. Then he returns ten minutes later to find Jake and the table gone.

"Hey, Mildred! Have you seen Jake 'round here?" Striker asked Millie as soon as he saw per peering into a barrel.

"He and Moxxie are inside one of these barrels!"

"What? What the fuck are they doing in there?!"

One of the nearby barrels wobbled. Striker tipped it over with a kick, spilling out the remaining beer as well as two familiar imps.

"Moxxie!"

"Jake!"

"Millieee!" Moxxie blurted out in a drunken state. "Hey, when did you get four heads? I wanna kiss 'em!"

"Jake? Are you okay, kiddo? Striker grabbed his son by the shoulders. "Answer me, boy!"

"Hey, daddy! The impling said in-between hiccups." "This water's soo tasty! Can I have more?"

Striker rubbed his temple. "Wonderful. My kiddo's drunk and he's only nine."

"Chill out, cowboy! Just don't tell Striker 'cause he'll make a fuss!" Moxxie giggled.

Striker would have made a fuss if not for the massive sea monster that emerged from the ocean. A loud roar sent most of the humans running away from the beach, but Moxie and Jake were completely unfazed.

"Oooh, fishy! Can I keep it, daddy?"

A long, slippery tongue wrapped around Moxxie and Jake as they were pulled into the monster's mouth.

Striker and Milli exchanged determined nods. The former shot a nearby human to take his bottle and make a molotov cocktail, which he threw at the monster. The explosion was enough to make the creature fall. The imps swam towards the mutant fish, digging their respective knives into its hide just as it got back on its feet. They managed to climb towards the mouth and pry the jaws open; Moxxie and Jake, still in the tongue's grasp, were clumsily punching the monster's uvula. Millie reached out for their hands, but instead of clasping it, the drunken imps merely gave her a high-five.

"Oh, for the love of…!" Losing his patience, Striker went into the mouth and sliced the tongue off. The fish shrieked in pain and spat out the severed organ, and its two captives, with it.

However, the abrupt movement slipped the angelic rifle off Striker's shoulder and sent it down the beast's throat. "Oh, no, you don't! Mildred, think you could keep this thing busy?!"

"Striker, what are you doing?!"

The cowboy took out his knife. "I'm gonna retrieve my weapon."

*HB*

Millie and Striker swam back to the beach, both panting heavily. The latter was covered in the creature's blood after slicing open its entrails, his rifle held tightly in one hand and the bloodied knife in the other. They reunited with Blitzo, Moxxie, and Jake on the shore.

"Oh, yeah, way to show off, guys!· Blitzo cheered.

"Are Mox and Jakey okay?" Millie asked.

"Oh, yeah. They're fine." Blitzo looked down at the still-drunken imps in his arms and dropped only Moxxie to the ground.

Thankfully, Jake had fallen asleep; his young age made him less tolerant of the heavy alcoholized state. Striker carefully took the boy in his arms.

"Aww, they grow up so fast!" Blitzo chirped, teary-eyed, as he watched Jake snuggle in his father's embrace.

Sadly, the relief didn't last long as Verosika and her crew approached.

"That was handled rather… Obvious, don't you think?" Verosika sneered.

"You know, I found this," Striker held up a black and silver flask decorated with hearts. "While slicing through that creature's entrails," he smirked. "And I know for certain that it doesn't belong to any of us." That said, he tossed the flask back to its owner.

"Would be a shame if anyone found out you guys were behind a giant monster fish in the human world." Millie sneered.

"Oh satan! You all be so… fucked! Haha…!" Moxxie laughed in his drunken stupor.

Verosika was taken aback by the realization that they were right. "Yeah, well, you five nasty ass gremlins will be in shit for not being in disguises." she countered.

"A human called me a possum. I'm not a possum!" Moxxie collapsed face-first into the ground.

"And given that the humans who saw us were in a deep alcoholic intoxication state, they'll probably think it was a product of their imagination." Striker added with a sneer of his own.

Blitzo chuckled. "You know, we could keep this little Bee movie scene on the down-low if you agree to let us use that parking space." Striker nearly laughed at the sour, almost childish scowl on the succubus's face. She was against the ropes and she knew it.

·...Fine."

While the others cheered at their victory, Striker merely sighed in deep relief.

"Hey, Strike, now that we're on it, what did that bitch say you'd have to do if we lost?" Blitzo asked later that day.

Striker's only response was a loud slurping sound with a straw as he enjoyed a well-deserved meatshake.

[cafedanslanuit]

[ k i n k t o b e r ]  d a y   12    -   masterlist

↪ character: jumin han [mystic messenger]

↪ tags/warnings: +18, female!reader, cam girl, videocall sex, mutual masturbation, porn with plot.

↪ a/n: the way i intended this to be short and turn out to be a full story lol. still, i really liked this and i can picture going back to this scenario again <3

Pop-up ads were Jumin Han’s worst nightmare.

No matter how many fancy antivirus the tech department installed on his laptop, he always managed to click somewhere he wasn’t supposed to and next thing he knew, there was a picture of an erect penis on his screen.

It usually didn’t irritate him as much, but that day he had to stay up working on a project and now he was stuck in a website he couldn’t close, no matter how many times he clicked the small “x”. He had called someone from the tech department and solicited a new laptop. It was going to take around thirty minutes for it to arrive. He poured himself a glass of wine and looked disgusted at his screen, where a blonde woman was playing with her breasts in front of the camera, that said “Live”.

Once again, he tried to close the window, but instead opened a new one instead, making him roll his eyes backwards in exasperation. When he looked at the screen again, he saw a young woman with long brown hair and big eyes looking at the screen with a small smile. It felt like she was looking right into her eyes, and he covered the camera on his laptop for a second just to make sure she wasn’t. She was wearing a white baby doll while kneeling on her bed, her bare thighs looking incredibly soft and alluring. She wasn’t touching herself but rather playing with her hair and giggling once in a while after looking at her screen. Jumin’s eyes darted to the right, where he saw comments from anonymous people appearing by the second.

As she read them, she propped up her thigh, making Jumin blush instantly. He couldn’t see her underwear, but the innocent way she had moved as if she hadn’t figured out she was showing more skin made his head spin.

His security guard knocking on his door made him come back to reality. His new laptop was probably back. Jumin quickly noted down the name of the user and the name of the website that had appeared in front of him before opening the door and taking his new laptop to finish up his work.

Watching her became a regular thing he did right before he went to bed. After a quick research he had understood what was the purpose with what the internet called cam girls, but the girl he had become so obsessed with didn’t meet all the criteria. For example, he hadn’t seen her naked once, every time she wore lingerie that covered from her breasts to her bottom. She usually just chatted with the people that left comments and sometimes would show off the clothes she was wearing. Jumin felt embarrassed at the tent that formed in his pants after she turned around to show off a cat lingerie that had a tail attached to it.

Two weeks after his discovery, he found himself again watching her. She was wearing a black lingerie set and was kneeling on her bed, a slightly distraught expression on her face.

“No, thankfully I’m okay,” she said, and her voice made Jumin’s heart flutter. “It just isn’t working anymore. A lot of smoke came out and I had to call a tow truck.”

He paid attention to the comments as they appeared and figured out it was about her car breaking down. She proceeded to explain how much she needed it to get to work and that she still didn’t have the money for it.

“So, if anyone can donate at least $5 I’d be really thankful,” she shrugged with a sheepish smile that didn’t match with the website he was watching her in.

For the first time ever, he moved his fingers to the keyboard and typed a message.

user18368: ‘How much does it take to fix your car?’

He watched her eyes go to her screen and read his comment.

“Oh, it’s about $2000. So yeah, I’m hoping I can get some here and then maybe sell some of my stuff, I don’t know,” she answered, fixing the strap on her bra.

The big golden ‘Donate’ button seemed to get bigger as he weighed his options. Jumin wasn’t an impulsive person, but seeing her sad face and the fact $2000 wasn’t a lot of money for him to begin with, he impulsively took out his credit card and filled out the form to send the money she needed.

The look of surprise on her face was enough for him to smile when she saw his donation appear on the screen. The cute way she covered her mouth with her hands as she bounced on the bed with glee was all Jumin needed to stop asking what the other people in the chat meant by calling him a ‘simp’. She thanked him, or well, she thanked user18368 for the donation and said she would call him later for his reward.

Reward?

Jumin’s eyes flickered to the stop of the screen where he saw the title of that day’s stream: ‘Emergency giveaway: 1 on 1 session! <3’.

Oh.

Not even five minutes after she finished the stream, he saw a small pop-up on the website that said ‘Sweetheart’ wanted to chat. Jumin swallowed thick and clicked on the ‘Accept’ button, not sure what he was doing. The girl appeared on his screen and waved at him, the most beautiful smile he had ever seen on her face.

“Hey! Thanks again for the car money. I owe you my life,” she joked, bouncing a little on her bed. Jumin stayed silent. His camera and microphone were off, but she was still smiling at him, and unlike the previous times, she was smiling just at him. “Hey, you don’t have to turn on your camera if you’re uncomfortable, but maybe you could turn your mic on? I’m always nervous some kid got here and I’m corrupting a minor,” she explained with a giggle. Jumin pressed on the microphone button.

“Definitely not a child.”

The girl’s eyes widened a little at the sound of his voice, her cheeks blushing at the same time. She bit her lip and then put on a smile again.

“Okay, what would you like to do? Would you like me to do something you like?”

“No,” Jumin answered quickly. “No, I-- I honestly didn’t know there was a prize behind this. I just wanted to send you the money you needed because I’ve been watching you for a while and I wanted to help out.”

“Oh, for how long?” she asked, curiously.

“A couple of weeks,” he said, embarrassed. “If that’s okay.”

“It’s totally okay,” she assured him, smiling again just the way he was starting to fall for. “I don’t really do a lot of shows in public, but sometimes I agree to do other… stuff in private sessions like this,” she said, playing with her hands.

“Like what?” he asked, intrigued.

“Like… well, sometimes I tell them what I would like someone to do to me. Sometimes I play with myself a bit,” she said, her fingers stroking the hem of her cleavage. Jumin felt himself getting hard at every move she made. “Or I watch them touch themselves. But if you don’t want to turn on your camera it’s really okay. I can tell you what to do.”

“What to do?”

“Uh-huh,” she hummed. “For example, I’d like you to lower your pants right now and touch yourself over your underwear. That is, if you’re wearing any,” she added with a cheeky smile.

Jumin looked at his locked bedroom door, not sure what to do. He had never been one to enjoy these kinds of situations, but there was something about her that drew him to oblige to her every word. She was waiting for him patiently, her innocent face a sharp contrast to what she was asking him to do. Still, he started touching himself over his pajama bottoms, his cock twitching at the attention.

“Mmmm, are you by any chance a little hard?” her voice rang, making him look at the screen again.

“Yeah,” he muttered. Jimin felt dirty, he felt like someone was going to catch him doing something indecorous, but he also couldn’t stop himself from complying to her orders.

“I always take that as a compliment,” she smiled, sticking her tongue out playfully. “Can you touch yourself directly now?”

Jumin did as told, freeing his cock and starting to pump it. He let out a groan as he made contact with his erection and right when he was about to apologize, he saw her biting her lips.

“I like your voice,” she commented, playing with her black babydoll. Jumin kept pumping himself, feeling somewhat proud she was reacting to his voice as well. “Now, I don’t want any fast movements. Just slow, like this,” she said, moving her hand on the screen.

He imitated her hand movements with his own, imagining for a second she was there with him instead of behind a screen.

“Fuck,” he hissed. He wanted to go faster, but her hand was still moving slowly and he wouldn’t be the one to do anything but what she asked him to. He saw her biting his lip when he talked again.

“Okay. Now slowly circle your tip with your thumb. But softly, as if it was a small lick,” she winked. She waited for him to do as she said, his breathing becoming more ragged with every second that went by.

Jumin’s deep grunts were making her squirm on her seat. How could someone’s voice be that attractive? She wished he turned on his camera, but knew better than to pressure him to do so. Closing her eyes, her right hand travelled to her front, underneath her lingerie and started rubbing her clit. She let out a soft mewl, her middle finger drawing circles around her clit, making her see stars.

“Keep pumping yourself, a little faster now” she said, trying to ignore how much she was panting at her own ministrations. “But please, let me hear you more.”

With one hand, he brought his laptop closer to him, so she could listen to his voice better. Jumin was never one to do these things. He had been thought better, he knew the proper way to act with a lady, but… the way she was slightly bouncing on the bed as she touched herself had caused a short circuit inside his head.

“Keep going, keep going,” she whispered, a moan escaping her lips. She parted her legs and even if he couldn’t see anything, the sole sight of her hand rubbing against her while her face was contorted in pure pleasure was enough to send Jumin over the edge. He grunted as he did so, staining his stomach with his release, as his eyes were still glued on the screen.

She kept touching herself, the sound of Jumin’s orgasm obviously affecting her, as her back arched as she kept her hand moving rapidly.

A dark idea crossed Jumin’s mind as he saw her getting closer, an idea he might not have acted on unless he was sure she couldn’t see him, like in that moment.

“Keep going,” Jumin instructed her, his voice a bit hoarse as he was just coming back to his senses. She opened the eyes and looked at the screen, her cheeks bright red, and nodded. In a matter of seconds, she was orgasming in front of him, and Jumin thought he had never seen a woman more beautiful than her. Even as she broke down, her face looked pristine, innocent, and the way she hadn’t even undressed herself or seen him for her to come undone was making his head spin.

She inhaled deeply as she tried to regulate her breathing, a shy smile as she looked at the front camera.

“Sorry, I-- Your voice is just… really hot,” she muttered, looking down at her hands.

“It's okay. You’re very enticing yourself,” he replied, wishing he was able to pull her on his lap and hold her close after sharing such a moment. 

She thanked him again for the money and he shrugged it off. The little wave she did to him as she said goodbye stayed on his mind for the rest of the week.

---

It was like everyone he met knew what he had done one week ago. Jumin knew they didn’t, but that didn’t help from feeling stressed whenever someone looked at him for a second longer than needed. The girl with the long brown hair and big eyes was living on his mind, twisting and twirling the red strings he had there, only managing him to confuse him even more. He had avoided her stream the last few days, wanting to desintoxicate himself, but quickly learnt it wasn’t possible.

“We’re here,” Jaehee said, as Driver Kim stopped the car. It was supposed to be a short balance meeting after the last RFA party, and taking into consideration everyone’s schedules, they had agreed to meet at a cafe downtown. Jaehee had assured everyone the meeting shouldn’t be longer than half an hour, but that their presence was necessary as she needed everyone to sign some documentation for the donations.

When he entered the coffee shop with Jaehee, he saw Saeyoung, Zen and Yoosung were already there. After muttering ‘good afternoon’, she sat on his seat and watched idly as Saeyoung was teasing Yoosung over something he didn’t quite hear.

“Now that the CEO-in-line is here, we can finally order,” Zen said, rolling his eyes at him. Jumin ignored him, not having the energy to respond to that. The actor called over one of the waitressed, who quickly approached their table.

“Hi! Are you ready to order now?” she asked in a cheerful tone.

Jumin didn’t even have to look up to know whose voice he had just heard.

[crowleyellestair]

Geralt’s Problem - Pt.2

Summary: This is a part 2 to the request : Geralt X Healer! Reader where she is tagging along with the boys. Over the time she has spent tending to his wounds, and on occasion, savign him, Geralt begins to develop feelings for her but he doesn’t understand them, so he pushes them aside. One bad part of thier trek, she falls through ice, and almost dies. Geralt needs to come to terms w/ some feelings

@boiblunder, Thanks for wanting to be tagged!

AN/// So many of you guys wanted a part two, so here it is!!!!!

 Masterlist

 “Just admit it- I’m the best.” Y/n’s confidence rounded her melodic voice. The sentence was full of humor and joy that hung in the air, traveling throughout the fortress. Eskel threw his remaining cards down, huffing. His hand reached up to rub the scar that ornamented his features out of frustration and bewilderment.

“I don’t know about that, Lady Y/n, but you are good.” His statement finalizing that he was conceding. The woman rolled her eyes, picking up his deck, and rifling through the cards. He watched as she threw them into piles, one bigger than the other.

“It’s because you didn’t take my recommendation to heart. You need to spread out your strength. I knew you had a siege-based deck, therefore I added that rain card. I analyzed your fighting style, and adjusted to beat you- you should be able to do that better than most.” Her last sentence came out playful, and he blushed. Y/n had come to learn that he was too bashful for his own good, the only emotion ever to cross his face was embarrassment. Sadly, for the Witcher, he was embarrassed quite often. She let out a playful laugh and pushed both piles to him. “Keep the larger one, and add disbursed power from other cards you have. Maybe tomorrow lady luck will smile at you.” She swung a leg over the bench, going to get up, but stops before completely leaving. “But I doubt it.” She smiled and left the table, going to find Geralt.

The thing Y/n loved most about Gwent was that it was a great way to think. Sure, the game was based on focus and strategy, but she had been playing her whole life. She was just as skilled in the game as she was a healer, so she could get lost completely in the thought of something other than the game, and still win. She felt bad for the brunette, feeling as though she cheated him somehow. She respected all the men of Kaer Morhen, and she had guilt eating at her. Rather than being a good opponent, she was completely focused on something else, using his love of the game to get herself in a good headspace to think about her problem.

That problem was Geralt.

But despite the weird air around her and her problem, she should have given her all into those games. She saw Eskel as a friend, and he deserved her full attention. Tomorrow, she swore she would pour everything she had into it, especially since she knew he’d be bringing his A-game. He had yet to beat her, so tomorrow should prove eventful. Though, that night could prove eventful too, if she ever found her favorite Witcher.

She had first swung by the library, but her go to source of knowledge was asleep. Vesemir was a treasure trove of info that she had found useful. The last few weeks had been spent learning under him and everything he was willing to share about the world.

The courtyard had an area clear for training, which was her next stop. Lambert and Coën were occupying it, but it seemed they were on a small break. With a smile, she approached the two.

“Good afternoon, you two! Slacking off as usual, I see.” Coën spared a smile, but Lambert bristled. Due to the nudge given by his fellow Witcher, Lambert calmed, but still kept a defensive manner. Y/n threw her hands up in mock submission while continuing her way to them. “I just came to see if you knew were Geralt was.”

“You would like to know, wouldn’t you?” Coën clicked his tongue to his friend’s response, but Lambert didn’t care. Her smile dropped, looking blankly at him. She couldn’t find it in herself to truly be offended. She knew that they were wise beyond their years, which were plentiful.

“Again, I’m sorry for intruding your season. I know winter is your guys’ time.” Lambert rolled his eyes, but he loosened a little. On her first night, she wouldn’t stop apologizing for being there, no matter how much reassurance she received from them. Lambert was more annoyed at the affect she had on their friend Geralt. Lambert couldn’t bring himself to trust her completely, despite what Geralt has let on so far, because she was just as good as the average Witcher at keeping her feelings a secret.

It didn’t help his suspicions when he noticed how odd Geralt had been acting.

He was aware of Yennifer and her affects, and he didn’t need to see his brother go through that again.

  That night, when he was pulled out of his meditation by the main subject of his thoughts, he simply didn’t know how to respond. Sure, maybe glaring at her wasn’t the best option, but he wasn’t used to responding accordingly in these types of situation. Geralt had emotions, there was no doubt about it. The Trial of Grasses couldn’t erase them like it had others, but that had made life more difficult. He was used to bottling them up and acting like they didn’t exist. Witchers were supposed to be passive in situations, as they were too powerful to take sides. He had meant to go for a smile, but the realization was too shocking to let it out right.

Her reaction hurt him the most. She had asked him what was wrong before going back to the bed, grabbing a blanket, and covering herself. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel like he disapproved of the way she looked. He had tried to confess right then, in a raw emotional moment as he was vulnerable from meditation. Instead, he awkwardly complimented her, then dismissed himself.

It took him a stroll to the stables to realize he had left her in an unknown place without pants, and he had marched back in, acting passive- as if he didn’t feel guilty and embarrassed. She had felt the same way, insisting on giving him his room back, and sleeping in the tower. He accepted her wishes, silently scolding himself for pushing her away, though he was grateful to know that he had the option to go over things alone in his head.

And it wasn’t that he wanted to purposely avoid her, he just needed space to think.

Geralt often thought he wasn’t good enough to be friends or lovers with people because of what he was, even if he was constantly reassured- even if he craved their affection. It was just his nature, and he didn’t think he would ever change. Even now, he thinks that Jaskier might still want to leave forever, even after traveling together for all those years. And Geralt wouldn’t blame him, nor would he follow after.

So, Geralt wanted to decide if he would condemn her to him. Would his confession just put her in danger constantly? Would she be content with life knowing a killer would come back to her bed every night? Geralt hadn’t wanted to admit that she did, in fact, love him back. It was only speculation, even if all the signs pointed to her affection.

  Roach had been getting extra care over the past few nights as he would go there to ask her all of the pressing questions on his mind. He was grateful that Y/n had been so interested and open minded about him and his brethren, and frequently asked them to talk of tales. With her distracted, he wouldn’t have to face her. Maybe that was the wrong wording, because Geralt wasn’t a coward. He just couldn’t accurately predict how things would play out. He hadn’t wanted to make a scene, as they still had the rest of Winter to sit through. It had seemed to him that she had unknowingly charmed most of the others, and if things did go south, he didn’t know how it would affect the rest of them. He certainly didn’t want his love life to be discussed among his friends.

“Would you mind if I borrowed some cards from your deck?” Again, Geralt had found himself scolding as he was too lost in thought to process her approach. He patted Roach before looking to her. When his eyes met hers, all he could do was nod.

The world fell away. The chill that hung on the air stopped nipping at him as warmth radiated from her. Though it was growing darker outside, her eyes were like the sun, lighting his heart and mind. She had a reserved, unsure smile plastered on her face, which drew all of his attention.

“Thanks. I told Eskel to change his deck to have a better chance, but I never told him I was going to change mine as well.” He could tell by her tone and somewhat forced laugh that she didn’t want to make small talk, that there was something else. He knew what it was, but he wasn’t ready yet. He was damn near a century old and he wasn’t ready. He thought maybe he never would be.

“That seems fair, though I don’t think you need to.” A hint of her relaxed self had slipped through for a moment. So had Geralt when he knew she caught the underlying compliment in his statement. She looked around the clean stables, walking over to the fence and perching on it. Her hands nervously rubbed her thighs as she let out a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry.” Geralt’s brows furrowed so much it hurt, his eyes piercing her, though she wouldn’t look at him. “I didn’t mean to fall through the ice or invade your personal space here. I understand you guys come here to take a break from society. And I don’t know what I said to make it worse and to make you so dissociated, but I’m sorry. For all of it.” Geralt side stepped Roach to approach her, his hand reaching out as if to calm a cornered animal. When he entered reaching distance, he hesitated, but placed his hand on her upper arm. His thumb made calm swiping motions. He wasn’t sure if it was helping, but he knows Roach always liked it. Geralt didn’t want to compare Y/n to a horse, but his mare was always there, and it’s how he had received social interaction for a really long time. Roach is the only being, other than the woman before him, where he truly felt comfortable interacting with.

“Don’t say that. You’ve done nothing wrong.” His voice was light despite the harshness of the situation. Her gaze finally found his, and he was put into a sort of ease.

“Are you sure?” Because you’ve been avoiding me? Geralt’s face was apologetic and soft. He wanted to clear the air, but he didn’t know if he could bring himself to say it. Those three pesky words that want to rush out of him and never leave all at once. Those three words that have been causing her pain by not being said, but could be worse for her if they were. “You’re sure I haven’t upset you in some way?”

“I don’t think you ever could.” Geralt could tell that she tried to hide it, but the look of hope and shock passed her for a brief moment. She looked to the ground again, biting her lip. They stayed there for a while, Geralt’s thumb never stopping it’s calming circles.

“Do you… Do you think we could do something tomorrow? Like together?” Her glaze flicked up to him, the raw purity shown hitting Geralt like a brick wall.

“What did you have in mind?” Y/n’s lips pursed.

“I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” Her shoulders shagged just a touch, but he could tell.

“I was planning to hunt on The Trail tomorrow, a skilled healer should be present.” He could feel his heart swell when she perked up. A smile burst on her and she said playfully and confidently,

“Well, you do seem to get yourself into trouble still. I don’t mind reprising my role as your hero again.” The Witcher rolled his eyes, but grinned. He reluctantly let go of her arm and started to escort her back to the tower. When they had reached her room, he had said goodnight.

“Goodnight to you too, my damsel Bartholomew.” Again, he felt himself rolling his eyes. He was thrown back into the memory of her saving him from the horde of wraiths and that fake name she had given him. She smiled and softly closed the door, the last glimpse of her was going to forever be etched in his mind. From his perspective, she had a holy glow from a candle he couldn’t see, making her the ethereal being she truly was- too gracious for this world.

  Her feet pounded just as fast as her heart. Y/n had memorized the way from her room to Geralt’s within the first week, and she’s glad she had. She only hopes that he was actually in the room. Blindly retracing her way to his place, she almost tripped. The adrenaline she had coursing through her would have made it so it wouldn’t have mattered. Tears were already streaming down her face, so more from any temporal pain wouldn’t make a difference. A voice in the back of her mind had felt bad, as she was sure that the others could probably pick up on her panic. She didn’t want to disturb anyone, but with their heightened senses, it was hard not to. She tried, successfully, to keep all external noises to a minimum, but she doubted it helped.

Y/n had soon made it to his door, her hand shaking as it went to knock. Her hand never made it to the wood as Geralt whipped it open. He looked to have been in bed as his hair was a mess and he had loose trousers barely gripping onto his hips. When his eyes met her wet ones there was no hesitation in bringing her to his chest. His nose found her hair, lips pressing to the top of her head. His arms locked around her form, and she let out a sob he could tell she was trying to control and keep quiet. He stepped into the room, but never left her. He pushed the door closed with his foot.

And there they stayed. Y/n freely let out sobs that wracked through her whole body. She almost started coughing, not getting enough air in despite her gasps for it. All Geralt could do was hold her. Her hands were gripping onto his chest as though her life depended on it. It took a couple of minutes, but she finally seemed to calm down some, only silent tears falling. She pulled back somewhat, apologizing. Her hand wiped away tears, but more replaced them just as fast.

“Why are you apologizing again? You’ll never need to apologize to me.” Geralt placed a large hand in the junction between her neck and shoulder, the other where it had been on her upper arm earlier that day. His voice was as gentle as he could make it.

“I-.” A hiccup cut her off. “I had a dream, but it felt real. I just needed to make sure you were okay. I didn’t mean to disturb you this much.” He was baffled, and it must have shown, because she seemed confused by his reaction. Her brows furrowed and soft sniffles fizzled out in the room.

“You didn’t disturb me.”

“But you were sleeping-.”

“Your wellbeing will never be a disturbance, Y/n.” She nodded, but he could tell she didn’t believe him.

“Would it be okay if I stayed? Just for the night?” He nodded and let her go. He flowed to the bed, lifting the blankets for her to crawl under. She seemed to find a good spot, and he subtly tucked her in. Moving to the other side, he too moved under the covers. It was silent until she spoke up. “I dreamt that someone got to you while you were asleep. I couldn’t do anything because I didn’t come into your room till the next morning. By then… It was too late. It felt so real- like it was a vision or something. I just… Want to be here to help if anything does happen.”

Geralt understood completely. He was a protector of the innocent, but when it came to Y/n, he had always been on the lookout for a nonexistent danger. Even after the first night of traveling together, he would prop himself up closer to her sleeping form to be there before anything else could be. Usually, Jaskier and Geralt would sleep simultaneously, but they had established a system once she started coming along. Jaskier would stay up, playing his lute for a couple hours while Geralt got rest, then they’d switch for the rest of the night. Luckily for the brooding man, Jaskier understood why, and with little jest, complied completely.

“I’ll be okay. You should get some rest. You’re already here, no need to suffer.” Geralt had meant it. He didn’t want her losing sleep over a dream, even if he did understand her need to protect. He had been resting on his back when she sat straight, and leaned over him. Her hand rested on his bare chest, just over his heart.

“I can’t do that. I know it sounds silly, but…” Y/n sighed, shaking her head. “I just can’t.” She stayed there, propped over his chest.

“Thank you.” He again could see her shaking head, but a melancholy smile twisted on her features.

“Don’t thank me.” This confused Geralt, but if she had felt the same as he assumed, it all became clear. And the look of sadness and self-hatred that flared on her set his decision in stone. Geralt sat up to match her, but a hand made sure hers stayed over his slow heart.

“I do. If the situation were reversed, you’d be doing the same. I too wouldn’t need to be thanked, as I would be doing what was necessary.” He could tell that she didn’t understand, and he let out a soft breath. His heart started to beat faster, almost reaching the speed of a normal human’s. Y/n could feel it, her gaze locking onto her hand the pressed more to try and feel it. “It would be foolish to think I wouldn’t protect the one I…love, even if it were a whim.” Her eyes widened, darting to meet his. Geralt’s face was soft, but nervous. He now understood what it meant to have ‘butterflies in your chest’. “I would stay up every night for you, Y/n.”

“Geralt- this is real, right? You really love me back?” He smiled gently before squeezing the hand he trapped to his chest. She let out a short, aggressive, breathless laugh. Her eyes flicked to there hands, but then back up to his, a fresh was of glass covering her irises.

“I think that’s what this feeling is. I’ve never felt it before, but I’m sure.” There was no hesitation on her part; as soon as his sentence was over, her lips were on his.

  There was a tinge of guilt through every kiss, touch, smile and conversation spoken between the two. Geralt never felt worthy of her, and he knew she worked overtime to try and express that he was. But he was happy, and from what he could see, so was she.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

They Don’t Know You Like I Do

This is a reupload, a throwback. It was originally written in 2019 and posted on my old account calumh-excess. I hope you guys enjoy.

In the same universe as We’re Outsiders.

Sandra should be out of his league. But with a good heart and an open mind, she gives Ashton a shot. That’s all he needs.

Greaser!AU.

Enjoy my masterlist.

Support me on Ko-Fi

No one has my permission to repost this fic, including translations. All rights reserved. Copyright © be-ready-when-i-say-go. 

_________________________

When there’s a knock at the door, Ashton’s a little confused. Though, knocks are more frequent now if he has to be honest. He racks his brain for who could possibly be at the door. It’s not Luke. He had to run some errands for his parents. It’s not Calum. He’s at work; left early this morning. Calum did agree to be at the race. And unless Calum forgot his keys, Ashton is sure that Calum wouldn’t be showing back to the house. 

So Ashton finishes zipping up the boot and walks to the door. Cookie stands on the other side, grinning. Her siblings attached to her hips. He grins at the sight. It’s very common on Saturday mornings for her to show up at his doorstep, whether Calum is home or not. More often not, since Saturdays seem to have picked up at the shop and Cookie seems to be able to sneak away before the morning rush. “Know your boy toy’s not here right?”

She rolls her eyes, extending out the glass dish. “I know. I did talk to him last night.”

Ashton takes the dish; it’s heavier than he anticipated. It smells good though. He won’t lie. The deep inhale almost makes his stomach growl and his mouth salivate. “Thanks.”  They don’t need to be taken care of, but it’s nice. She always brings enough for not just Ashton and Calum, but also Luke and Michael. “One of these days I’m gonna get that recipe.”

“Oh, hot stuff, we’d have to be married for that,” she teases laughing. 

“You say that like I won’t snatch you up from Calum.”

His only acknowledgement to the tease is a smile. “Got one more in the car. Can they sit inside for a second? If you’re not busy.”

“Yeah, they can sit inside for a minute.”

Teresa, Cookie’s sister, taps Ashton on the leg on the way in. A game they seem to always play where he attempts to dodge it, but never seems to skirt out of the way fast enough. Ashton buckles a little at the motion, careful of the food he’s still holding, and drags himself to the kitchen table. “I oughta report this!”

Her brother, Curtis, settles onto the couch. He’s always been quiet. But he smiles at the exchange and settles into the cushions. Ashton leaves the dish out. He’s glad Cookie came by. He wanted to ask her for a favor and had planned to stop by her place or the diner before heading out for the race. 

The door creaks open again and Cookie walks in, heading straight for the kitchen. She doesn’t linger long on the fact that there aren’t many groceries left. She just slips the glass dishes in and prays that they can get back on track soon. 

“You know,” Cookie starts watching her sister and brother pick up the deck of cards at the dinning room table and Ashton stand in front of her. “I could get you in at the diner. My folks ain’t that bad.”

Ashton shakes his head. He knew long ago when he lost his job that Cookie could help him out. Somehow it felt wrong, felt like he would’ve been intruding. Besides, he wouldn’t be down for long. “I appreciate it. But I don’t wanna put your folks in a tighter spot. If I start working there and someone hits the roof, y’all take the hit. Not me.”

“World won’t be so black and white one day.”

“Sometimes I think I could be doing more. More than just surviving and more than just hoping for you.”

“If you got marching boots, I know how to get you in.”

It’s only a nod. They are silent, even as cards shuffle in the background. But Ashton knows, by way of the stirring in his chest, that he’s going to be asking about that march.

“Well, I ain’t mean to take up too much time,” Cookie starts, seeing the current round is coming to an end. 

“Wait before you go, can I ask you a favor?” It’s not exactly the smartest thing in the world he’s done for cash, agreeing to a race.. Though he’s smart and never gets tied up for people that race for pinks. “I need some help.”

Cookie leans back into the fridge, the white Keds on her feet matching the tile as she crosses her ankles. “Help how?”

Ashton knew he shouldn’t have promised Sandra that Cookie would’ve been there without actually asking Cookie. However, by the time Ashton managed to get home, Calum had already gone to bed and Ashton for sure was not about to call up to her house at that time of night. He was just trying to get Sandra to see that he was just a guy, not the label that people had put on him. 

“I have a race.”

Cookie nods. “If you telling me Teresa actually hit you that hard that you can’t drive no more, I oughta sign that girl up for boxing or something,” she teases. 

Ashton has to laugh with a shake of his head. “God almighty, no.”

“What’s about this race and needing help?”

“I need you to tag along. I told this girl they were cool and I just need you around so she doesn’t flip.”

It’s a heavy sigh that expels from her lungs and Ashton all but slides to his knees as he grabs onto her hands. “Please, Cookie? Please?”

“These ain’t no family affair. I’ve got my brother and sister. It’s technically illegal.” While Cookie didn’t hold too fast to the rules that governed them, she was not about to act fast and loose in front of siblings. They have fast lips. 

“I’ve never seen a race,” Teressa cuts in. She’s dealing out half the deck between her and Curtis.

“See!” Ashton says, lips rolling over as he pouts. “C’mon. Just the one solid. Please.”

“And there’s a reason you haven’t,” Cookie replies. If she gets in trouble on her lonesome is fine. Her parents will flip, they’ll give her a lot of noise. However, that was her fault. If she gets into trouble with her sister and brother around that’s a whole new can of worms. One she’d rather avoid. There’s so much pleading on Ashton’s face though. And of course it had to be a girl too. Races aren’t scary, but they can get nasty.“You ain’t racing for pinks are you? Hate to leave you stranded.”

He shakes his head. “No, I’m in no position to race for pinks.”

The house is in decent condition, but he’s between jobs and needs to find a new source of cash fast. His cars the only thing he’s got going for him. He was let off from his previous gig because the owner was worried about his rep. Not that Ashton wasn’t hard working and diligent at whatever he put his hands on. He busted his ass at work. The owner was looking at a ‘bigger picture.’ It’s bullshit if Ashton is asked. He didn’t throw a fit in front of the owner. He thought about it. He wanted to, but he didn’t want to ruin his chances. He quietly took the week’s pay and left the office. He’s got good word from this boss to another place. Ashton’s worried that his reputation is going to precede him all his life though.

Ashton finally continues, “Please, I need your help. I need the bread and she’s--she’s different, Cookie. She’s giving me a shot.” He’s totally smitten, but he wouldn’t completely admit that. Sandra didn’t exactly grow up on this side of town. None of the guys can help him out. Cookie’s his only shot.

It’s one of her few days where she doesn’t have to be on shift during the morning. She had really just wanted to hit the store to see if the hair grease she needed has been restocked and she wanted to just not think about anything until work. 

“Look,” she points over to Teresa and Curtis, “y’all gotta keep tight ships on those lips.”

“Thank you!” Ashton shouts and her siblings chorus. 

“And you,” she starts, finger singling him out.  “I beat feet after it’s done.” Cookie agrees. “But if there’s any heat, I am not hanging around.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Ashton gushes, wrapping her up in a quick hug. “And I totally understand about the cops. I’d literally do whatever to shake your trail. You know that.”

“I know.I know. You surely know how to put a girl in a pickle.”

“It’s a specialty,” Ashton returns. His grin wide. 

The kids continue their game of War before Cookie’s pulling out of the driveway first and waiting for Ashton to lead the way. Admittedly, Ashton didn’t tell Cookie that Sandra was a Soc, a Prep. But maybe she had figured it out by the way he talked about her inexperience with races. Most people would probably laugh at the fact he’s into a Soc. And he knows Cookie would never judge him, but sometimes even he felt a little shame in it. But Sandra is a saint and Ashton is in need of a blessing. 

His logic isn’t flawed, but it is a little wishful. If he wins the race, Ashton can show Sandra his world’s not all that bad, it’s not all dangerous. It has it’s danger for sure. But if he could just get her to see the good, then maybe he had proven that the labels were unjust. And it’s twisted thinking he knows. Sandra already seems him as a good person, she already sees something in him. But it’s the outside world. It was always going to be the outside world it seemed that would be in the way. It reminds of how he was with Cookie and god, it makes him feel like an asshole. He could be the first person to admit that. He would be the first to admit that. 

When they get the makeshift track, old back roads that lead to the deserted factory, Ashton spots the boys. They rush up from the dirt sides. Calum checked the car before he left this morning. But that was then and now it needs another glance, checking for holes in tires or rocks in the tracks.  

Ashton finds her, Sandra, in her red dress with black polka dots. She waves, but doesn’t make a move closer from her car. She swore to Ashton she would find a way to the race. He insisted that they could meet somewhere, but when she looked down, biting the side of her lip, he knew not to push it. He walks over, cheeks lifting into a grin. 

“I feel so overdressed,” Sandra whispers, tucking more of her hair behind her ear.

“Nah, I dig it.” It’s who she is and Ashton can’t stop the thundering of his heart. 

“You sure this isn’t an issue? Like I thought pinks would be involved and everyone here looks,” she doesn’t finish the sentence. This isn’t her crowd. She knows it; Ashton knows it. Ashton’s sweet though. Always helps her grandmother with the bags to her car. He even referred them to a great car shop. One of his friends works there, always looks out for them and makes sure to work on their car exclusively. He’s for sure a fun time, always laughing at something, always making up a new gig when there’s only her in the store and the radio’s playing a good song. But this isn’t her crowd. She’s not sure how they’re going to accept her.

“Hey, my guys are cool. Stick with them and there will be no issue,” Ashton urges. 

Sandra goes to speak, but then she notices a girl with a fro walking up to her, lips painted red. It’s a bold choice, but she wears it well. Ashton’s thankful that Cookie’s approaching. “That’s Cookie. Calum’s girl. The guy that works on your grandmother’s car. I told you she’d be here.”

Sandra nods, a smile lifting her lips. It’s a little bit more comforting to have someone else on Ashton’s side, that’s not a Greaser as company. She thinks the whole Greaser versus Socs is ridiculous, but she’s not naive to think that the lines don’t exist for everyone else. “You Ashton’s girl?” Cookie asks, knowing the true answer. But it’ll make both of them turn red and Cookie can’t pass up on that opportunity.

“Oh, no,” she mumbles as both their cheeks turn beat red. There’s a blashful glance between both of them. Ashton’s hoping Cookie’s teasing isn’t too much but he does like the sound of her being his girl. He needs to win this race, make a good impression and keep Sandra around. That’s all he wants. 

“Alright, Ms. Red, you guys are just friendly. I get it. Mind if I borrow the pretty lady for a moment?” Cookie extenders her elbow, waiting for the gentle grip to move them out the way of the race.

The touch is light and they walk up to the side of the road. Cookie can feel the nerves off Ashton’s girl. She keeps looking over her shoulders. Like she’s afraid something is gonna jump out at her. “First race?” Cookie asks.

The girl nods, ends of her hair flying up in the wind. “Ms. Red? That’s a new one.”

“What’s ya name? Maybe you’d like that more.”

“Sandra. But I like Red better. You’re the one really wearing the devil’s paint better than I ever could.”

“Then Ms. Red it is. And nothin’ wrong with a little make up.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I just--,”

“Don’t have a cow, sweetheart. Just kidding around.”

They reach Cookie’s car, her siblings eying the girl on her arm. They’re suspicious of every new person they meet. It took them ages to warm up to Luke, Ashton, and Michael. She can’t blame them. Every white person to cross their path has only ever spit on them. She’s praying that they don’t hold such skepticism in their heart all the time. “Teresa and Curtis, my sister and brother. Ms. Red.”

Both of them give curt nods. Cookie goes on to introduce the rest of the crew before hopping into the backseat of her car with her siblings, she sits on the edge of the door, feet planted on the seat. Curtis sits between her legs. Teresa right in front of him. “Take a front row seat,” she offers to Sandra waving to the passenger side seat. Calum leans up against her car, right behind Cookie and her siblings, his hands buried in his pocket of his work pants. The switchblade curled into his fingers.

Sandra doesn’t miss the tension. She looks up to Cookie, the fear flashing over her face. “They don’t bite. Well, for anklebiters, they don’t,” she assures.

“You’re going to regret that,” Teresa interject, lightly tapping her sisters ankle. “White people just never done us no good.”

Kids, they’ll always be honest. “Tes,” Cookie warns. The tension is still thick, but the engines roar and Sandra jolts at the sound. “Get in, Red unless you want dust on that pretty little dress.”

“Thank you.” She smiles, climbs into the car and then kneels on the seat to watch them. Another girl, from the opponent's side, stands in the middle of lanes, scarf in her hand. She holds it above her head. She holds it there for a moment. Ashton revs his engine, just get get under the guy’s skin.  “The car’s a lot louder,” Sandra comments. It’s to no one in particular. Curtis climbs to the passenger side of the back seat and stands, looking over the door.

“Ashton’s engine is souped up thanks to Calum,” he says as the rumble settles. “Nothing illegal. Just gives him more speed from the start and he can maintain it for the entire race.”

“Hey, look at my man paying attention,” Calum laughs, holding his palm straight up for Curtis to slap it. They go about their handshake, a series of slap, pumps, and snaps.  

Curtis looks up to Sandra. “We ain’t trying to be mean. We just...sissy, what’s the word? Scared, but like not scared scared.”

“Worried or maybe concerned,” comes from both his sisters.

“Concerned,” Curtis repeats to Sandra. She nods. It makes sense all things considered for them. They have to be cautious to some degree. It’s a matter of life or death. Cookie’s teasing and offering of her car makes Sandra’s less anxious though. She’s completely outside of her realm and needs an anchor. They’re nice. “Nice dress too,” he concludes. “Sissy has a skirt like it.”

Before she can express her gratitude, engines growl to life yet again and Sandra snaps her attention to the road. Ashton doesn’t press down hard on the gas; he, in fact, gives the initial lead away. He can come behind and cut to the inside on the turn. He’s not worried about a lead. He’s got a plan. He always has a plan.

Sandra grips at the door, heart thundering in her chest. “C’mon, Ash. Take him.” The words are falling from her lips before she’s even realized it. After the initial kick up of a dust cloud, she can make out Ashton sliding inside. The first turn comes up and he cuts to the inside. There’s a tap to his bumper, but he tries not to show it. Keeps a steady hand on the wheel to correct.

There’s cheering, but it’s hard to catch it over the rumble of the engines. Sandra can feel it bubbling in her chest as she wants to join in again. She wants to scream his name. She wants to let him know she’s rooting for him. As the second straight away comes up, Ashton falls back just a little. The noses of their cars keep trading places.

Her pulse quickens, veins pumping against her skin. But Ashton looks so calm as they round in for the second lap. “Leave him in the dust! Burn rubber!” Sandra screams. It feels good to let the primal shout leave her lips. Louder shouts from Cookie and Ashton’s group start to cut through the rumble. The entire side of the road is almost as big of a roar as the cars themselves.

Ashton slips in front and hauls ass, pressing harder onto the gas. It kicks up another sputter of dust. As the last straight away comes up, Ashton keeps the car going as fast as it can. He doesn’t even stop until he blows past the start line. “Yes!” Sandra cries, pumping her arms into the air. As the drivers meet, shaking hands and exchanging cash, she climbs out of car and rushes over to Ashton.

“That was incredible,” she gushes. Her heart is still racing. He notices the childlike awe lighting up her eyes.

“Aw, shucks. It won’t nothing,” he replies, cheeks warming as her compliment. That was admittedly a tame race. They can get uglier, there can be scraps. But it’s a relief it didn’t happen. He didn’t want to show her that. He’s careful to stand in front of some of the nicks on the car He knows they traded taps on the course.

“It was pretty amazing to me.” The rest of them walk over, to congratulate Ashton. Cookie, much to her word, leaves after giving her cheers. Calum follows directly behind her, wanting to make sure she gets home safe.

“We ought to celebrate!” Sandra grins, brushing her hands over Ashton’s. She notes the rings adorning his fingers and plays at the pinky ring. “My treat! I’ve got a little of an allowance. What do you say?”

Ashton, flustered at the feel of her fingers over his, nods. “But I can cover myself.”

“Nonsense, you just won! No need to spend the earnings already.”

“I can’t.” He can pay his way through the world and he for sure doesn’t want to seem like he’s too willingly to take advantage of her niceness. 

“Ice it. You’re getting a treat! And don’t think you can run off either,” she warns, walking back to her car. 

Holding up his hands, Ashton knows he’s a goner. Hook, line, and sinker, there’s nothing he can do to save himself. The smile rests on Ashton’s face makes his whole body warm. “I’m listening. No runnin’ from me, ma’am.”

The rest of his guys cheer on his victory but soon it’s wrapped up and he climbs into his car, preparing to follow behind Sandra. Down the streets, Ashton realizes that he’s going further north. The anxiety starts to hammer at his chest and his fingers tremble. God, he doesn’t need trouble. Not right now, not after such a great victory.

Staring up at the sign of the parlour, Ashton’s takes a moment to exhale. He can’t afford trouble. He won’t get into trouble. He won’t. He’s going to just go inside, get a quick treat and then go on about his day. He parks right next to her, climbing out of the car. Eyes are already burning holes into his skin. He tries to swallow that bit of panic that his chest.

The leather jacket feels less like an accessory anymore. It’s armor. He wears it so they know. So they don’t start shit. He wears it so when his shoulders fall, the bulk keeps them wide. Even if he’s not looking for a fight, it looks like he’s ready to scrap.

“What’s your poison?” she jokes as they walk in together. “Stud like you maybe it’s chocolate.”

Ashton laughs softly, shaking his head a little. “I’m actually pretty square. Vanilla’s my vice.”

“Mr. Big and Bad goes for vanilla.”

“He does. Can’t tell anyone though.”

“Secret’s safe with me,” she winks, walking up to the counter to order the shake and even a slice of something for him as well. It’s as she leans against the cool material that she notices the distinct sneer on one of the waitress’ face. It dawns on her. She’s brought him to her side of town. But they don’t know him like she does. So she juts out her chin, reaching into the pocket of her dress. She plays at the bills and finally they girl walks down.

Sandra doesn’t let her open her mouth. “Vanilla milkshake, two straws. Slice of chocolate cake if there’s any left.”

“Anything else?”

A shake of the head no and she turns around to see Ashton, smiling up at her. He digs into his pocket and finds some change before walking over to the jukebox. He looks through the selection. He could be a sap. But right now he feels like making a little scene. He slips in the coin and presses for “The Twist”. Ashton snaps his fingers to beat, looking over his shoulder to her. She leans against the counter, laughing, hair flying in the ponytail.

Ashton starts tapping his foot, shuffling closer to her. People, he’s learned, are always staring at him. He’s gonna give them a reason to stare now. Sandra is beside herself, watching him singing along, while twisting himself side to side. The only thing that matters is her smile, her laugh. Ashton likes being a bit of a goof. He likes to have fun. He knows his life has never been easy, but there’s no reason not to smile. He makes it a goal to make someone smile each day. They deserve, everyone deserves a bit of kindness in the world. He thinks himself to be lucky to give that to anyone. Sandra admires that in him. This drive to give everyone a little piece of happiness.

When Ashton slides his way up to her, holding out his head, she doesn’t hesitate to give into his antics.  They dance in the middle of parlour. She holds onto hands, bending her knees. It’s easy to twist her torso side to side. She’s never been able to do this before. To just let herself go. It’s normally so much emphasis on being a lady, being prim and proper. She’s never really ascribed to you, in a way that she wholeheartedly believed. But she was well aware of the society she was in, the role she was told she had to play.

But she didn’t have to play games with Ashton. She didn’t have to pretend. If she wanted to swear, which she never did anyhow, she knew she could. If she wanted to let her hair down, she could. If she wanted to sit unladylike, she could. She was not restricted with him. And that freedom, the vulnerability, made her fall even more in love with him. God, was she in love with him?

“Uh, you want this shake or not?” the girl behind the counter shouts. “Been waiting for forever over here.”

Sandra walks over, sliding the cash across the counter. “Sorry. Just havin’ some fun.” Another set of hands slide in around her and grab the glass and the plate. She immediately notes the slender fingers, the rings.

“Just a little dancin’ sweetheart. No need to get heated,” he says before going back to their table. He notes one shake and the two straws. “Bold, are we?” he teases, handing one to her.

“What can I say? I’m livin’ on the wild side.”

Ashton brings a piece of the cake to his lips while speaking. “Yeah, so wild your hair’s still up.”

It’s not a challenge, just a tease. But Sandra brings a hand to her hair, untwist the elastic around her hair. Her hair falls down over her shoulders as she shakes it loose. “Anything else to say, Stud?”

No, he’s got nothing else to say.  That’s the thing about her, behind her button nose and blue eyes are a curiosity, a yearning to live life the way she wants to, not the way she’s been told to live it.

Outside at their respective cars, Sandra slips her hair tie from her wrist. The bow sells it, makes his heart warm more than he’s willing to admit as she slides it onto Ashton’s wrist. “Something to remember me by,” she grins softly.

“I’m always thinkin’ about you. So it’s not hard.”

“Smooth talking there.”

Ashton brings his fingers to her cheek before tucking just a little bit of her hair behind her ears. “When can I see you again?” Tomorrow’s her grandmothers doctor’s appointment. She starts her new job the day after. He’ll be okay even if it’s just for a quick moment to enjoy her company.

“I’ll ya a ring, okay?”

He nods, “Okay.”

_______________________________________________

He knows Sandra’s grandmother’s car when it pulls into the gas station. He managed to snag this gig at the gas station. It’s not a lot, but it’s something. He doesn’t quite want to go into the factory just yet. He knows it’ll make him the most money, but he’s gonna clean up his act before doing that. She smiles at him, as he closes in on her hair. She’s still has her driving gloves on. “What can I do for ya, Ma’am?” Ashton teases, opening the gas cover.

“Fill her up.”

“How was work?” She’s a secretary at the firm in town. Not a lot, nothing to write home about but it helps out. Every cent does now for her and her grandmother. Her grandmother’s not sickly. Just getting up in age, requires a lot more attention.

“Long, just glad it’s over.” There’s a moment of silence. “Grandma wants to meet you,” Sandra says. Her voice is soft.

Ashton’s been dreading this. Her grandmother isn’t fond of people like him. Though she smiled in his face when he carried her bags, Sandra tells him that always sneered at home. Always said boys like him were no good. “Thought she hated me.”

“She likes you. Likes the man that makes me smile. But she doesn’t like how she’s never met you, according to her.”

“But once she finds out it’s me, she’s gonna blow her top.”

“No, she’s not. She won’t. I promise.” He finds that hard to believe. He wants to believe her. She seems so earnest. But Ashton knows that older people are set in their ways. He finishes filling her tank, taking the change from her fingers. “Hey, hey,” she urges, gripping his chin. “She’s gonna love you. Because you’re incredible and she just hasn’t seen that. All she’s seen is the leather jacket, the hair. She’s only heart stories. But she’s never sat down with the real you.”

“Most people don’t need to sit down with the real me to judge me.”

“She’s gonna love you.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“I can.” It hurts to see him pull his chin from her grasps. It’s not hard, not a jerk, just a soft turn to his head until her fingers fall from around his skin.

“How?”

“Because she don’t know you like I do. She’s gonna love you because I love you.”

His heart beats against his ribs. They’ve been seeing each other, including tucked into dark corners, for only a few months. But to say that she loves him, that’s a whole new thing. “You love me?” The question exhales from his lungs so softly she barely catches it.

With a nod, she grins. “Yeah, yeah I think I do. I know it’s only a few months, but call me young and dumb--,”

Ashton interrupts her with a kiss. “No, be young. Be dumb. We only get this shot once.” The words press against his lips. He should take his own advice. “I love you.”

Lip tucked between her teeth, she looks to the ground before glancing back into his hazel eyes. “So, my house. Saturday. 6:30?”

“Your house. Saturday. 6:30.”

________________

When Ashton stares up at the door, he swears for a hot second he might vomit. He tries to keep it down. These are his good penny loafers. He’d hate to ruin them. But there is just something in his gut that tells him that this dinner is a bad idea. It takes him another minutes to finally lift his hand to knock. There’s a moment before the door cracks open and Sandra is standing there, in a powder pink sleeveless dress, hair pulled back from her face.

“Oh is that him, dear?” Her grandmother calls, the voice far away.

It takes everything in Ashton to step through the threshold. When she finally rounds the corner, her smile falters. There it is. There’s the passing look of judgement clouding her face. “Hi, ma’am. How are you?” He asks, extending his hand.

She doesn’t reach for it. “Good, thank you.” Her gaze lands on Sandra. “Sandy, can I speak with you? In private?”

The two woman walk down the hallway and Ashton stands, right near the door. He could bolt. He could leave it behind. But he stands there, knowing the hushed whispers being exchanged are about him, are about her and him together. The voices get a little louder. He caught “not good” amongst the hurried murmurs. He knows he shouldn’t interject. It’s not his place. He steps through the living room. They’re huddled together.

“Ma’am, I don’t mean to be rude,” he starts. “But I care deeply about your granddaughter. I know the reputation that I have. And I earned it. I won’t lie.”

“You say that like I should give you a shot,” her grandmother snips.

He shrugs. “I’d like one. I’m not the type to make excuses for myself.”

“I know about boys like you. You’re scared and you’re angry. And you take it out on anyone that looks at you the wrong way. You hang out with all those other boys too, all they do is drink and get into fights. Even the girls they associate with get into trouble too. You’re kind are no good.”

“Yeah, yeah maybe I am scared and maybe I am angry. Yeah, I’m a lowlife in your eyes. But I’m the lowlife that carried your groceries to your car for a year. And I’m the lowlife that that keeps the tank full even if Sandra can’t afford it at the time. I’m greasy and not the goody two shoes you’d want for her. Yeah I’ve been in my fair share of fights and yeah I’ve put some people in serious hurt. But I’m not so bad. I’ve been you, okay? I’ve been on the other side of this conversation where you’re so worried about what others are going to think. And all you can see is the trouble I’ve been in.”

He continues after wiping at his nose with the pad of his thumb. He’s riled up. He feels like an ass. Is this how Cookie felt? He can’t change that. He does right by her. He gets her now. “I know the bad I’ve done. But I know the good too. You think me heartless. I wish I was heartless. I wish I didn’t give a shit so much about so many things. Took a friend in because his parents abandoned him. I was barely scraping by for myself, but I took him in. He needed to finish school. I didn’t. I dropped out. Had to. But him, he’s smart. He deserved a second chance. And his girl, she’s brilliant. I mean, the mind on her- I wish she could go to college. But she can’t. Her heart’s too tied to her family. Oh, and she’s Black. So it’s not like anywhere is going to give her a second chance.

“And my friend, Mike, man’s a wizard at the guitar. I mean, that man is bad at the guitar. But he hates playing in front of a lot of people. He could’ve been gone. Luke, Luke’s got some pipes. But he won’t sing unless Michael plays and because Michael doesn’t play all that often, they’re both here. They got families they care deeply about. They got families that they gotta provide for. So you can think of us what you want. You can think us all bad. But you don’t know us. You think you know us. You only know what others have told you. I really don’t mean any disrespect, Ma’am. But I just want you to consider that. Consider people are more than what you know of them.”

He looks to Sandra, who’s wearing a smile on her face. This is the Ashton she knows. Not one to hold back his tongue, one to always fiercely protect the ones closest to him. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I’ll be staying for dinner.”

She watches the way he pops the collar on his polka dotted button up. She’s know sure where he got it. But it makes her immensely happy to know that he matched a dress of hers. His shoes are silent over the hardwood floors. Sandra turns back to her grandmother. “You always taught me to be kind to everyone, to keep in mind everyone has their own story. But you couldn’t even take your own advice.”

“I was kind,” her grandmother retorts.

Sandra shakes her head. “You know what I mean.” She hoped her grandmother would change, she thought she could get the opinion to change. But maybe her grandmother would destined to always be stuck.

“You can’t keep seeing that boy. He’s no good.”

The words mean nothing to Sandra. Her grandmother relies on her. She’s not a child. Holding on finger up to her grandmother, she races outside, finally hearing the car engine roar to life. The evening has a slight chill but it doesn’t stop her from racing to the driver side door. Ashton rolls down the window. It took him forever to even gain the courage to turn over the key in the ignition. She’s probably come out to tell him this is it.

“You didn’t have to come out to tell me. I know,” Ashton says, staring straight ahead.

“If you thought I came out here to tell you it’s over, you’re wrong.” Her voice is soft. She reaches through the window, playing at the collar of his shirt.

“What?” He’s positive he didn’t hear her right.

“She’s older. She doesn’t know you like I do.”

“But that’s your--,”

Sandra cuts him off. “I know who she is to me. But I’m an adult. I want to be with you. And she can’t stop me. Give me a minute, alright? We’ll go somewhere else.”

When her lips brush over his cheek, Ashton can only nod at her request. She walks back into the house. Her grandmother sits at the dining room table, hands clutching her cane. “You can’t keep seeing him. I forbid it.”

“Grandma, I love you. But since you refuse to sit down and have a conversation with him, I don’t think your advice is the most well informed. Now,” she starts fixing her grandmother a plate. “You’re gonna eat. I’ll be back to clean the dishes. But you just relax.”

“Where are you going? Not out with that boy, I know.”

“His name is Ashton. As I’ve told you before plenty of times.” The plates makes a soft thud on the placemat. “Eat. I’ll be back.” She puts the rest of the food up. Her grandmother watches, shouting at her that he’s no good. But no one’s perfect. And she if wanted perfection, she’d never find it. Maybe that was part of her grandmother’s problem. She craved perfection so bad, craved to fit in, to not shake the table that she never saw how unstable the table was in the first place.

“Enjoy your dinner!” Sandra shouts, throwing a sweater over her shoulders and grabbing her keys. Ashton is still waitin in the car. She climbs into the car. “Let��s drive,” she giggles.

“I got a destination in mind. Bit of a tradition. Hope it’s not too square.”

“You? A square? Never.” The drive isn’t very long. The skating rink comes into view and Ashton spies Calum’s bike still around. They still have a little bit of time. They have to go to the rink on the West side. Too many people stared at them, a group of white boys hanging around and friends with folks like Cookie and Calum. And it’s not to say they didn’t get looks on this side either. It’s not to say that Cookie’s unfortunately gotten into with a few of her own, but it’s generally safer. 

“When we’re not supposedly running a muck of the town, we’re skating,” Ashton says.

“How’d you know I was a great skater?”

“You might’ve mentioned it once or twice.” She’s mentioned it more than that actually. But it’s not like Ashton’s keeping count. It’s not like he goes home and gushes to Calum probably too much about Sandra.

The pair walk inside and grab some skates. It takes a moment of wondering before they spy the rest of Ashton’s friends. Cookie spots them first, smiling. “What happened to the red, Ms. Red?”

“Let him borrow it for the day,” Sandra returns, rushing over to help take the pitcher from her hands. The table cheers, noticing the pair.

“Thought you had a fancy dinner?” Michael questions as they settle and tie up their skates. Ashton shakes his head. Michael catches on to the sour expression. That topic is canned without hesitation. They all knew about Ash’s concerns. They’re not really shocked, if they’re honest, that things went sour. It sucks nonetheless. They had hoped for Ashton Sandra’s grandmother wouldn’t be such an issue. 

Ashton gets to his feet first and takes her hand. They step out onto the floor and she glides off. Ashton’s not a terrible skater, but he’s not the best either. She turns around and sees him pushing off hard. “Alright there, tough guy?”

He laughs. “Keep yappin’ that’s fine!”

As they come around a second time, the song shuffles. Everyone recognizes the start to Put Your Head on My Shoulder. People start pairing off. Ashton spies Calum and Cookie finally coming back out. Sandra slows into his side, fingers brushing over his. “You look as coordinated as a baby giraffe,” she teases.

“Keep talkin here, just keep on.” There’s a moment of quiet between them as the laughter dies down, gliding next to each other. A little slower than the rest of the crowd, but neither of them cares. “Sorry about being frosted back there. I just--people don’t understand. And sometimes they don’t want to. Which is frustrating.”

She nods. “I get that. I’m sorry she refuses to listen. I wish I could get through that thick skull sometimes. She means well, but sometimes she can do harm.”

Ashton stops along the wall, pulling her gently into him. “It happens. But you chose me. Over everything.”

She shrugs. “Easy choice, if I’m honest.” Ashton cups her face, fingers gently brushing over the soft skin. He’s lucky to have her. He’s lucky she chose him.

“Aren’t you worried?”

“I’ve got a lot of things to worry about. But not you.” Ashton leans in, just a smidge, lips capturing hers for a brief moment. His breath leaves him. He’s sure time is either paused or sped up but he doesn’t care. There are some wolf whistles that pass by. And both of them know it’s his friends. Sandra buries her face into Ashton’s shoulder, the heat flooding her cheeks.

“You guys are assholes,” Ashton laughs, watching Luke, Michael, and Calum pass by. The song fades out. Something more upbeat turns over the speakers. He coaxes her out from his shoulder. “Don’t mind them.”

“I mean, kind of hard not too.”

“But you got me, baby. You got me.”

Her eyes twinkle and she cups his cheek before kissing him. She does have him. That’s a comforting thought, one that makes her feel safe. As their lips part, Sandra exhales a bit breathy. “C’mon now before your knees knock and you fall.”

“You got jokes now,” Ashton hollers after her figure, skating away. “Now you got jokes. I see how it is.”

The evening is filled with too many orders of cheese fries to be healthy, too many refills for Cokes. They sing along to the speakers and Sandra laughs, hooking her arm through Ashton’s. “You didn’t tell me you could sing.”

His smile is bashful, face turning red. “You ain’t ask before.”

“The four of you ought to start a band or something,” she concludes. She’s heard the stories of Michael’s historic guitar playing. Stayed over at night, once, to listen to the four of them act a fool, singing until the wee hours of the morning. 

“Good luck with that,” Cookie interjects. “All of ‘em hardheaded. Mine especially.”

“But you love it anyway, doll,” Calum returns, kissing her temple. 

The group decides as the twilight is swallowed up by night to turn in. Outside, they split off in various directions towards their cars. “Make sure you get your red back,” Cookie hollers, trailing behind Calum. “You look betta in it anyways!”

The group howls at the comment. “Nah, baby, it’s a team effort.”

In a flash, Cookie runs up, laughing, leaving Calum to wait at the bike. “I know that’s right. Good seeing you again,” she adds on sincerely. “I mean it, too.” Since the race, Sandra’s tried to talk to Cookie more, tried to ease the tension that inevitably may not disappear completely. But they can try. “Mrs and Mr. Red,” she laughs with a wink. 

“See how she put Mrs, first,” Sandra grins. 

Ashton nods. “Yes, yes, I most definitely did.”

Ashton pulls into her driveway, staring back at the same doors that shut him out. It’s okay. That door need not ope, he concludes. Sandra stretches across to give him one last kiss. It deepens when Ashton takes hold of her face. It’s not a kiss that conveys the passion that’s brewing in the both of them. It’s not a kiss that’s light and airy. It’s a kiss that spells how desperate they are for the other to know, deep down, this is real.

As they part, Ashton pulls off one of the main rings he wears and plucks the necklace off from around her neck. Threading the chunky gold metal onto the dainty chain, he rehooks the necklace around her neck. Sandra drops her hair around her shoulders to take a look at it sitting over the powder pink to her dress. “Something to remember me by,” he explains, from his wrist, she can see the hair tie still. How did she miss that?

“I could never forget.” 

She climbs out of the car and he watches to make sure she gets inside. As the door closes behind her, she grins to herself. Making choices is scary. She knows her grandmother will not be quiet about her stance. But this is the first choice that was solely hers to make. And she’s proud of it.

[bnha-mcu-requests]

Request #5

Okay so I have a story idea that I cant find so if youd like to could you maybe write it? The idea is bakugou and kirishima get together and all the others in the dorm think that its probably a toxic relationship based on how bakugous personality is, so they confront one of the two, and bakugou is rlly hurt by it aaaand that's all I got

 I love this request and I am so sorry it so long to respond to it but here it is!

The room was dark. Not an oppressive or frightening dark, but one that promises comfort, warmth and a good nights rest. 

Perhaps Kirishima was being biased but with Bakugou nestled under his chin, strong arms thrown haphazardly over his chest, he would say he was entitled to his bliss. It had been awkward at first, Bakugou angrily confessing his feelings during a training session before attempting to run away under the guise of storming off. Kirishima had acted on instinct pulling him back into an admittedly sloppy and inexperienced kiss but, he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

The rest of 1-A had yet to find out and both were content with this, neither really understanding the need to make a massive deal about burgeoning relationships. Besides, they were happy together and that’s all that really mattered. Privately, Bakugou worried about the responses they would receive, his less than pleasant demeanor was not exactly the poster for a healthy relationship. But whenever he voiced these insecurities with Kirishima, he was pulled into a tight hug where whispered responses and assurances of love tickled his ears.

Truly, they were made for each other, and while both knew it, neither broached the subject, embarrassed by the sappy confession.

Kirishima was snapped out of his musings by a groan and movement as Bakugou pulled himself away from the bed to stretch, arms reaching towards the ceiling, and, weak to the wiles of the blond, he didn’t deny himself a glance at the toned abs that peaked out from the bottom of his loose tank top.

Crimson met vermillion and an uncharacteristically soft smile graced Bakugou’s face as he admired his bedmate. 

“How long was I out Ei?” he asked, gravelly voice sending shiver up Kirishima’s spine. 

“About three hours. The others are back from shopping now and it shouldn’t be too long until dinner is ready”

The blond’s nose scrunched up in distaste as he remembered who exactly was on cooking duty that night.

“Fucking half and half better not have made cold soba again I swear to god I’ll explode the bowl” small sparks popped in his hands emphasizing the disgust and Kirishima could only watch on fondly as his boyfriend - his boyfriend holy shit he was dating Katsuki - grumbled while moving around the room looking for his hoodie that the redhead new for a fact was strewn over his desk chair. 

Kirishima let out a loud groan as he swung himself out of bed, sighing in relief at the loud pops that emerged from his spine, ignoring the concerned look Bakugou threw his way, before ambling over to his explosive partner and wrapping long arms around his torso. The boys were of a similar height however, Kirishima’s muscly form made him seem bigger than Bakugou who’s form was more like that of a swimmer’s. He nestled his nose into Bakugou’s nape breathing in the slightly sweet scent of nitroglycerin that followed the blond around. He felt his face vibrate as other chuckled and pulled away.

“C’mon Kat I just wanna hu-” he was cut off by soft lips pressed to his in a chaste but meaningful kiss.

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

Dinner was a rather uneventful occasion, ignoring the yelling at the discovery that they were, once again, having cold soba and the students of 1-A settled down into the common room for Saturday night games. 

Everyone got involved in the game night, even Bakugou and Iida who under normal circumstances would have retreated to bed at 8 and 9 respectively. It was a good bonding time, or so Mina had declared when she first announced the idea. That was almost a year ago now and at this point, everyone had just accepted it as part of the routine. Sometimes they would play cards, charades, video games, monopoly and other board games, but on occasions when the class was high energy, they would beg Aizawa to let them use the training grounds for a massive game of tag or manhunt.  Tonight it was Hagakure’s turn to pick a game and like the teenage girl she was, she chose truth or dare.

Immediately people went around the room giving boundaries as they all knew there were some subjects that shouldn’t be disturbed in such an open environment as game night. Todoroki refused to talk about his scars, Shoji refused to take off his mask and Kouda would never be forced to talk if he didn’t want to.

Other than those boundaries it was pretty much a free for all, anything goes, nothing is off limits and as the night went on, the dares and truths got more and more personal or humiliating. Eventually, Kaminari worked up the nerve to ask Bakugou a question.

“Truth or Dare?” the boy asked, nervous sparks dancing across his cheeks causing Sero to move away slightly to avoid getting shocked.

“Truth” Bakugou grunted from his position on the sofa, arm thrown casually over the back of the chair so he could discretely stroke the back of Kirishima’s head.

“Um- are... are you and ....”

“For fucks sake Pikachu just ask the question” Bakugou snapped, startling a squeak from the other boy.

“Are-” “ARE YOU AND KIRI IN A RELATIONHIP?!” burst in Mina who had grown tired of waiting. The room went silent and all eyes shot to the two boys sat on the sofa, warily trying to assess the threat levels from the explosive blond.

“Yes” a collective cloud of confusion shrouded the room, some relieved that the boy hadn’t exploded while those who were braver began to ponder the nature of such a relationship.

Sensing the change in the atmosphere and feeling uncomfortable, Bakugou stood up, excusing himself to the bathroom. It was only seconds later that Midoriya got up to follow him but when Kirishima also made to stand up, he was stopped by a hand gripping his elbow.

He looked down into the doe eyes of Uraraka. She looked worried.

“Are you okay Kirishima? Bakugou isn’t forcing you to say that is he?” Shock stunned the redhead silent, he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. He sat down, surprise stealing the strength from his limbs.

“What?” he breathed out, voice barely louder than an whisper.

“Well, Bakugou is quite a violent individual, I can’t imagine that he would be the nicest of partners” Momo voiced from where she was sat in front of Jirou who was braiding her hair. Despite the eloquent flow of her speech, she looked distinctly uncomfortable, throwing subtle glances towards a stoic Todoroki - something that Kiri noted to look into later.

“He’s not hitting you....is he?” Uraraka once again asked, usually bubbly voice heavy with concern. 

Before he could respond, he heard the door to the common room open and Midoriya and Bakugou walked back in, Midoriya wearing a small smile and Bakugou appearing much more relaxed than he had when he left.

That was shattered when Iida sped towards him, hand slicing up and down much too close for comfort as he demanded to know if Bakugou had been hitting Kirishima.

“That is abuse Bakugou! I cannot believe you would allow yourself to stoop to that level! It is very unheroic” - Todoroki flinched - “You should be ashamed of treating someone you should love in this manner!”

Shocked, confused and a little hurt Bakugou stepped back, eyes darting around the room before he made contact with Kirishima.

“Ei-” he began before he was cut off by an angry Mina stepping in the way, blocking his view.

The blond turned his head towards Deku who looked just as confused as he felt and was trying to calm the still yelling Iida down. Under the weight of hateful glares and crushing betrayal, Bakugou was paralyzed - ‘Is this how Deku felt?’ flickered into mind before being chased away. 

Unable to do anything, unable to breathe, to talk, to defend himself, Bakugou turned and walked out of the room, deaf to the demands that he come back and blind to the worried look and approach of his boyfriend who was held back by Sero and Ojiro. 

He continued to walk, numb and silent until he found himself in his room. He locked the door and turned off the light.

This dark was cold and oppressive reminding him of the harsh accusations he had just heard. It wrapped around him in a suffocating mimicry of a hug, cruel words whispering telling him that they weren’t wrong, he was terrible. He did horrible things and he didn’t deserve Eiji- Kirishima.

Sinking to his knees at the foot of his bed, Bakugou Katsuki began to cry, his hiccupping sobs swallowed by the night, going unheard by the angry masses downstairs. He couldn’t hear the defences that Midoriya and Kirishima put in place, he couldn’t see the guilt in his accusers’ eyes when they realised what they had done, and he didn’t feel the warm arms that picked him up from where he had curled into a ball and that laid him into the bed. But through shuddering sobs, he could smell the cologne he bought Kirishima for his last birthday and he allowed himself to relax into the warmth of his boyfriend's chest, finally falling into a fitful sleep.

 There we have it. I know that toxic relationships can cover a wide range of aspects however, given the way Bakugou’s personality is portrayed in the manga and the anime, I believe this is the form that would most fit should the relationship be a toxic one.

My exams are finally over so I have more time to write requests and a post containing the rules for the requests (since I realised I didn’t cover those) will be coming out shortly. In the meantime, send me your requests, they really help to get the creative juices flowing!

[aesthyuckic]

AVENOIR | l.dh - NOVEM

Genre: High School AU (at beginning) ; Tarot Reader!Witch!Hyuck

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: (will bold if in use) slow but with a purpose, belief contradictions, mentions of r*pe, blood, swearing, violence, mentions of abuse

Pairings: Lee Donghyuck (Haechan) x Reader (F)

V OF WANDS: competition, conflict, rivalry

Donghyuck couldn’t seem to let go of the pendant that had very well found a home in his hand. Cosimia was in the back, too fast asleep and missing the goofy smile that resides on his face as he continued to hold it. It was strange to say, but it made him feel so special. She did make it for him after all, how could he not? Unfortunately, it probably didn’t mean as much to her.

He sighed and looked down the hall from his seat on the counter. He clearly saw her sprawled out on the bed, distant snores leaving her lips as the moon from the window lit up her skin in the dark. It made him smile slightly to himself once again. His stare moved to the counter, the amethyst remained in half beside him. Some purple dust left on the red surface that glittered slightly depending on his movement.

He cleaned it up a bit with the use of the neighbor’s broom and dustpan, only to realize he had no where to put it in the empty trailer. He left the dust pan on the counter with the broken amethyst. He figured he’d give it back to them tomorrow morning as he went back to sitting on the counter. He look at the carpet, only two bags remained in the space, filled with what they bought at the thrift store. If they knew they were going to get a trailer they may have gotten a little furniture to make the place feel more like home.

He stayed up for a little while Cosimia slept, too afraid to go lay down beside her. Mostly because he had no idea the things he felt around her as well as her only recently getting use to sleeping in the same place as he did. He didn’t want to push something she was uncomfortable with. Though he found himself sneaking into the room, quietly to find the backpack full of their things they had brought from what they use to call their home.

He grabbed the tarot cards she had given to him before sneaking out to their presumed living room. He sat in the middle of the carpet laid out with the box in front of him. He still wasn’t very good at reading them and relied on the small booklet whenever he forgot things, which was often. It didn’t do harm to practice and at this point, he didn’t see anything that could possibly answer the question he found impossible for himself.

What do I feel towards Cosimia, truly? He asked himself, or rather to the cards in his head.

Truthfully, he didn’t know all the different types of spreads and placements of them either so he just settled for one card. He picked one out of deck after dumping them out of the box and moving them around a bit. When he had the one card, he moved all the other aside and laid that one in front of him. He looked at the back of it for some time, afraid of what it would be. He finally flipped it over to reveal The Lovers.

His breath hitched in his throat as he stared at the golden drawing of the man and women who stood next to each other. The card was blunt towards him with the answer. It confirmed his suspicions as well which left him saying. He just stared at the card in his hand, unable to move or breath even. He denied it, saying the cards weren’t real once again. They couldn’t tell him anything, much less his feelings...

He had never quite felt anything the way he did when it came to her... He’d never liked anyone before and hated the fact it was happening now, at the worst possible time and with the worst possible person he could’ve chosen. He found it confusing, joyful and dreadful all at once.

He found himself acting differently around her since the beginning. His original line of thought to that being because she was able to see through him like glass and twist him around her finger because of it. That may have or may have not been the case at first but not anymore.

He still stared at the card in front of him. He remembered; it was just a card. It couldn’t possibly be able to tell him anything, let alone his feelings. He also remembered Cosimia saying the spirits picked the cards. The thought made him throw the card behind him. He was never much of a ghost believer. Even if spirits, ghosts or whatever were real, they would not have the capability to pick cards specifically for him.

He cleaned up the scattered cards on the floor, leaving the black and gold box on the counter as he went into the shared bedroom. He saw the girl curled up in a ball on the left side of bed. He found it unusual since she was fond of taking up the whole bed with her body in her sleep. He laid down next to her, leaving an obvious space in between the two of them. She faced him, unknowingly we she snored lightly.

It was cold, mostly because they had no blankets or even proper sheets yet. He looked at her, attentively as she slept unaware of his presence beside her. He didn’t even realize himself sweeping a few of the strands of her face to toss them over her shoulder until she stirred a bit in her sleep due to subtle touch. She looked peaceful and unbothered and he realized how pretty he found her. Asleep and awake. An innocent, vulnerable soul when rested but with a wise, alluring charm when awaken... He smiled, sleepily to himself before he fell with that thought while facing her.

When he woke up the next morning, he was in the same position he fell asleep in. The only thing was Cosimia was gone, her side of bed was still warm though. In his half asleep state, he wondered out into the kitchen. He could see the girl talking with someone through the guck in his eyes, not hearing much of what she was saying. The door slammed shut soon after.

“Who was that?” She asked Donghyuck.

He was quick enough to look outside the window that resided above the sink. He caught the purple ombré of long hair walk away.

“Oh, everyone calls her Choerry apparently,” He yawned. “I borrowed her dust pan and broom last night, I guess she came to get it back.”

She just stared out the screen door with her arms cross, silently. He was too dazed to notice the blush on the girl’s cheeks and the leftover signs of nervousness...

On a different note, it didn’t take long for their trailer to be filled up the next few days after they got. Some of their co-workers just gave it or where thinking about throwing the furniture out. A few things they had even bought for themselves while they continued on the road throughout the part of the country that was dry and desert.

Donghyuck had gotten use to staying up late as well. The night was the only time it was cool enough to air out the trailer to let in fresh air. He found himself laying on the yellow, plaid couch with the door open and the screen door closed. He had put on a record which he was happy to buy for himself since there was no other way to listen to music otherwise. It played softly, in the effort to make sure it didn’t wake up his friend or the others that surround them.

The reason this became apart of this nightly rountine was because he found it hard to lay down next to her. Whenever he tried to do so, his heart was quick to start beating to the point that it burned. The only way he felt any relief was to get up and get away. He was adapted to barely getting any sleep because of it too.

He started at the ceiling of the trailer, finding the way the golden light casqued onto the ceiling quite pretty. Through the soft, loving music he could hear the crickets chirp outside the door. That particular night, he found himself more exhausted than usual and fell asleep on the couch.

He woke in the morning with sun in his face, the trailer warmer than he left it last night. He judged by the stuffiness that it was ten or around that time. He was suppose to be up well over two hours ago to set the tents and booths with Cosimia like he did every morning. He sat up, quickly, rubbing his eyes while confused. Why hadn’t she woken him up? The carnival started in an hour.

Suddenly, he heard an engine rev. It was loud enough that he could feel a faint vibration of it below his feet. If he wasn’t awake then, he sure was now. He got up and rushed out the door as soon as he felt and heard the second rev of the engine. He looked down the row of trailers he was in to where it felt like it came from. Clearly, he saw someone at the end on a bright red motorcycle, dressed in all leather as well.

He couldn’t see their face due to their helmet which had cover everything. There was one more rev before they went speeding down the row at what seemed like a hundred miles per hour. The dirt and dead grass coming up from underneath the tires as the ground continued to shake. He was relieved to see them stop at the end. They even kicked the metal bar down so they could turn off the bike. The person even took off their helmet who was a boy around Donghyuck’s age.

He noticed the boy also had gray hair, only darker. For some reason, it angered him on top of the fact that the other was very pretty. He was about to start yelling at the stranger before he saw Cosimia come out of nowhere and walk up to the guy. His expression dropped at the sight as well as everything else within him. He couldn’t make out the words that came out of her mouth. It didn’t matter much though. Actions always spoke louder than words. He could see a sparkle in her eye when she looked at him, her smile seemed bigger and more genuine when she talked to him too.

He felt a noticeable heaviness in his chest that made it hard for him to breath in the most hurtful of ways. He hated it so much... Perhaps it was a good thing he was too out of it to notice that Cosimia looked at Choerry the same way the other day... Seeing her look at the other boy, she looked charmed. It made him upset, jealous rather but he didn’t want to admit that. Either way, he hated it. So much so he was unaware of the fact that he was angrily stomping over to them. It seemed to fuel the fire that she didn’t once look his way when he walked over.

He even had to fake a cough to get their attention. Their smiles dropped at the ruined momemt as they looked over to see who it was only to find a boy who looked very pissed off. The girl found it more cute than intimidating though and had to hold off her amused smile and laugh. The darker haired boy had a foot on her, much like Johnny, which meant he stood well over Donghyuck. The smaller boy just huffed to himself as he tried to stand his ground. He felt tiny though and his friend even looked tiny...

“Oh, Haechan,” Cosimia smiled. “You finally woke up!”

“Who’s the off brand ken doll?” He asked, sharply and with no filter whatsoever.

“Haechan!” She hissed. “This is Lucas! He helped me set up this morning...”

For some reason, that really just made his blood boil more.

[fauzhee10069]

Caato’s Stand and its mechanism so far (Jojolion)

Caato’s Stand, which until now has not been named yet, often becomes the object of hype in its ability and discussion in its name. I’m also interested to discuss both, but maybe I will focus more on its ability.

As her character is heavily a reference of French playing cards, Caato uses her playing cards as medium for her Stand ability.

Caato can store objects between her cards, making them appear or disappear like a magic trick. The first object we saw when she demonstrated her Stand for the first time was a cellphone. The phone is smaller in width and length, making the cards able to fully conceal it.

The second time we saw her Stand, she tricked Joshu to tidy up her cards, indirectly hurting him by the impact of the chair she stored into her cards when he took the cards that were stacked. With this second demonstration, we can sort the mechanism of her Stand:

She can store objects between her cards, making them appear or disappear like a magic trick

Anyone can release the objects that were stored inside her cards

She can store the objects with size much larger than her cards

Another interesting thing here is that the chair came out of two separate cards, it makes me wonder of the possibility that she could separate parts of an object and release them separately. There are also two things that I see as another mechanism of her Stand, though it’s still hypothetically speaking as the scenes were just mainly implication:

How she hid the chair between her cards? Did she slam the chair between her cards? If so, why no one noticed her while doing it (taking out two decks of her cards and putting the chair between them)? Two people might not had noticed that moment: Daiya (due to poor eyesight) and Joshu (being too distracted), why did none of the rest of the family notice that? Which led to two assumptions:

Caato does not need to take out (use) the cards to hide objects, she simply needs to will it

She does need to take out the cards, it’s just the family being too oblivious to notice that

Or some of them might actually noticed that but kept silent because Joshu definitely deserved that (LOL), the scene was focused on him afterall. Anyway, I’m more into the later, this reunion scene with her is not to be taken too seriously (in gauging the actual power as it is not a serious Stand battle).

In addition, a crucial thing that is easily overlooked in Caato’s words: “there certainly are a lot of chairs in this house, so you wouldn’t notice if I hid one between my cards, would you?”

Considering the hype from her supporters who frequently compare her Stand with D4C because their "dimensional-based" ability and "caught-in-between" mechanism?

「D4C」 has access to different parallel worlds/dimensions, it can also pull other people or items to other dimensions.

But in the case of Caato’s Stand and her words: she took out a chair from her cards, a chair that belongs to Higashikata's house, which is in the same world as her and the family. In other words, Caato’s Stand does not cross between dimensions in its mechanism, therefore the hype that her Stand has the same ability and power as the 「D4C」 has not been proven!

Notice how the warden took Caato’s cards, the decks were slightly open but nothing came out from them, but a few panels afterwards we see Caato took out her cellphone from the cards. Why didn’t the warden accidentally brought out the phone? It’s either:

Only Stand users (like Joshu) who can release the objects stored there besides the user (Caato)

Caato can control the timing of the stored objects to be released (and anyone who can release it)

I’ll pick the later too. However, there is also the possibility of luck as the decks, that were slightly open, were not storing her phone atm.

Now, regarding the hype she gets, many readers compare her Stand with Valentine’s D4C for being dimension-theme, though currently Caato’s Stand is still paled in comparison with D4C. Let’s see how D4C is capable of:

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap (D4C)

SBR chapter 75: D4C – part 8

Take a note that the info explicitly said that D4C can send both living being and inanimate objects into another dimension, therefore it’s not limited to person.

Valentine sent away a man into another dimension, the caught in between two objects part is what makes the readers comparing this with Caato’s Stand. This comparison also conceived the idea of Caato being the part 8 main villain. The time-based theme that incidentally became the pattern of main villains’ Stands in Ireneverse (part 1-6) causing the readers to think that the reboot/SBR verse (part 7 onwards) will have the main villains with dimension-based Stands (in which this is still unconfirmed and purely assumption).

But if you consider the ability-based as the pattern, you should consider the form-based as the pattern as well. What kind of Stand the main villains always have so far? It’s always the humanoid-type. I don’t think Caato’s Stand is a humanoid-type, it looks more like a tool or bound-type.

After that, we saw that Valentine can also send intangible/non-physical objects such as Stand attack (Johnny’s Tusk) to another dimension, besides physical objects. Actually, he was unable to do that in Johnny’s case as Johnny’s Tusk Act 3 can also move through dimensions, but he did try it, meaning that under normal circumstances (non-dimensional Stand attacks), he can do that.

What makes D4C different from Caato’s Stand?

D4C ability can only be done by Valentine alone

Valentine does not need a certain medium to use D4C, he can use D4C with any objects that are available to be slammed together (since his Stand manifests in humanoid form)

Unlike D4C, Caato’s words in chapter 58 implied that her Stand does not cross between dimensions in its mechanism

While people like to compare Caato’s Stand with D4C, I’d like to compare her Stand with Terunosuke's Enigma which I found more similar to.

Enigma

Enigma, in the form of folded paper, can store any objects inside it just like Caato’s Stand, however Terunosuke has to fold them inside the paper which kinda reminds me of Paper Moon King visually.

DIU chapter 142: Enigma Boy – part 4

He can also store the object that much bigger than the paper itself, when the biggest object Caato had stored so far is a chair, Terunosuke had stored a taxi car (including the driver, btw).

Just like Caato’s Stand, anyone can release the objects that were folded inside the paper. Not only that, it can also store intangible object such fire and electric currents there.

And a living object such animal (scorpion).

Enigma can also trap a living person in paper, however, Terunosuke must discover the habits the target displays when afraid.

DIU chapter 141: Enigma Boy – part 3

He can also transform himself into a paper, by bringing a gun, he can surprise the target who opens the fold and harm them.

Damaging the piece of paper results in an equivalent damage on said object or person inside it.

What makes Caato’s Stand similar to Enigma?

Storing the objects inside medium (playing cards & paper)

Both can store the objects with size much larger than the medium

Anyone besides the users is able to release the objects from the medium

Even so, I'm a little confused, about the difference between the two. Does Terunosuke keeps some papers as medium or transform the object/target into a paper (which is then folded)?

I think it’s more the later, he did transform Tomoko into a paper rather than engulfed and folded her inside a paper, whereas in Caato’s case, she likely brings her playing cards as tool for her Stand ability.

We have seen very little of Caato’s Stand, thus, it raises quite a number of questions regarding its full capability:

Can she store living object?

My guess is she can. It’ll be cool if we see her trapping someone with dangerous animals such as killer bees, snakes or scorpions, though I’m not sure if she can store a human being.

JJL chapter 107: Kaato Higashikata's "Attack"

UPDATE! Eventually, the new chapter of 107 has shown that Caato is capable to conceal her grandson Tsurugi. Then it can be concluded that she can hide living object between her playing cards (though I think) as long as her playing cards perfectly stack.

Can she store intangible objects as well?

I think it is possible, I can imagine her working together with Jobin in a Stand fight (if he survives in the next chapter). It’ll be cool fight as well.

Is it only limited to her special designed playing cards?

Caato’s playing cards do have unique design, the back of her cards have the Higashikata fruit seller mark. I’m not really sure but I guess this can be limited to her special cards alone. Why would she keep these decks and use her Stand through them? Perhaps if the playing cards aren’t that unique, she can use her Stand ability through any playing cards, but let’s see it more in the future.

The exclusiveness of Caato’s playing cards as medium for her Stand kinda reminds me of Hot Pants’ Cream Starter.

Which can be used by anyone besides Hot Pants and still functions even though its user is already dead.

Does it have its own (humanoid-like) form?

I think it's possible, even every ability (non-power) based Stand such as Fun Fun Fun, Vitamin C, California King Bed, Walking Heart, Blue Hawaii etc have it. I hope it has a cool design. However, Tsurugi’s Stand Paper Moon King also hasn't shown its humanoid form yet, even though we have seen a lot of its abilities. 

However, Caato’s Stand seems to depend on her special designed playing cards which made it more like a tool/bound-type Stand and I haven’t seen any bound Stand that has its humanoid form. 

Perhaps, we will be really able to determine the type of Caato’s Stand if we have a chance to see its abilities further in a serious Stand battle.

UPDATE! The new chapter of 107 has shown that her Stand has its own (humanoid-like) form:

JJL chapter 107: Kaato Higashikata's "Attack"

At this point, it was most likely that all of the Higashikata family’s Stands have their humanoid form, bar Tsurugi… but I think that 「Paper Moon King」 will also have its humanoid form which it just hasn't revealed yet.

Next related post: The True Mechanism of Caato’s Stand, 「Space Trucking」

At the same time, the name of Caato’s Stand was finally revealed as 「Space Trucking」, it follows the ‘KING’ tradition just like every member of Higashikata family (including Mitsuba who joined the family through marriage).

Hence the speculation below that there will be the word "queen" in its name or that she is an exception due to her disowned status has become pointless LOL:

The Name of  Caato’s Stand

And last, about the name of Caato’s Stand, many readers (and JoJotubers) have talked about it. Some proposed names that appeal to me are:

Queen(s) of The Stone Age

Styx’s Queen of Spades

Queen’s The March of The Black Queen

David Bowie’s Queen Bitch

But why “Queen” instead of “King” (which becomes a trend in Stand naming among Higashikata family)? Perhaps because she is considered to be an outsider to the family as she disgraces the family’s reputation (for getting into prison) and divorced with the head of the family.

I am most interested in Queen of Spades just because I really like the album artwork “Pieces of Eight”. I think I’m gonna draw Caato in that album artwork style if this becomes her Stand’s name. A Caatofag also said that the lyrics are really complimentary to the lyrics Norisuke IV’s Stand, Metallica’s King Nothing, as if they are singing to each other.

Read also:

JoJolion Cardspiracy: Caato & Damokan group

Is Caato a Rock-Woman?

How does the hype of Caato turn really bad?

Edited:

Changed the spelling of 「Kaato」 into 「Caato」because it’s Caato, not Kaato.

[quinnybee-writes]

Title: Fire Meet Gasoline

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Rating: G

Words: 4387

Summary: Villain!Mic/Vigilante!Aizawa AU

If Shouta can pull off tonight’s apprehension without getting caught, it’ll be a crowning moment of glory in his career as a (vigilante) hero. The villain he’s tailing, however, has different plans for how the night should go.

On AO3

“All available surface units, we’re getting reports of possible 4632 activity near the industrial docks.”

Shouta’s ears perked up at the code that crackled out over the police signal. A “4632” was the newly-instated code for an elusive villain he, the police, and every other hero and sidekick in the city had been attempting to track down for months now; one that would prove a vindicating apprehension if he could manage to pull it off without getting himself caught in the process. Shouta pulled his hood up and cut a shortcut through the city’s network of alleyways toward the docks, keeping his headset tuned to the police dispatch frequency for any updates.

He wasn’t sure if it was the police or the villain himself who had coined the nickname “Mockingbird” but once the media caught wind of it, it was there to stay regardless. From what Shouta had been able to glean from press releases, public record, and no small amount of poking his nose where it wasn’t technically supposed to be, the guy was bigger than some small-time crook but was careful enough that his established record never got long enough to get him branded as a supervillain. When he was caught in the act it was typically in the process of trying to take care of troublesome competition, going after white-collar bottom-feeders and other mid-range villains rather than heroes or the civilian population. He favored singular combat but if he got surrounded he always seemed to have some new trick to open a hole in the ranks big enough for him to squeeze through. Then he would lay low for however many days or weeks it took for the media to get bored of blowing him out of proportion and then he was right back at it with some new stunt. Tonight marked the end of Mockingbird’s longest absence since Shouta had started following his exploits. It had been nearly a month since the last sighting of him, and the rumor had been that either he’d been booked in a different precinct under his civilian name or he was dead. Shouta hadn’t believed either possibility was likely; if someone had found a way to trap a villain as infamous as Mockingbird, especially if the police had done it without heroic assistance, it would have been shouted from the rooftops from the moment his identity was confirmed.

The skepticism had been well-founded, it seemed, as he followed the APB updates through the industrial side of town. The docks were filled with regimented lines of identical rectangular flat-roofed warehouses with lots of obstructed eyelines and high ceilings; just the kind of place someone with a sound-manipulation Quirk like Mockingbird would have a clear advantage. The police had already cordoned off the area closest to the road and sidewalk, trying to keep gawking and interference to a minimum without giving away what was going on. Shouta casually strolled by the edge of the blockade, trying to estimate how many officers had already arrived with a quick glance out of the corner of his eye. It wasn’t as many as they would probably need, but it was a big enough number that he was going to have to play this extremely carefully. When he was sure he’d walked far enough out of the way that no one was likely to see, Shouta climbed over the chainlink security fence that surrounded the warehouse complex. From what his radio was telling him Mockingbird had been sighted making his way through a specific row of warehouses on the far side of the docks, ducking into an upper window of one after climbing out of a skylight and jumping across the roof of another. Shouta crouch-ran from deep shadow to deep shadow, each fleeting moment in the hard blue-white of the LED security lights making his heart clench hard in his throat. He could do this, he reminded himself. He’d done the research, he knew his target, he’d trained himself up mentally and physically as much as he could bear. It might not have been right in anyone else’s mind but he at least knew this was his job to do.

Shouta heard a nearby door roll open and dropped down behind a pile of broken pallets. Through the cracked slats he could see a tall, thin figure sliding out through the slim gap that had opened up under the door and then closing it silently behind themself. He could hear police clearing the inside of the building, checking all the floors for the person that had just slipped out behind their backs. Mockingbird was leading them on a game of Follow The Leader, using police procedure to gain a bigger and bigger lead on his oblivious pursuers. Shouta wasn’t oblivious, however, and he was determined to keep Mockingbird in his sights now that he had him. As soon as he was sure the police were looking elsewhere Shouta left his hiding place and followed Mockingbird as he scampered into the next warehouse along. As he drew even with the building Shouta caught a glimpse of Mockingbird’s foot disappearing through a delivery window he had pried open and shimmied through. Mockingbird made a show of letting Shouta hear his retreating footsteps inside the building while conveniently forgetting to close the window behind him. Shouta frowned to himself, remembering the reports of Mockingbird purposefully thinning the herd so that he could pick people off one by one. The trap was obvious but ingenious, a “clumsy mistake” that left a blatant entry point that neither a cop nor a hero would be allowed to ignore. Shouta, however, was technically neither of those things.

Instead of taking the bait Shouta pressed himself against the wall of the warehouse and followed it around the corner until he came up on an employee-only entry door. The silent alarm on the doorframe was made slightly more silent by a quick snip of its power supply. Shouta knew that would start a ten-minute countdown between now and when the security company would call the police for a possible break-in, but he was hoping to have this wrapped up and in hand by then. He managed to jimmy open the spring lock on the door handle with an old credit card and the door popped open. Whatever the shipping company was paying their security staff to leave windows unlocked and doors with the deadbolts unbolted, it was way too much. Shouta closed and bolted the door behind himself and took a moment to get his bearings in the near-dark gloom. There was a few feet of glass and sheetrock between him and the warehouse proper that sectioned this area off as an employee entryway. Beyond that was a vast space full of shrink wrapped pallets of crates and tall metal shelving units full of cargo in various states of packaging. Shouta did his best to move silently across the entryway floor and out into the cargo area, sliding his feet over the concrete to avoid leaving footprints. The air in the main room had a heavy, low-clearance feeling to it despite the high rafters above him. Shouta stood still and waited for Mockingbird to make himself known among the various shadows and hiding places. He might have only had ten minutes to spare now, but with the police rapidly clearing the other warehouses around them Mockingbird would have a lot less than that.

“You’re quick, I’ll give you that.” The voice sounded like it came from directly behind him. Even though Shouta knew there was no way Mockingbird could have gotten the drop on him so quickly he only just resisted the urge to look away to check. Instead he narrowed his eyes into the darkness to catch any glimpse of movement. His Quirk wasn’t much help without a direct sighting but at least now he had confirmation that Mockingbird hadn’t gotten away just yet.

“I was kind of hoping I wouldn’t have to deal with people tonight, but it looks like that’s not going to happen, huh?” Mockingbird spoke with a languid, casual frustration in his tone that was more like someone who had to run to the store on their way home from work than a fleeing criminal. Shouta tried to follow the sound back to its source as it bounced from wall to wall faster than any human could move. So the sound manipulation was more than just volume, Shouta thought. The acoustics of the warehouse weren’t ideal but Mockingbird had enough control over his Quirk than he was able to make good use of what he had. Every footstep Mockingbird took sounded like it came from a hundred places on concrete and metal and wood all at the same time. Shouta took a deep breath to center himself. If he could just get a bead on Mockingbird it would be simple enough to even the playing field but it was impossible to do so from here with an army of obfuscating echoes kicking up new sounds all around him. He edged forward away from the wall, still careful to keep his own steps light and not leave a trail in the warehouse grit.

“Looks like your friends are finding a whole lot of nothing next door,” Mockingbird went on. “Too bad for them you’ve already grabbed the brass ring.”

If he could see the warehouse being cleared, Shouta thought, then he had to be somewhere higher than floor level now. There weren’t many windows in this place and the ones there were sat about ten feet off the ground. Shouta looked up, searching the top shelves of the storage racks. Every blink felt interminably long and the dry, dusty stillness made his eyes burn as he stared hard upwards. Finally he hit the mark: a dark human shape that sat perched on top of a cardboard crate on the top of one of the taller shelving units. Shouta allowed himself a small satisfied smirk as he tried to plan a way to get up there. Mockingbird would have the higher ground to get the drop on him if Shouta tried to just follow his path up. There was a three-foot gap between the nearest shelving unit and the one where Mockingbird perched watching his chaos play out, but if Shouta could time his jump and erasure well enough together he had a good chance at gaining the upper hand.

“You almost feel bad for them at this point,” Mockingbird said, a note of faux remorse in his surround-sound voice. Shouta wedged his feet into the side of the shelves, hefting himself hand-over-hand up to the top. He paused for a moment to get his balance. The units were bolted into the concrete floor below but they still felt uncomfortably spindly under weight that wasn’t stationary.

“Well, you might not, I guess. As long as you get the credit for the catch you probably don’t care much if you make them look like fools by blazing on you own way without them, do you?” Mockingbird mused, his head tilted idly to one side in thought. “And they’ll never call you on it, I know that for sure. You’ll get your fun little celebration and a medal and Nakamura will stand up in front of a crowd trying to resist the urge to garrote you with it while he gives a speech on your behalf.” He gave a short, almost bitter chuckle at the mental image.

Shouta had to crouch down and breathe hard with his head between his knees to regain his equilibrium. The closer he got to the epicenter of the sound the faster it seemed to change direction around him. The rapid-fire changes made the already-unstable shelving feel like it was trying to buck him off as he inched closer and closer to the edge.

“‘Today we honor a brave and valiant resource within our community and within the profession of peace-keeping. Truly, without the hard work of dedicated heroes and sidekicks such as you we would be at a clear disadvantage in the modern social climate and city structure.’”

Mockingbird’s posture straightened and stiffened as he spoke in an unnervingly pitch-perfect imitation of Police Chief Nakamura’s pompous-but-expressionless public speaking voice. It seemed like he couldn’t trigger the disorienting effect and do the impression at the same time, however; almost as soon as he began speaking Shouta’s head cleared and the creeping nausea knocking him off balance dissipated. Seizing the opportunity, Shouta broke into a run toward the edge of the shelves. Just as Mockingbird slumped back into his sardonic posture Shouta took the moment of silence to activate his own Quirk. The petulant, eye-rolling sigh Mockingbird let out echoed small and quiet around the building’s walls. He jolted to attention, one hand clapped to his throat as he looked around for a cause. Shouta sprang across the gap at that moment, one hand reaching into the hidden pocket in his waistband for his homemade bolas. Mockingbird let out a sharp yelp as he saw Shouta and half-scrambled, half-fell off of the crate. He tried to scurry down the shelves to get away but Shouta followed at his heels, eyes focused and unblinking. Shouta spun the bolas in one hand as he ran, building up speed until the weights on the ends began to sing through the air before letting it go with a snap of his wrist. He knew by the way Mockingbird went suddenly stiff and staggered half a step before keeling over forward that his aim had been true. Careful to not take his eyes off of Mockingbird’s prone, struggling form, Shouta slowed to approach with caution. The bolas had hit a little lower than he had intended, pinning Mockingbird’s forearms bent against his sides, but the nylon rope held fast even with his wild squirming.

“Holy shit you’re fast!” Mockingbird was laughing breathlessly as Shouta reached down and pulled him into a sitting position by the collar of his jacket. He could see now that the jacket’s sleeves were fringed by offset rows of tooled leather feathers and the black half-mask poking out of the hood of the sweatshirt Mockingbird wore underneath had a short, sharp beak. If he hadn’t been such a thorn in so many sides Shouta almost could have given Mockingbird credit for adhering so closely to his gimmick.

“So what do they call you, fast boy?” Mockingbird asked, grinning with a galling amount of disaffected casualness up at him.

Shouta ignored him, mind already turning to how he was going to move forward. There wasn’t much time left until the police would be investigating the open delivery window and making their way inside, which was good, but the last thing he needed right now was to have the best capture of his career marred by getting taken into custody right next to Mockingbird. On the other hand, abandoning Mockingbird to his own devices in the time between now and the arrival of the authorities didn’t hold much of a shine either; there was no way that Mockingbird would just sit tight and wait to be hauled away while Shouta ducked out of sight. He wished he’d thought to bring more loose cord, or at the very least something he could use to make Mockingbird stop prattling.

“Not one for introductions? Color me impressed. Usually you hero types like to announce your name far and wide to anyone who will listen if it means a shiny new brand deal in your future,” Mockingbird said with faux deference. Shouta snorted in spite of himself, only half-listening. Mockingbird paused, head cocked to one side and the corner of his mouth curling into a crooked grin. “C’mon,” he said wheedlingly. “He’s quick, he’s smart, he’s got a killer Quirk. There’s got to be a name to complete the picture.”

“Not one you need to know,” Shouta replied coolly. He regretted it instantly as Mockingbird perked up.

“He speaks! Well, well. I can see why they keep you around, at any rate. Most of the heroes I come across don’t have enough imagination to fill a thimble, I would have gotten them with the old window trick,” Mockingbird said. “You, on the other hand, seem to have thought of everything. Well,” he amended, mouth twisting in a considering moue. There was a decisive shnk sound from behind him and he held up the cut end of Shouta’s bolas in one hand and a small silver ring with a blade concealed in it in the other. “Maybe not everything.”

Before Shouta could react, Mockingbird kicked out with both feet and disappeared behind a wall of dust. Shouta threw up an arm to protect himself but it didn’t do much to block the huge waft of grit that hit him in the face. He swore under his breath as he tried to wave it away and get sight of where Mockingbird had run to now. Without Shouta erasing his Quirk Mockingbird was back to making it sound like he was everywhere at once, footsteps and infuriating laughter coming at Shouta from all sides. Shouta paused between rows of shelves and closed his eyes, trying to work out Mockingbird’s position by sound. It would make sense for him to bounce the sound from every direction but the one he was actually trying to escape in and lead Shouta on a dozen wild goose chases. And despite the echoes of echoes of echoes, the one place the sound deadened rather than amplified was off to Shouta’s left and up a few rows. Shouta took off at a sprint, opting for speed over stealth at this point.

He regretted the choice as he turned the corner to where he thought the Mockingbird had gone. Before he had a chance to react an arm punched out into the air in front of him at chest height. Shouta ran full speed into it, catching the balled fist hard in the ribs and feeling it empty his lungs with a sickening snap. A second fist came at him from behind, slamming down hard on the base of his skull and dropping him to his knees. Mockingbird twisted his arm up behind him, just hard enough to hurt, and put his knee in the small of Shouta’s back to hold him down. Shouta writhed and struggled to free himself despite the flair of pain as he did so.

“Eh-eh-eh, hero, that’s gonna hurt you more than it’ll hurt me,” Mockingbird chided calmly. “I felt that rib snap, don’t act like you’re getting up to brawl any time soon. What kind of bargain-basement kit are they handing out these days that you don’t even have body armor? Is your agency just that broke? Or. Oh. Oh wait a second.” He broke off with a sharp bark of laughter as Shouta’s situation seemed to click in his head. “That’s very interesting.” Shouta gritted his teeth and tried again to throw Mockingbird off of himself but Mockingbird was right; too much moving set his chest on fire and made breathing even harder than it already was with someone sitting on him. “Sorry to disappoint, but I don’t really have time to wait around and see which one of us gets in more trouble for all this,” Mockingbird went on in a sarcastic mimicry of Shouta’s own voice. “The cops will be sad to know they missed me, but I think you’ll make a good consolation prize.”

With that he let go of Shouta’s wrist. A split second later both of his hands came down on either side of Shouta’s head in a hard thunderclap against his ears. Shouta couldn’t hold back the shout of pain that sounded thin and hollow compared to the shrill electric whine that had overtaken his hearing. Mockingbird stood up and took off at a sprint toward the door. Shouta struggled to stand, every motion sending his head spinning again. He hobbled out as quickly as he dared, reaching the kicked-open back entrance just as he heard the police breaching the front. True stealth seemed like an unreachable goal right now, so Shouta decided to just aim for not getting caught instead. The cold night air did wonders to clear his head despite the way it made his chest ache and by the time he reached the street again he could mostly walk upright again. It wasn’t hard to remind himself of the dangers of the job when everything had seemed so close to coming apart at the seams. He’d know better going forward, he told himself as he limped home. A difficult fight meant better intel, and better intel meant fewer surprises next time. It didn’t unbreak his rib or unbruise his pride but it was a softer place to land at least.

Shouta made it as far as his entryway floor before he let himself lay down with a low groan. As carefully as he could be around his injuries he kicked off his shoes and stripped off his jumpsuit. He’d just rest here for a moment, then he’d get back up and crash on his couch like a normal person, Shouta told himself, knowing full well he was probably lying even as he thought it.

A sharp, businesslike knock on his door shook Shouta awake. He opened his eyes to see that he was still spread-eagle in his entryway with the midmorning sun creeping in from behind his curtains. Shouta groaned as the knock came again. The disorienting ringing in his head from the night before had metamorphosized into a crackling migraine that repaid every motion with a hot spiderweb of pain across his skull. There was a sound like something heavy and soft being dropped outside his door and footsteps walking away as whoever it was got frustrated and left. Shouta sat up in slow stages, cradling his head with one hand and using the other to brace himself upright. Standing up involved a lot of clinging to the wall and very sternly telling himself not to be sick. At long last he managed to make it to the door and open it.

A large brown envelope had been left on his doormat. There was no return address on it and the only indication that it was meant for him was his apartment number scrawled across the front without a name or street number. Shouta arched an eyebrow, turning it over in his hands. The envelope wasn’t even sealed, and the flap popped open from where it had been tucked inside as he moved it. He shook out the contents, intrigued and filled with dread in equal measure.

A thick black stab-proof vest had been folded in half and crammed into the envelope. Shouta stared at it, blinking blankly. It felt hefty and sturdy in his hands and all of the places where official badges and branding tags should have been had been painstakingly picked away, leaving slightly darker patches behind. Stuck to the front was a yellow sticky note that read “Thank me later” in thin, loopy handwriting. It was signed with a scrawled double arch that could have been a flattened “M” or possibly a stylized bird.

Shouta felt a chill race up his spine. All pain momentarily forgotten, he dropped the envelope and vest and sprinted out into the hallway to the stairwell. He couldn’t hear anyone else making their way downstairs, but his building’s elevator had been broken for months so there was no other way they could have gone. He took the stairs two at a time, hoping he hadn’t wasted too much time getting up. He all but exploded out the building’s front door, head whipping from side to side as he looked at the people passing by on the sidewalk. No one seemed to be hurrying more than normal for this time of the morning, no one was frantically trying to act natural or make an escape through the crowd. Shouta gritted his teeth, cursing his response time. If he’d gotten himself up faster he could have at least known which way Mockingbird had gone.

As he desperately tried to gain back some of his lost ground Shouta caught sight of a tall, lanky man with a long blond ponytail and glasses idling at the nearby bus stop. The man was watching him out of the corner of his eye, one thin eyebrow raised. He gave Shouta a tight, awkward, “oh crap I just made eye contact with the person I was staring at” smile as their eyes met and quickly turned away like he hadn’t been looking. Shouta strode up to him, determined not to lose a potential witness to something as worthless as social decorum. The man grimaced and removed his headphones as Shouta approached. Shouta could hear bass-heavy EDM blaring out at an uncomfortable volume even from a few feet away.

“Er. Can I help you?” the man asked. He’d plastered on a smile again, seeming to not want to be rude.

“How long have you been standing here?” Shouta asked. The man blinked as if taken aback by the question.

“Five...ten minutes maybe? I missed the last bus, so however long since that,” he said, checking the time on his phone.

“Did you see anyone else come out of that building?” Shouta asked, pointing behind him. “They were probably walking pretty fast, like they were trying to get away quickly? I need to know which way they went.”

The man shook his head, eyebrow arched in bewilderment again. “No, sorry,” he said. “I mean, I wasn’t looking, I was trying to watch for my bus, but I don’t think so, no.” His smile turned a little less waxy and more concerned. “Are you okay, dude? You seem kind of…” He gestured vaguely, encompassing Shouta’s current mussed-hair-and-underclothes situation. “Stressed,” he finished. Shouta scowled, face heating.

“‘M fine,” he muttered. “Thanks anyway.”

“Sure thing,” the man shrugged. He took one last look at Shouta, shrugged again, and pulled his headphones back over his ears.

Shouta shuffled miserably back up to his apartment, his body reminding him in no uncertain terms exactly how battered he was. He called in to work, dry-swallowed four aspirin, and sank into the lumpy comfort of his pull-out couch to sleep it off.

[horansqueen]

AM Conversations : chapter 13

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4k. -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- IF YOU WANT TO BE NOTIFIED WHEN THIS IS UPDATED, I THOUGHT I COULD START A TAG LIST SO LET ME KNOW. IF YOU’D RATHER BE NOTICED IN PRIVATE, MESSAGE ME TOO PLEASE!

- there will be smut added soon, just thought i’d give a fair warning!

- i’m having a hard time finding 2015 Niall gifs so i may add 2016 gifs instead. if you want to propose me any PLEASE message me. youll make my day!

- thank you so much for all the asks i get. you guys make me so happy. i cant even explain. thank you forever. i love you!!!

-please, message me, give me feedbacks, it would mean sooo much to me!

Chapter 13 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

Harry was staring at me and I was staring right back. I could feel my heart beat hard against my rib cage but I was not really sure why. Clearly, he thought Niall and I had seen each other naked and although it was pretty true for me, it wasn't as obvious for him. I had caught Niall masturbating completely naked in bed when he was 13, but when Niall saw me, I was wearing a shirt and panties. We got changed in the same room quite often but I knew Niall and I knew he would never look at me without my consent, whether it was out of respect or simply because he was not interested.

Harry's lips curled slightly on the left as he kept his eyes on me and I did the same, looking away and leaning against the couch behind me. It was embarrassing to talk about it and I wanted to talk about something else. I turned to my best friend and had to swallow hard when my eyes landed on him. He had just admitted he had slept with Maya and after what I had confessed to him earlier, it made it even worse. Now I knew why he was trying to reassure me about my jealousy for her and it had worked quite well but now, everything was ruined. I had came to make myself believe that they hadn't done anything. Niall was a discreet person but the way he acted with Maya was so different than how he acted with Heidi and he never explicitly confessed to having sex with her. Perhaps I just didn't want it to be true and now it was hitting me right in the face.

"Sorry guys, but Louis and I have both seen 4 persons in the room naked too, why didn't we get votes?" Liam argued with a frown, obviously talking about his girlfriend who put her hand gently over his.

"Don't go there, Liam." Louis quickly replied, taking the cigarette that was waiting behind his ear and putting it between his lips. "It's a can of worms and no one wants to see that."

Everyone remained silent when he lighted it up and after a few seconds, Eleanor smiled and read a question outloud. I felt the tension in the room calm down suddenly and took my pencil again, ready to keep playing.

"Who's got a deep secret they never told anyone?"

I suddenly held my breath and my eyes got bigger for half a second. I felt extremely exposed for no reason and I closed my eyes, imagining all the eyes turned to me. It was paranoia, it had to be, because no one knew I had feelings for my best friend. No one knew I've always had feelings for him, and that I probably always would. Reluctantly, I opened my eyes again and noticed everyone was busy scribbling down a name and no one was giving me any unsolicited attention. I felt my body relax slightly and quickly grabbed my pen, scribbling the first name that came in my mind.

I waited impatiently for Niall to read all the answers outloud and stress came back when I heard my name. I didn't want to seem like it was true and I simply waited for Niall to be done.

"I don't know why anyone would write Harry." Niall laughed. "He walks around naked, no matter who's in the room, I don't think someone who does that can have any deep secret."

Harry grabbed the first thing he could reach and threw it at him but Niall simply laughed, moving his head right on time not to get Harry's pen in the face.

"Liv doesn't have any deep secret she's never told anyone, she tells me everything, right?"

I held my breath again as I stared at Niall. His eyebrows were raised, his lips were curled into a satisfied smile, and i felt guilt invade my whole body and making my head throb. Could he read in my face how embarrassed I was? My lips parted and I was about to answer when someone else talked.

"Everyone's got secrets." Louis pointed out, taking a sip of his beer. "I'm sure you keep stuff from her and she keeps stuff from you."

"So you keep stuff from your girlfriend, Tommo?" Niall argued, his gaze moving from me to his bandmate.

Louis laughed and rolled his eyes.

"She's not your girlfriend, Neil."

Silence fell in the room and I swallowed hard, trying to find a way to ease the tension. I had no idea why these kind of games always ended up in some sort of arguments but I didn't want to be part of it anymore. I was about to just get up and leave when Lottie groaned low.

"You're both so fucking annoying." she let out. "I think it's time to find a new game to play."

She dived her hand in her purse and bit her bottom lip as she searched for something. After a few seconds where my heart threatened to jump out of my chest, she pulled out cards and sent all of us a smile.

"It's a game I used to play at parties when I was younger." she explained, shaking the cards to put our attention on it. "Kiss And Tell. It's some sort of truth or dare game but the questions and the dare all have to do with kisses. And to avoid everyone to choose 'tell', we'll use a dice. 1,2 and 3 are kiss, and 4, 5 and 6 are tell."

She checked the cards and got off the couch to sit on the floor, putting the two stacks on the carpet. I noticed Harry had gotten up to find a dice and I suddenly realized how bad of an idea it was.

"Okay but maybe I'm not interested in making out with everyone here." I pointed out, staring at the big 'KISS' written on one of the piles.

"Kisses on the cheeks are fine," she chuckled. "but you're ruining the fun, Liv!"

I remembered that time when we were 15 and went to a stupid party. We had played spin the bottle and when it was Niall's turn, the bottle had pointed at me. I couldn't believe I was going to kiss my best friend, who was also the boy I was in love with, in front of everyone. I remember how close he was, how his eyes had roamed on my face, how I held my breath, how scared I was, and how he had apologized in a whisper right before to press his lips on mine. His 'I'm sorry' had haunted me for weeks. What did that even mean? Was he sorry that we had to kiss in front of people? Or that I had to be kissed by him? Or maybe he was just sorry he had to kiss me because he really didn't want to. We had never talked about it after that but now that there was an other chance I could kiss him, I knew I didn't want to go through that again. Would anyone notice if I got up and ran away?

"No way, I mean unless you're actually dating someone, there's no reason not to play! A kiss has never killed anyone!" Max let out, making me turn his way.

"Well, actually..."

"No, no stats darling, please." Niall cut me straight, his lips curling slightly to the right.

I raised my nose in a grimace and shrugged, glancing at the cards again. Lottie decided to start, just to show us how to play and had to kiss the person she trusted the most in the room. Without a surprised, she walked to her brother and kissed his cheek for a few seconds with an exaggerated 'muah!', making me laugh.

I watched as Gemma grabbed the dice and got a 2, picking up a 'kiss' card.

"Kiss the person you could have dated (outside of your significant other)."

Her eyes roamed on everyone and she sighed in a defeated manner. I could bet kissing her little brother's friends was not something she had ever thought about.

"I'm sorry but i've seen all of you pre-puberty and it's a complete turn off." she pointed out, getting up and walking to the other side of the living room. "Except you."

Max chuckled but got up too and I stared at them way too intensely. It's not that I didn't want to kiss anyone. In fact, I didn't really mind, but I didn't know how i'd react if I had to kiss Niall again. I honestly thought it would hurt me even more than it did the first time. The kiss lasted a bit too long and the way she gripped the side of his shirt made my heart jump. I couldn't stop thinking about that kiss I shared with Niall and how I was torn between hoping to do it again or to never do it again.

When I got out of my thoughts, I noticed Gemma was back on the couch while Max had taken place somewhere on the floor near his best friend.

"He didn't look that bad pre-puberty but he's better now, trust me." Eleanor let out, making Gemma chuckle a bit.

It took only a few seconds for Julie to breathe her courage in and grab the dice before grabbing a 'tell' card with a small relieved smile. I knew no one would have forced her to kiss someone else than her boyfriend but I could understand why it was stressing her. In fact, the amount of stress invading my body at that exactly moment was clearly too much to contain and I started playing with the sleeve of my sweatshirt.

"Tell us about your most memorable kiss." she read out loud, sending a glance at Liam.

They both smiled at each other and I bite my bottom lip, forgetting how nervous I was for a few seconds. The level of complicity they had reached had me quite jealous. It must be amazing to be able to get to that point with someone when that someone was your lover. I knew Niall and I were extremely close, probably as close as Julie and Liam were, but we were just friends, and I think that toned down the relationship a bit. Not because friendship was less important than love, of course not, but because when you're best friends and dating, there was only the two of you. That intimacy wouldn't have to be shared with a boyfriend or a girlfriend outside of your relationship. It was complete. It was full. I wanted to be complete with Niall.

I glanced at him, making my heart jump in my chest, before to focus on Julie's story. I would have expected her most memorable kiss to be their first but it ended up being that one time, when he was on tour and they hadn't seen each other in weeks. It was in the way Liam had looked at her, how her whole body had given in, how it felt like the first time again... It was about how much they had missed each other and how they realized they didn't want to be apart for that long again. The romantic in my sighed internally as I brought my hands in my sleeves, gripping my shirt with both hands from inside. I could have something great with Harry, I knew it, but would we ever be as close as I was with Niall? That was clearly impossible. Right?

I saw Niall grab a card and my heart seemed to stop but I relaxed when I realized it was in the 'tell' pile. I moved my knees up, my arms around them, and leaned my cheek on them to look at my best friend. He seemed surprised by the card in his hand but finally read it outloud.

"Tell us about your most awkward kiss."

When Niall turned to me and dived his gaze in mine, I held my breath. I didn't want him to talk about that kiss we shared over a decade ago but I knew it had came to his mind and somehow, it made me feel like shit. It really was awkward, but to me, it was weird because I had feelings for him. For Niall, it was probably awkward because he didn't have feelings for me. He didn't want to do it. After all, he had apologized before doing it.

"Oh god." he chuckled, rubbing his eyes slowly and extending his legs on the carpet. "One time I was hanging out with this girl I didn't like and she just misread some signals or I don't know, and she kissed me but she did it so quick her front teeth hit my upper lip and it started bleeding. I don't know if it can be considered a kiss but it was horrible."

Everyone laughed but I just kept staring at him. I already knew about this story. That girl was one of my friends and after that day, I stopped speaking to her. Now that I thought about it, it was wrong of me because after all, she had no one idea how I felt for Niall, no one knew, but I couldn't deal with it anyway. It was not her fault, it was mine.

"Okay, my turn." Harry let out, extending his body close to me to grab the dice and pick a 'tell' card.

I felt extremely lucky that both of them had gotten that instead of a 'kiss' card. I didn't want to kiss any of them at this moment, but I also didn't want to see them kiss anyone. I closed my eyes tight at that thought, realizing how much of a loser I was, before opening them again. Harry moved his gaze up to look at me and his lips curled slightly into a fond smile. I couldn't explain how much I enjoyed it when he looked at me that way.

"Tell us about your favorite kiss." he read, his eyes never leaving mine.

I didn't want to hear about it but at the same time, I was dying to find out what kind of kiss could be his favorite. Was it romantic like Julie and Liam's? Or was it in a heated and passionate moment? I ended up thinking that knowing Harry, it could be a first kiss when he was young with someone he really loved, or an intense kiss before making love. He could give any of these answers and I wouldn't be surprised.

"My favorite non-kiss involved jello." he started, still staring at me. "And I was so close to kiss her but her clumsy ass choked on it. She probably thinks she ruined it but it made me like her even more. There was also this non-kiss in the pool, where I kept thinking about her lips and the way they would feel. Or that non-kiss at the lake where we got cock-blocked."

During his whole monologue, I held my breath and everyone was focused on him. It was always that way with Harry, he always had everyone's attention because he was captivating. I didn't want to think about everyone else in the room, though, and I didn't have to. He was looking at me, and no one else.

"But my favorite kiss is the kiss i'll get when we finally kiss for the first time. So it hasn't happened yet, but i'm still hoping for it." he concluded before I exhaled suddenly, realizing I was out of breath.

I smiled at him, my lips parting slightly and my heart jumping so hard in my chest that I honestly thought everyone could hear it through the powerful silence filling the room. No one dared to talk and Harry smiled more, chuckling low before moving his chin a bit.

"Your turn, Liv."

It took me a lot of courage to roll the dice and I had to swallow hard when I saw the number 3. I knew my luck couldn't stay forever and I shook my head, picking a 'kiss' card. I didn't want to read it, I didn't want to kiss anyone with everyone watching, and it took me forever to read the card. It took a few seconds to process what I read and I held my breath, confused and stunned by the words on the card.

'kiss the person you love the most in the room.'

I didn't even have the guts to read it outloud and I just pressed my lips together and shook my head.

"No, sorry, I can't do that."

Quickly, I got back on my feet and ran to the bathroom, locking the door behind myself. I leaned against it, my head hitting gently the wood, and closed my eyes as I tried to calm the erratic beatings of my heart. I knew my reaction would bring a lot of questions but I didn't care. I just couldn't deal with that card.

I felt the card between my fingers and held it tighter, glad that I had brought it with me so no one could read it. I slipped it in the back pocket of my jeans and pressed the palms of my hands on my eyes, trying to get rid of the shame invading my whole body and mind.

Instinctively, I thought about Niall as soon as I saw the words but picking him would be admitting something I was not ready to admit and probably never would. I knew it could pass as strong and intense friendship but I didn't think everyone would be gullible enough to believe it. It was obvious to me that at least one person would find out about how I really felt, and I was scared that that person would be Harry.

How did I really feel about Harry? Was he only there, in my heart, to fill the space I wanted Niall to fill? Was he someone I could fall in love with? Or was I doomed to date people I would never really love simply because I couldn't seem to forget about how much I loved my best friend? Was that void I wanted Niall to fill going to be there forever? Was it possible for me to be satisfied with someone the way I knew i'd be with him?

My head said it was possible for me to be happy without him, but my heart screamed louder, telling me i'd always be missing something inside of me and I tended to listen to my heart in every circumstances.

I jumped in surprise when I heard a knock at the door and moved away from it. I was not ready to face anyone but i knew i'd have to, sooner or later, and perhaps it was better to do it now and get it over with.

"Babe?" I heard a low but high voice. "Please, let us in."

I recognized Eleanor's voice and the surprise was even bigger. We've always been on good terms but I wouldn't consider us close. Still, I had to admit I was touched by the fact that she was ready to be there for me and I unlocked the door, opening it slowly. The shock was even bigger when I saw Lottie, Gemma, Julie and Maya waiting with her. I stood there, motionless, my lips slightly parted, and El just raised her eyebrows.

"Can we come in?"

The bathroom was large but clearly not built for 6 girls and I sat on the edge of the bath tub while the others leaned on the walls, sat on the toilet or simply on the floor and I waited until someone would talk.

"Okay so I don't know what your card is, but clearly, you want to kiss Harry, right?"

"Uhm.."

What was I supposed to answer to that? No one knew how I felt for Niall, meaning that no one could help me with this confusion that was tearing me apart. All of them thought my reaction had everything to do with Harry when it was a lie, and I had to keep on lying.

"Oh what he said about the kiss?" Maya let out, moving her upper body in our direction as her lips curled into a naive but happy smile. "That was so great! It wasn't even for me and it made my heart melt!"

I knew she was thinking about Niall and I swallowed.

"Yea." Gemma groaned before letting out a chuckle. "My brother has that effect on people."

"Wait." Julie quickly said, raising one of her hands to get silence. She turned to me. "You want to kiss Harry, Liv, right?"

"I mean..." I slowly raised one of my shoulders as my eyes roamed on the five girls around me. "I guess, yes."

That was not a lie. I just omitted to add that I'd prefer to kiss NIall.

"We could cheat?" Lottie proposed. "So they get to kiss? Or find a game that will have them kiss immediately?"

"7 minutes in heaven?" Maya quickly suggested, her face illuminating.

"What are we, 12?"

The discussion kept going but I remained silent, only half-listening to what they were proposing as they threw ideas on how and when I could finally kiss Harry. I knew they meant well, and I could admit that I was deeply grateful and moved by the fact that they were there for me and cared enough to try and help me. I had known these girls for a while and I liked them a lot, but even Maya, whom I had just met, was trying to find a solution and the fact that it made her even more perfect than she already was made something stir in my stomach.

Their voices became a background noise and I suddenly held my breath and jumped on my feet again. I was tired to wait, tired to ask myself questions, tired to analyze every move of everyone, including myself. I deserved to be happy, I owed myself to at least try, and it was time I did something about it.

"I know what to do." I just whispered, opening the door and walking out of the bathroom.

They remained motionless and in shock for a few seconds but ended up following me to the living room, getting there just in time.

The boys were now standing up, talking and drinking. I noticed Harry saying something and Niall laughed but they both noticed me when I entered the room. I had never felt so determined in my life. I knew I had to do it and I knew I had to do it now. It didn't matter where we were and with who. All that mattered was this.

I walked up to them and noticed Harry's lips curl at my sight. Quickly, I got on my tiptoe, gripped his shirt tight and pressed my lips on his. He smelled like expensive cologne and I closed my eyes, enjoying the feeling of his mouth against mine. His hands found my waist but I could barely feel the tip of his fingers brushing against my sweater as he deepened the kiss but kept everything slow and gentle. He tasted amazing: a mix of sweet alcohol and caramel. How was that even possible?

I think I heard a few positive reactions around me but I tried to shut down every single senses except the ones that made me enjoy this kiss. The way he smelled, tasted, felt... And at this exact moment, I asked myself why this hadn't happened before? Why did we wait so long to get this incredible and inexplicable feeling? There was no answer and I pushed the questions away to focus on this moment that I knew i'd never forget.

[jisungjuice]

Pansy x Neville either one sneaking out from each other's dorm. Afraid to get caught. please and thank you. 😊

"Longbottom."

Neville froze, his heart hammering wildly inside his chest. This was exactly what he had been afraid would happen and he hated being right.

The voice was unmistakable and Neville sighed and resigned himself to his fate. He turned around to face Draco Malfoy. He stood in his green silk pajamas with the most satisfied smirk he had seen in weeks. Malfoy was truly happy that he had been the one to catch Neville.

"Malfoy," Neville greeted as if this was the most normal thing in the world. If he pretended he wasn't up to anything maybe he could leave faster.

"Well, well, well... what have we got here?" Another familiar voice came from the hall leading to the boy dormitories before Blaise Zabini stepped into the common room, also wearing expensive-looking pajamas.

"It seems we have an outsider sneaking into our territory," Malfoy said, glancing at Zabini and delighting himself in sharing Neville's humiliation with someone.

Neville wished he could point out that he was sneaking out after having succesfully sneaked in, but that surely wouldn't help.

Zabini observed him from head to toe and then his smile spread wider which couldn't be a good thing. "Oh no Draco. Look at him; wrinkled shirt, messy hair, untied shows... Longbottom here is trying to leave after-"

Malfoy gasped and then barked a laugh. "Who would have thought that little Longbottom would be getting it on with a snake?"

Neville balled his fists. "I'm bigger than you, Malfoy."

Which was true, Neville was both taller and stronger than him and he loved reminding Malfoy of that. Malfoy narrowed his eyes and got a little red, while Blaise snorted a laugh.

"Let's see how big you feel after everyone knows your secret." And without a warning Malfoy pointed his wand at him and wordlessly bound Neville's hands and legs. He summoned a chair and pushed Neville down to sit on it. "We just need to find out who's the traitor that invited you here."

Neville would have had no problem giving the name and basking in their surprise. Hell, the whole school could find out and he wouldn't care, so he remained calm even as Malfoy threatened him. But he had promised he wouldn't say anything, so he remained quiet.

"You won't tell us, huh? It figured. They're probably embarrassed of you."

Neville pretended that didn't hurt, but he had always had trouble hiding these things. Malfoy smirked again.

"What's going on?" a femenine voice asked. Daphne Grangrass rubbed his eyes as she walked in. She frowned when she saw Neville and then she looked at Malfoy and Blaise. "What did you do?"

Before Blaise could answer, more people appeared in the common room. Gregory Goyle, Theodore Nott, Tracey Davis and...

Pansy.

Basically the whole of the Slytherin 8th year were now surrounding him as if he was a prisioner and he could only guess what Malfoy wanted to do.

Neville kept his eyes down. Whatever had been going on with him and Pansy for almost a month now, he knew her feelings in the matter and she didn't want anyone to find out, so he didn't even bother to look at her, though he could imagine her panicked look upon discovering he had been caught.

"We have a lion, huh?" Tracey asked. "He looks rather ruffled. Wonder what he was doing..." She smiled sweetly but it wasn't sweet at all and Neville barely even knew her.

"We know what he was doing," Malfoy assured them. "Now we need to know who he was doing it with..." He looked suspiciously at all of his housemates.

"What makes you think is one of us?" Pansy asked and Neville felt his chest tighten.

"Are you saying he was with someone younger?" Blaise asked her.

Pansy didn't answer.

"Could be, could be," Malfoy said. "Though something tells me Longbottom was invited here by someone in our year. I don't know any seventh year who would be bold enough to bring a Gryfifndor here, nevermind a sixth year."

"Who says he was here with someone?" Nott wondered. "Maybe he just likes to look and-"

He was cut off by groans and complaints.

"Why are you such a fucking pervert?" Daphne told him.

"Maybe he's trying to hide the fact that Longbottom was with him," Blaise accused him.

Neville looked up then, because he couldn't control his curiosity about what others thought of this.

Nott looked at him with a smirk for a few seconds. "Unfortunately... It's not me. Though, of I play my cards right..."

Most of them rolled their eyes. Pansy was stoic, though.

"You're the only one disgusting enough to openly admit it if you were banging Longbottom so I actually believe you," Malfoy said. "So it must be someone with a dark side we don't yet know."

Damn it. Neville had been doing a good job of hokfind it together so far but it was getting harder and harder to act as if Malfoy's words didn't affect him. Plus Pansy's silence... she really must have been very embarrassed of him.

"Why do you even care, Draco?" Daphne asked him.

Goyle yawned. "I'm sleepy. Can I go?"

"So we're just going to pretend like bringing Gryffindors to our beds is fine and normal? Is that where we're at right now?"

Zabini sat down at an armchair. "Personally, I think it's funny. And it is also funny how jealous Draco seems to be that Longbottom is getting some while he isn't."

There were a few giggles around, including from Pansy. Neville didn't find it in him to be amused, though. He was feeling too many other things.

Malfoy glared at Zabini. "Me? Jealous of him?" He pointed at Neville and everyone fell silent. "How the fuck can I be jealous of someone like Longbottom. Did we all suddenly forget who he is just because of the war? He kills one snake and now the whole of Hogwarts is in awe and worships Longbottom as if he wasn't the same loser we all know? If you soberly decided to get with him you're a loser too."

Neville had felt Malfoy's magic waiver while he spoke, clearly upset, and he knew he could probably break the binds if he wanted to but he was suddenly overcome with emotion and couldn't move. He knew Malfoy wasn't right, he knew he was just an insecure bully, he knew his words didn't define him but...

"Shut up Draco!"

Pansy has stepped forward, her face furious in a way that Neville hadn't seen in a long, long time. Everyone was deadly quiet.

"Blaise is wrong. You're not jealous because Neville is with someone, you're jealous because you are not him!"

Tracey gasped. Pansy turned to see the rest of them.

"Yes, I am the one sleeping with him. So get over it now before you end up looking as stupid as Draco does now."

Malfoy shook off his surprise. "Wait-"

"Shut up. Just shut up forever," Pansy said again.

She walked over to Neville and undid his bindings which were already almost gone after Malfoy heard the truth. Pansy took his hand and helped Neville to his feet.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think he would be such an idiot."

"It's okay... You don't have to-"

"No, I want to."

Neville looked at her, her dark eyes sure and confident and a small smile that always felt like it was just for him.

Without thinking about it too much, Neville swooped him and kissed her. He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close to him while she held onto his t-shirt. He didn't care that all the Slytherins were watching, and apparently she didn't either, as she kept deepening the kiss and holding him tighter until Neville was almost out of breath and just desperate to take her back to her dorm.

When they pulled apart, Neville realized how quiet it was. He smiled at Pansy for a second before he looked around and saw that everyone seemed hypnotised, mouths hanging open and wide eyes. Malfoy was even blushed and like he definitely wouldn't be calling Neville a 'loser' anymore.

After a few awkward seconds, Nott cleared his throat. "So, do I still have a chance?"

Neville couldn't help a small laugh.

"Leave," Pansy instructed.

Everyone started to make their way back, including Malfoy without saying a word.

Until they were blissfully alone.

"From now on we don't meet here anymore, " Neville told her.

Pansy shook her head. "From now on, everyone will know and we do whatever the hell he want."

He smiled. "Let's start, then."

"What?"

"Let's go to my dorm."

Neville pulled her along while she laughed and he hoped they wouldn't get caught twice in one night.

[flyfireflyfly]

Run Away

Length warning: 3,059 words

You shifted in your seat, trying to get comfortable. The room was growing unbearably stuffy from all the people, and more kept arriving through the doors behind you. You took the paper program and fanned yourself with it for a moment. It didn't exactly help. Sighing, you let your arm drop down in to your lap. Then you felt an unsettling feeling and turned your head to look at the person next to your right. Your mom was giving you a disapproving look. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you looked away to examine the little booklet you held. There was certainly a lot in it. Not exactly a simple wedding, which explains why you and your family had received an invitation. This was meant to be a spectacle. Orchestra music began playing and you glanced at the doors in the back of the large room. More guest filed in though instead of the wedding party. This was only the first of three songs to be played before the actual ceremony. You wanted to groan and have a bit of a tantrum but you resisted that as well. Most of the guests took their seats and the chatter grew quieter. You surveyed the people sitting around you, recognizing very few faces. Then you looked across the aisle to the bride's side. There wasn't a single person in the crowd that you knew, though it was hard to see everyone. There had to be over a hundred people in the room. One person in particular caught your eye and you watched them amusingly. The man looked as if he didn't want to be here either. He was slouching in his chair and fiddling with the program that had been handed out. Then he pulled his phone out of his pocket. He only managed to mess with it for a few seconds before the older woman sitting next to him leaned in closer. She said something to him and he put the phone back in his pocket.

A small smile formed on your face. You could imagine the scolding he received. Probably the same one that your mom would give you if you dared to take out your phone. Suddenly the male turned and met your gaze. You inhaled sharply and quickly looked away. After waiting a few seconds, you chanced peeking over at him again. He was still looking at you and when he noticed he had your attention once more, he screwed up his face. An exaggerated expression that seemed to be his silent pleading, 'Just kill me now and put me out of my misery.' You swiftly slapped a hand over your mouth and looked at your lap. A snort of laughter still escaped you though, so you knew your mom was surely giving you another one of her looks. Clearing your throat, you lowered your hand and avoided looking at her. Instead you turned your attention back to the man. He had a smirk on his face, making you think that he saw the look your mom had given you. You gave him a playful glare and watch as his smirk turned in to a huge grin. At that moment, you noticed the woman beside him staring at you. You turned away and acted as if you were simply examining the crowd of people. After a bit, you peeked back over and saw the older woman earnestly talking to the man. He was shaking his head with an annoyed expression on his face, obviously not enjoying whatever she was saying. Then she was looking at you again. You averted your gaze once more as curiosity ate at you. What was she saying? Probably wondering if he knew her. That was a likely question. It didn't exactly explain his reaction though. There was definitely more to it, you just couldn't figure out what it was. The music changed, piquing your interest and hope. Instead of the classic wedding march, another song played. Slouching in your chair, you wished this thing would get over with already.

Once the long ceremony concluded, all the guests moved into another room that was even larger than the first. Round tables filled most of it, except the center where a dance floor was, and there was one long banquet table sitting on a small stage on the far side. You glanced around, wondering what to do and whether there was an escape route, when your arm was grabbed. "Be a dear and find our seats." your mother told you. Without waiting for a reply, she released you and moved away to talk to a group of people that had gathered. Rolling your eyes, you meandered your way around the tables. At least the room seemed to be divided between the groom and the bride again so you stuck to the tables on the right. It still took you several minutes before finally finding a table with your name on a place card. You sat down and checked the other cards besides yours. One had your mother's name on it while the other had a name you vaguely recognized. Probably one of your mom's co-workers. Surely your mom wasn't the only person from the company to receive an invitation. The crowd started to thin as people moved through the room. Some took their seats, more were standing and talking to each other. Time seemed to slowly tick by until there was the squeal of a microphone. You looked over at the banquet table and realized there was a DJ booth tucked in to a corner behind it. "Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce the bride and groom!" Cheers erupted as the doors opened. The newly married couple waltzed in, waving happily as they headed towards the dance floor. A song began playing and they stepped in to each other's arms. They danced, smiling at each other, and you couldn't help but smile as well. Even though they were putting on a show for over a hundred people, it was still plainly obvious that they were in love. Once the song was over, there was a round of applause and then everyone took their seats. Servers entered the room and food was set on the tables. You straightened in anticipation and willed your stomach to not growl. At least there was one good thing about being dragged along. What was set in front of you though promptly crushed your lifted movie. It resembled food, but you couldn't tell what it was. There there was also the fact that you could probably finish it in three to four bites. You lifted your fork and poked at the food before shifting it around your plate. Was that a mushroom? And this other thing was probably eggplant. You glanced at the others seated at the table to see them picking at their food, more interested in talking to each other than eating. Obviously about work as you picked out words like 'proposal', 'insolvent', and 'cash flow statement'. Taking a deep breath that did nothing for you, you hurriedly ate the food in four bites. Then you stood up. "Excuse me." you politely said even though you doubted anyone would hear you. You started to head to the door that you entered through when you noticed another door off to the side and much closer. As soon as you passed through it, you took another deep breath, breathing much easier this time.

The hallway was mostly empty but you spotted a few servers off to the left. That must be the direction of the kitchen so you went right instead. The hall came to an end and you made another right. Then you came to an abrupt stop so you wouldn't trip over someone. "Hey." You blinked in surprise. The man sitting on the floor was the same one from earlier. "Uh... hey." You looked past him a little ways and saw a set of double doors. "You making a run for it?" he asked and indicated the doors. "No." you replied. "Just hiding out for a bit." He grinned at you. "Me too." Then he lifted plate off the floor that was piled full of cream puffs. "I stole these from the kitchen." "Oh my god, food." You sat next down next to him and grabbed a handful. "Guess dinner wasn't all that good." he said with a chuckle. You shook your head. "You didn't miss much." "My name is Himchan by the way." Swallowing a mouthful of food, you introduced yourself as well. Himchan grabbed a cream puff and nibbled on it. "So, I'm assuming you were dragged here against your will." "Yeah. My mom works for the groom and she basically demanded I come. Said it would be the perfect chance expand my network." You rolled eyes at that. "What about you?" "My mom knows the bride. Not sure how though." You eyed him curiously. "Why did you get dragged here?" A noticeable blush graced his cheeks as he looked away. "I'd rather not say." You laughed, you couldn't help it. "Okay." Then you changed the subject, noticing the relief in his eyes that you didn't press him for an answer. Much to your surprise, the conversation flowed easily between you two. He was easy to talk to and you found yourself laughing quite a few times. And when you made a sarcastic comment, making him laugh as well, you even found yourself grateful that your mother had brought you here against you will. Which caused your face to heat up and you looked away from him to hide it. Loud music filled the hallway at that moment and you naturally turned your head towards the sound. "Oh, guess the dinner and toasting is done." you commented. Then you looked back at the male to see him smiling. "Guess so." Himchan echoed. Then he offered you his hand. "May I have this dance?" You snorted out a laugh and amusingly nodding your head while giving him your hand. "Sure." He quickly stood up before you got off the floor and helped you up. Your willed yourself not to blush as you smiled and glanced at the floor. You expected him to lead you back to the dining hall but instead, he held your hand and placed his other hand on your waist. "Here?" You giggled and settled your hand on his shoulder. "Oh yeah. Much better than having to deal with all those people. And my mom." You giggled again and let him lead you in to a waltz that certainly didn't match the beat of the music. Which only made you laugh more and his own laugh mingled with yours. Suddenly he jerked to a stop and released you. You blinked at him in surprise, seeing the happiness drain out of his face. "There you are." Whirling around, you saw the woman who had been sitting next to him during the ceremony. She had a grin on her face which only grew bigger as she eyed you up and down. "Uhh... I... I w-was..." stuttered Himchan. The woman closed the distance to you. "Well, aren't you going to introduce us?" Himchan tried to stammer out your name but failed so you told her it yourself. She repeated it, as if testing the sound of your name. "Are your parents here?" she questioned. "Uh... My mom is. My dad is at work right now." Instantly she looped her arm around yours and began dragging down the hallway. "Wonderful! I'd love to meet her." Your eyes widened in surprise as you tried to process what was happening. It didn't help that she kept firing off question after question. Where did you work, where did you go to school, where did your parents work, etc. You felt so helpless that you could only glance at Himchan trailing after the two of you. "Mom, stop. Please." he pleaded under his breath, so quietly that you barely heard him. You entered the dining hall and was yanked to a stop. "Where is she?" the woman asked while glancing around. "Uh..." A loud voice caught your attention and you turned. "There you are! There's some people I want you to meet!" You watch your mom approach you, eyeing the lady with you curiously. "Who is this?" Himchan's mom finally let you go and stepped next to your mom. "You have a lovely daughter." Then she grabbed Himchan by the arm and yanked him closer. "And this is my son, Himchan." Your mom's gaze flickered between the two of them for a moment before a bright smile formed on her face. "Oh! Such a handsome, young man. What do you do for a living Himchan?" Before the man could speak, his mother answered for him. Then continued listing his various achievements and hobbies, plus where she and her husband worked. Your mother nodded her head eagerly, hanging on to every word spoken, until she glanced at you with a look of surprise. As if she had completely forgotten you were there. "Why don't you two go out on the dance floor and enjoy yourselves?" "Splendid idea." Himchan's mother agreed. "In fact, they were just out in the hallway dancing." This brought a chuckle to both woman as they headed over to a table to sit down and continued talking.

You could only stare at the older women while your brain worked through what had just happened. An idea formed in your head that didn't make sense to you, but at the same time it did. It was too unbelievable though! But... that was it, right? Tearing your gaze away from them, you turned to face Himchan. His face appeared bright red, and in his eyes was a mixture of guilt and pity. That was enough for you. Your mouth dropped open as your eyes widened. "That's why my mom dragged me here." he confessed before casting his gaze downwards to the floor. You looked back at the two mothers and wondered if they were getting ahead of themselves by already planning the wedding. "Ready to run away yet?" Hope swelled in your chest but was instantly crushed. "My mom is my ride." "I drove myself." You quickly looked at Himchan and saw the questioning look in is eye. It lasted only a brief second though, and then the two of you were moving at the same time. You ran to the side door you had disappeared through before and back to your hiding spot. This time you kept going with Himchan pulling ahead and pushing the door open for you. You were in the main entryway now and racing towards the front doors. Giddiness overwhelmed you and you giggled like crazy. You managed to catch up to Himchan and you each went out a separate door. Much to your surprise though, there was a person standing right outside the door you went through. You bumped in to them, sending you reeling as you stumbled, but Himchan caught you in his arms so you didn't fall. Then his hand slid in to yours. Holding his hand tightly, the two of you ran down the front steps to the sidewalk. Only then did you turn back to look at the person you had ran in to. "Sorry!" you shouted back at them. The bewildered expression on their face made you laugh. What an odd sight it must be, the two of you running out of the large church like you did. It made you think of a bride running away from her wedding with a man who wasn't the groom. Himchan led you through the parking lot to a car. He unlocked it and you slipped in to the passenger seat as he got behind the wheel. You breathed heavily, trying to catch your breath even though the laughter that kept wanting to come out wasn't helping. "Wow!" you exclaimed. "Yeah." he agreed, laughing as well. "So, where to?" It only took a few seconds to think before you smiled brightly at him. "I'd kill for a cheeseburger." "Holy shit you read my mind." You busted out laughing and his own laughter mixed with yours. Then he started the car and you hurriedly put on your seatbelt. In just a few minutes, you found yourself sitting at a booth with Himchan sitting across from you. You practically bounced with excitement, earning you a few chuckles from him as he watched you. Once the server brought you your food, you grabbed your burger and took a bite of it. It tasted like heaven and you moaned in pleasure. "Feeling better now?" he teasingly asked. "Almost." You stood up and rounded the booth. He looked confused as you slid in next to him but you didn't say anything. Then you kicked off your shoes, leaned backwards, and brought your feet up to rest on the seat where you had been sitting. "There. Now I'm good." Laughing, he mimicked your posture and put his feet up as well. The two of you silently ate for a while, but you noticed him continuously glancing at you. You waited to see if he was going to say something except he never did. So finally you met his gaze and asked, "What? Why do you keep looking at me?" He blushed and looked away for a bit before looking back at you. A shy smile formed on his face. "Being dragged along wasn't so bad I guess." he mumbled. Your own face heated up and this time you had to look away for a bit. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. "Yeah. I guess not." you quietly agreed. "Sorry about my mom though." he said, blushing more from embarrassment. "She's a bit..." You nodded in understanding. "Wait until you get to know my mom." After you said those words, you realized the implication in them. Get to know. As in he was going to be around you mother more, and therefore spending time with you as well. The little twinkle in his eye signaled that he caught what you said as well and he grinned. "Guess we'll just make sure we always have an exit plan and a getaway car." Suddenly you could picture it, the two of you always running while holding hands, and you smiled. "Sounds good."

[midnightblaine]

Breaking Open - Klaine Advent 2018

Notes: I uploaded this part yesterday on AO3 but forgot to do it on here lol. I’ll be playing catching up now that I’m on break to hopefully finish it before december ends.

Day 5: Exclude

AO3

Blaine didn’t like going shopping anymore.

He knew he had been going overboard with the cronuts and the international food, the pints of ice cream that found their way to his hands every time he binged some show on his laptop. He was acutely aware that he only exercised once a week when he had stage combat.

He had gotten fatter than he ever thought possible.

And okay, maybe it was just a handful of pounds, but they showed. His chinos didn’t fit as well as they used to, digging into his waist, stretching more than usual across his thighs. His ass was getting bigger and jigglier. He couldn’t look at himself too long in the mirror without wanting to forego food altogether.

Going shopping meant he had to look for slightly bigger clothes and that was unthinkable. Buying new clothes meant accepting defeat, accepting that he wasn’t going to ever lose the weight he had gained. He wasn’t a quitter.

He made a plan of steering clear of the bottoms section of the store, going straight to the bowties, picking a new one for good luck. He needed all the luck he could get.

*

He stood outside of Callbacks, far away from the entrance line. Alessia and he had agreed to meet fifteen minutes before the concert was bound to start. She was nowhere in sight.

Blaine felt his heartbeat picking up. He had to tear his gaze away from the end of the block, hoping Alessia would arrive at any minute. He looked down at his clothes and wondered if he had time to go back home and change, surely purple suspenders weren’t appropriate attire for a night out. His plaid shirt felt too rural, he was wearing the wrong pair of shoes. He was getting anxious.

He almost dropped his phone when it suddenly vibrated with an incoming message.

Alessia NYADA – 7:45 PM: I’m so so so sorry Blaine

Alessia NYADA – 7:45 PM: I couldn’t finish this project on time

Alessia NYADA – 7:45 PM: I HAVE to submit it before midnight I can’t make it :(

Alessia NYADA – 7:45 PM: I’m sorry

There it was, a sign from god that he wasn’t supposed to be at the concert. He was leaving.

He started walking towards his apartment when another incoming text alerted him.

Alessia NYADA – 7:46 PM: Already texted Kurt, he’s going out to get you. Have fun for me.

Blaine stopped dead on his tracks. What was she thinking?! He couldn’t go inside there alone! He didn’t know anybody! A lot of them were in his classes but they had never exchanged a word. Most important of all, he couldn’t face Kurt by himself, what would he even say?

Before he could get too worked up and find a good enough excuse to leave immediately he saw Kurt walking out of the bar, his searching eyes finding Blaine easily and shooting him a smile as he walked towards him, greeting people as he went.

Blaine was screwed.

He hadn’t planned for this, for having to speak to the boy he had a massive crush on without a friend to fall back on when he inevitably turned into the awkward, fumbling mess he was. He took a fortifying breath and greeted Kurt when he was close enough.

“Hi.”

Yes, that was fine. Kurt had this concerned look on his face for a moment, before it was quickly put behind a pleased smile.

“Blaine! It’s so good to see you!” Kurt went to hug him, only faltering for a moment before he went for it, enveloping Blaine in his arms.

Before his brain could even catch up and do anything other than try to breathe, Kurt was pulling away, steering him towards Callbacks with a hand on the small of Blaine’s back.

“Sorry about your friend, classes can get tough sometimes,” he told him. Blaine was still thinking of something smart to say. “I hope you have a good time here. I noticed some of the people waiting are classmates of yours,” Kurt tried to be reassuring.

Blaine barely talked to anybody at school and he doubted a night at a karaoke bar would change that. He tried to give Kurt a encouraging smile that felt a lot more like a grimace.

They walked through a small door on the side of the building that led directly to some sort of backstage/changing room where Dani, Elliot and a few other people were. All their eyes fell on him.

He hunched over in dread, taking a short step back to try and hide behind Kurt but he was led to stand before the others with Kurt’s hand rubbing his shoulders. His cheeks were flaming red, he was sure.

“Guys, this is Blaine,” Kurt said, grabbing his shoulder more surely. “Blaine, these are the guys: Dani, Elliot, singers; Bill, Allan, Sabrina, guitar, bass and drums, respectively.”

“Nice to meet you,” Blaine muttered, still infinitely intimidated.  

Dani was the first to approach, kissing both of his cheeks and telling him how cute he was. The guys with the instruments all waved at him good naturedly and Elliot came to him, smirking all the way at Kurt before he gave Blaine a hearty handshake.

“Blaine, glad you could make it. Kurt here was very worried you wouldn’t show up.”

Blaine had no idea how to respond to that. Luckily, Kurt was busy shooting daggers at Elliot.

“We have to head out soon, let’s get you seated.”

Blaine tried to wish everyone good luck in a small voice and hurried after Kurt to the front where it was bustling with people. All the tables next to the stage were occupied, everyone was drinking and talking, the atmosphere was charged with anticipation. Blaine was going to be sick.

“Here,” Kurt pulled him to a stool next to the bar, close enough to the stage to see absolutely everything. “Here you won’t get bothered, the front tables tend to get a little rowdy.”

The boy was ignoring absolutely everyone in the bar who was looking at him trying to get his attention. He had eyes only for Blaine. Blaine didn’t know how to react. He felt like he didn’t know a lot of things.

“I have to run but thank you again, Blaine, for coming. I hope you like it.”  

Before Blaine could do more than simply nod dumbly, Kurt was gone, rushing towards the back to join his friends. Blaine felt like he was in a ridiculously elaborate dream. He was known for having those regularly. He was so out of his dept it would be funny if he didn’t feel like he was going to cry.

He sat there, wondering if the bartenders carded people. He had never had a fake ID and he was too much a lightweight, but he felt like he needed a drink, a strong drink.

He was still debating whether to ask for something to drink or not when a heartening applause made him look towards the stage. One Three Hill was occupying the stage, grabbing their microphones and instruments, greeting the crowd. They all looked amazing.

Kurt started them off, thanking everyone for their presence and introducing the band, rattling off all their names and being his usual charming self. Blaine sat there fascinated.

Being on a stage, under the spotlight, with the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand. That was were Kurt was supposed to be, his true place in the world. He was enthralling. He announced their opening song and the three of them, Kurt, Dani and Elliot began to sing.

They were incredibly good. Those videos Blaine had watched obsessively didn’t do them justice in the slightest. Each of their voices was completely unique and they all had such contrasting personalities that seemed to fit perfectly. Blaine was sold, as was most of the crowd as far as he could tell.

Roaring applause followed the first song’s final notes and Blaine couldn’t help but try to clap the loudest. He was grinning from ear to ear, adrenaline rushing through him like he had been the one on the stage. He felt so proud of them.

Kurt came forward on stage and announced a solo performance from Dani who was bouncing about excitedly. She then explained it was a song she had written herself and the proceeded to blow everyone’s minds.

The drummer, Kurt and Elliot were all providing background vocals as Dani brought the house down.

“…like a skyscraper,” she held a soft note as everyone came to their feet.

Blaine had never been so glad he hadn’t missed a social event. These people were so talented and raw and gorgeous, he felt privileged to see them perform live.

“Thank you, guys,” Elliot addressed the audience, making everyone fall silent in a heartbeat. Kurt drew a delighted Dani to his arms. “And thank you, Dani, for giving us an incredibly hard act to follow. As part of our comeback setlist, we wanted to perform a song that Kurt and I used to sing during the first rehearsals of the band but never really got a chance to perform in front of an audience,” he shot a smile directly at Kurt who rolled his eyed but was grinning nonetheless. “Until now,” it felt like witnessing a private moment, an inside joke only the two of them were in on. Blaine felt a twisting hole in his chest at the sight.

Dani ran to grab a guitar as Elliot looked at the audience again. “So, let’s go.”

I believe in a thing called love was the last song Blaine would have thought Kurt would be performing that night. It suited him though, it suited them. Kurt and Elliot, who rather than sing to the crowd, were singing to each other, teasing each other, pointing at each other. They were having fun, going as far as leaving the stage to weave through the crowd without missing a beat.

Sweltering heat began creeping under Blaine’s collar, making him tug at his bowtie in discomfort. Had it been that hot in there before?

Kurt perched himself on a table directly in Blaine’s line of sight as Elliot climbed onto the frigging bar. The audience was eating everything up, cheering and whooping as they performed. In an instant, Kurt’s eyes found his in the crowd, he was beaming, open and carefree. Blaine had to look away.

Kurt continued his song with Elliot.

“I want to kiss you, every minute, every hour, every day…”

Blaine felt an acute need to get out of there.

The song finished with a standing ovation, cheers flooded the place as Kurt and Elliot came down from their high. Elliot threw his arms around Kurt excitedly, spinning him around as they laughed.

Blaine watched everyone in the audience clapping and whistling, catcalling at them. They were all eager to hear more, to see more. A current of electricity was cutting through the air. Everyone was having a great time, drinking, hanging out with friends. Blaine felt excluded from it all.

He left his stool and fought his way to the door. There were people still waiting to go inside, to witness the sheer spectacle that was One Three Hill.

On his way home, Blaine told himself that he had left because his social skills and introvert tendencies had had enough interactions with people for one day. He resolutely did not think once of Kurt and Elliot, their intense chemistry and how good they looked together.  

[xicarcalii]

why me?

pairing: billy hargrove x (female) reader

summary: sad reader and a bit of a dick *understandable though* billy hargrove. 

note: inspired by two of my favorite movies.

warning: slight cussing, teen pregnancy...*i mean its just mentioned but still.*

california 23/6/85

2:30 a.m.

she sat in her pajamas in the living room of the one bedroom apartment her and billy bought. two months. it had been two months since they left hawkins together; and now she was regretting why she had said yes in the first place. she knew exactly where he was, didn't even have to question it. all she asked for was one day. after he would get off work at the garage, they would go out to their favorite diner, have dinner, and then she would tell him something that would change both of their lives forever. (y/n) didn't know how he would react; would he be happy that he was going to be a father in 9 months? would he leave?

her thoughts were quickly disrupted by the ringing coming from the kitchen, she got off the sofa and answered it, expecting to hear a drunk billy. yes. every night for the past week, he would go off gallivanting with his old high school buddies and do god knows what. (y/n) didn't mind at first but after awhile it was getting old.

instead of billy (y/n) got the owner of the bar, patrick epps.

"hey (y/n)?"

"yeah, patrick."

(y/n) and patrick were no strangers, if billy wasn't with his friends running around he was at the bar. either drinking or getting into fights.

"you need to-"

he was cut off by (y/n)'s deep sigh.

"i'll be over soon, just put him...somewhere." throwing her head back.

"will do sweetheart, see ya in a bit."

and with that she hung up, grabbed the envelope along with her keys and left.

the car ride on the way home was silent.

(y/n) looked over to billy who was leaning against the passenger window, looing down at the fresh cuts on both of his knuckles. (y/n) thought he changed. he was so much different back home. in hawkins. she pictured steve, standing in front of her, arms crossed; saying "i told you so." in all honesty, (y/n) missed hawkins, she missed her parents, steve, nancy, johnathan, the party. she never saw california as her home, knowing now, how billy felt when he first moved to hawkins. they were both only 18, living together in a one bedroom apartment, barely making enough for the both of them, now having to worry about a baby on the way. how the hell were they going to do this? her thoughts were cut off by billy’s voice.

"look, (y/n). i got your messages at the garage but then the guys wanted to go out. i was only going to be out for an hour, okay? i was going to call yo-"

"that's such bullshit billy, you and i both know that, you'd rather spend the evening with your friends instead of me. your girlfriend. perfectly fine. even though we already made plans."

not even music could tune out the tension growing between the two. nothing could if i’m being honest. the tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

(y/n) pulled into the parking lot and looked over at her drunken mess of a boyfriend.

"are you going to tell me what happen tonight at the bar?"

he shook his head ever so slightly.

she sighed, turning off the car. she began looking around the vast parking lot before speaking again.

"how many drinks did you have? are you still drunk?"

"not anymore." billy mumbled into his lap.

"were you even going to show up tonight, or were you just going to leave me sitting at home, to worry about you till you would decide to come home?"

(y/n) said this as she grabbed the envelope out of her purse. she looked down at it, reluctantly giving it to billy, placing it on his lap.

"what is this?"

"open it." she said emotionless.

"what is this?" now holding the off white envelope in his bruised hand. (y/n) turned herself, fixing her position in the drivers seat to face billy.

"open it." she said, shrugging her shoulders.

"why?"

"open the letter billy, please."

(y/n) looked away as he began to read it.

"i’m letting you know i plan on expanding our house two more feet."

billy chuckled at the card, repeating what it had said before looking back up at (y/n) who had already met his gaze. he looked back down, opening up the card, pulling out a positive pregnancy test.

billy's face went blank. 

a dumbfounded billy was going to be a father. he wanted to keep his calm and tell (y/n) that everything would be ok but a part of him, no scratch that, a huge part of him didn't want to turn out like neil. the man who had abused him ever since his mom died. slipping back into reality was hard to say the least.

"what the fuck is this? is this a fucking joke."

he wasn't yelling but (y/n) knew it was just a matter of time.

"no it's not a joke billy, wh-why would i joke about this."

"is this like a-"

"yea." she said, eyes closed.

billy could barely hear her response but he already knew what she said. denial, of all things. i mean they were still kids themselves, fresh out of high school. "like wha-" he said, frantically flipping the test over and over again, repeatedly. almost as if the positive sign would turn into a negative one if he went at it long enough.

"i-(y/n) i can't do this."

"yea...figures." she scoffed looking down now, playing with her fingers. "something else you don't show up for."

"(y/n)! i-yo-"

"billy, i gave up my family for you, my friends, the people i've known my entire life, a school i busted my ass off trying to get into, my job, fuck! i gave up everything i knew to be with you so trust me when i tell you this, i'm not giving this up too, this is bigger than you and you know that!" (y/n) said, blinking rapidly trying to hide the visible tears that were forming.

"how-i-i thought you were careful?" billy now fixed himself so he was now also facing (y/n).

"careful!" she said as her eyes widened.

"(y/n) you know i can't do this-i can't i can't raise a kid (y/n) i just can't."

(y/n) knew he was doubting himself, and she knew why.

neil.

neil always told him he was useless, he wouldn't be accountable to anything or anyone. putting all this nonsense into billy's head drove him to believe it. the mental and physical abuse drove him to be a complete dick. but with (y/n). with her, he was a completely different person and she knew he could do this. he just had to tell himself that.

"what- i can't look after him." "what? do you expect us to play catch together? go to a basketball game together? teach him how to drive? like how am i suppose to take care of him, i'm going to mess him up!"

(y/n) was indeed right. billy hated the idea have starting a family and ending up like neil. that thought was drilled in the back of his head for as long as he can remember.

"yes, you are going to mess him up billy; but not because your afraid of ending up like neil but because you're acting like a fucking kid still, be a man billy! i'm not going to hold your hand and push you around like a baby in a stroller! own up to your responsibilities!"

"oh fuck you (y/n)!"

"just man up!"

"fuck you (y/n), i can’t believe yo-!” billy trailed off.

"so this is my fault, all of this is my fault! all of this is my fault then? right."

the conversation got heated very quickly after that.

nodding her head, pretending to listen to billy, she didn't care about the tears that were streaming from her face or how billy was now screaming in her right ear. all she wanted to do was hide away. in her bedroom. in hawkins. in her home, the home she grew up in. not the one bedroom, one bath, her and billy bought. only knowing he would have a key, which would lead to the argument never leaving.

"you don't think this scares me (y/n)!?" 

"and you don't think it scares me?!" she bit back.

"i can't!, i can't!, i can't!, i can't do it! why do you even want me? why? i'm such a fuck up!"

those words hit (y/n) in the gut, she looked at him in despair. she felt bad for him, for thinking that he could ever be as terrible as his father. he turned away, taking a deep breath, putting his head in his hands. shaking his head; he continued.

"i can't, i can't, i can't do it (y/n), not unless you want the kid to end up like me or even worse me ending up like my dad."

(y/n) casually unbuckled her seat belt and got out of the car. she cried her way to the second floor. all she wanted was her mom. her dad. steve. she wanted to go home. so she grabbed her suit case and began to pack the various items along with her clothes that laid in disarray around the room.

"(y/n)!" she could hear the desperate teen from the other side of the room, she ran to the door and locked it; soon returning her suit case. the constant banging and screaming of billy was a headache at most but soon it died down to silence.

she grabbed her coat from the closet and walked out of the bedroom. billy sat on the love seat, standing up as she walked out, coat and bag in hand. 

they kept their gaze, to both, it felt like an eternity but give or take, it was only 10 seconds.

"(y/n) you can't be serious." billy said, trailing behind as she unlocked her car, throwing her belongings into it.

"this is not going to work, we are not going to work billy, we're too different, we're not right for each other." (y/n) said this as she made her way to the drivers side of her car only to be turned around to a now frustrated billy.

"we're not right for each other?"

"no we're not-"

"we're not right for each other?"

"no-"

"we are perfect for each other, this "baby" thing isn't a big deal, alright i see that now, just please, come back inside so we can talk (y/n)". billy said this trying to not lose his shit, he knew if (y/n) left he would be back to ground 0. to having nothing. no one.

"billy we are not perfect for each other, we may have been back in hawkins or if we didn't live in the real world but even though you want to live in a place where we're perfect for each other i live in the real world. i need a life that is more structured, i need a future that is more structured, i need to have my life together for this baby. our baby! and i'm sorry i want to be the person that you want me to be but i just cant!" (y/n) said throwing her hands to her sides.

billy walked towards her placing both of his hands on her shoulders.

"hey, listen to me, you are. you are! we've been through this so many times (y/n)!"

"i'm unhappy."

there was no emotion in that sentence. none. (y/n) stared at billy, eyes burning into his. she didn't mean for them to sound so harsh. but god they did.

"i'm unhappy billy, and tonight proves just that. you're so.." she trailed off, stepping closer to him to play with the hem of this shirt. "you really are so wonderful, and you're just sensitive, and-and romantic an-" she began, but was cut off by billy.

"weak." the sadness and desperation, disappeared. 

what was there now? anger. just anger and betrayal.

he scoffed, turning away from (y/n), walking back into the building.

"weak? no, billy i never said that you were weak!" she called out, following behind him.

"weak!" he spun around to face (y/n) as she jolted back.

"weak." he said in a softer tone, even though his eyes we still full of rage.

"i never said you were weak billy, stop putting words in my mouth!" she said, raising a finger to his face, only for him to roll his eyes and look away.

"do you love me?"

he asked, head still to the side.

"do you love me?"

he asked again.

(y/n) shook her head. "that's not the point!" she turned on her heel and began walking back to her car, once again, with billy hot on her trail.

"that is the point! it is the point, (y/n)!"

"that is not the poin-"

"you didn't answer me!"

(y/n) got to her car, looked down at the ground, then back up to billy.

"yes i love you."

"(y/n) if you love someone.." billy trailed off, walking closer to her with softer eyes. face to face he continued, almost in whisper.

"you work it out, you don't just throw it away, because you might never get it again."

she shook her head.

"i cant keep doing this with you anymore billy." moving her finger back and fourth between them. 

(y/n) voice cracked, she could feel the lump in her throat as she tried to speak. every time she tried to swallow it she would cry even more.

"i can't".

it was less than a whisper to billy's demise but that's all (y/n) could project at the moment.

(y/n) turned away from billy and got in her car, closing the door behind her.

billy banging on the window.

of course.

"(y/n) you can't just walk away from this, i'm sorry ok? please!"

"(y/n)!"

(y/n) started the car and drove off, heading back to hawkins, indiana.

part of her felt guilty for leaving billy but another part of her felt this was the right thing to do for both her and their baby. maybe he just needed time to think and mature.

she looked in her rear view mirror one last time to see billy, hands behind his head in defeat, walking back into the building.

[nicorii]

The red hoodie

Hi! Me again, sense you liked my last fic, i thought I would contuine it.also, I know I wrote it, but I submitted it to you, would you be ok with me putting it on my AO3 account? Also, I’m on my phone so my typing is horrid. I wanted to explain a dumb joke I had in the last one,because when I reread it it didnt make aense much. During the small movie date, Kevin mentions a ’ Benjamin lumberjack’ that was a joke about benedict cumberpatch. Well, now onto the fic!

_____________________________

Odd. That is how Kevin would describe what he was looking at as. Odd. A gaint woman craved into the side of a cliff holding a house in its hands, and it sat next to the ocean.it was odd for sure. He knew jamie delivered the mail our here, but when Kevin helped, jamie ahd already delivered by then, so he didnt know until now were the kid lived.

Oh yeah, the kid. Steven was his name. He ruined everything Kevin worked for. Kevin grinded his teeth together and pulled at the purple acarf on his neck.

The scarf Jamie gave him the first day the hung out together.

Kevin took a breath and kept a hand on the scarf, it reminded him why he was here in the first place.

Kevin was here to apologize.

Its not like he did anything wrong. The kids tricked him when he only wanted to dance, and they became obsessed with him after he beat them in a car race, but they had to ruin everything. And if Kevin wanted jamie back….

He had to play like he was the one at fault.

“Forget it kev, jamie isn’t worth this….” He told himself as he walked closer to the building he saw the little girl -Connie was her name (and no he didnt stalk her…he just followed her when he happened to see her walking to the beach.he needed to apologize anyways so…not stalking) -walk in a few minutes ago, so he knew they were both there. 

“He is just a drama queen, someone who is obsessed with you. You dont need him, he is not worth telling these brats sorry too.."Kevin muttered to himself as he climbed the stairs and stood at the screen door.

"Who are you kidding Kevin…jamie is worth everything…” He slowly knocked on the screen door. From his place on the deck, he could see. A kitchen, couch, a weird crystal pad, and stairs going up to what looked like a bed that the two kids sat on and watched tv. The curly hair boy yelled"coming!“ As he hopped onto the couch and ran to the door smiling.

He wasnt smiling when he saw who it was.

"Keviiiiiin…."he hissed at said boy.

"Hello to you too kid.” Kevin returned the greeting. Connie came down the stairs when she heard who it was. Glaring at the taller boy through the screen, she balled her fists and put them on her waist.“and what are YOU doing here?”

Kevin met her eyes with ease and crossed his arms.“look I came here to tell you two something. I rather not tell you but I have to.” The two kids shared s look them returned their gazes at Kevin.

“So…what do you need to tell us?” Steven asked. Kevin took in the breath and looked out to the ocean, thankful for the view into blue nothingness.

“I’m….sorry.”

Silence filled the air.

The screen door opened and Steven pointed to the couch.“you can take a seat,"  althought it sounded like a request, Kevin caught the undertone of a demand. He walked in and sat on the couch, watching the two stand on the other side of the low table, looking at him.

"Why are you apologizing now? And you’re apologizing to the wrong person.” Connie stated, Kevin watched as the two kids took hands,did a short dance, then glow.

Stevonnie stood in front of him.

“Alright….I’m listening…jerk.” Crossing her arms, she stared down Kevin with eyes he couldn’t meet this time.

“I said I’m sorry, alright? I…was a jerk like you said.” Kevin hated saying this, but he knew he had too. He remembered chas had lines like this, were he had to act out of character and sound like he meant every word. Maybe Jamie could have taught him some acting after all, now he just needs to use it.“I invaded your personal space at the rave” use words they said before, when they tattled to jamie,“ I wanted to dance but you didnt want to. I’m sorry. During the race I…got upset. And claimed you were wrong when I was in the wrong instead…so I’m..sorry. Can you er….forgive….me?” It physically pained him to say these words, it really did. He pulled at the purple around his neck. He would take any pain if it meant he could be with Jamie again.

“You think its over just like that? You made me really uncomfortable at that rave and you were a jerk to a lot of people in town at the race aswell. Why do you want to apologize now? After so long why now? It doesnt make sense…” Stevonnie had a softer tone now.

Kevin,sighed.“would you believe me if I told you?” He didn’t see any other choice but the truth, he really didn’t. He put his head back on the couch and put his hands on his face.“ The truth is, if I don’t apologize to you, ive lost the one person i care about more than myself.”

He was silently insulted by the gasp that followed.“you care about someone more then yourself?! I didnt think that was possible…” The disbelief was audible in Stevonnie’s voice. Kevin lifted his head to give a glare.

“Yes, it is possible, and I wouldnt apologize to you if I didnt have to, but it is the only way he will even talk to me agian."He stood up and pulled still his scarf. This was pointless, they wont forgive him and he will never get jamie back."forget it, im leaving.” Kevin walked past them to the door

“Ill forgive you.” Stevonnie said as he reached the door. Kevin froze in place at the surprise of those words.“if you do one thing…”

He should have seen the catch coming.

_______

“Couldnt I write, I dont know, cards saying I’m sorry’ instead?” Kevin questioned as Connie and Steven set up a microphone on the theatre stage.

“Nope!” Came the overjoyed relpy, followed by giggling. Kevin held a microphone as people began to take their seats in the foldable chairs. He saw a lot of familar faces, which is common in a small town,like beach city, but many were of people he was mean too. He saw the French fry guy who can’t dance, and the pizza twins. He saw sour cream, the one name he knew in the crowd and didn’t hate, and a guy named buck, who took his role of chas. The blonde donut girl and tall bean pole were sitting next to each other. He saw the mayor in a chair and remembered calling him washed up once. Kevin’s eyes scanned over the people until they rested on a fluffy haired mailman within the crowd. Kevin looked at Jamie’s confused face starring at him. He pulled at the scarf agian, it was slowly turning into a nervous habit. If he wanted jamie back, he had to do this.

One thing was for sure though…

These kids were evil.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” Steven announced, doing jazz hands.

“Kevin has something he wants to say to all of you! Without further a-due…” Connie jazz hands too.

“Kevin!” They jazz hands at Kevin before running off the stage..

Silence fell over the audience as Kevin stood there, just holding the microphone and pulling at his scarf. 

He didnt want to do this, he hated this. Why should he have to do this to be forgiven? It was unfair to embarrass him like that…

But from the crowd, Kevin saw jamie give him a smile,,the smile jamie made when Kevin was nervous about his lines during rehearsal. A smile jamie had for Kevin that told him he would be ok, even if he messed up.

Kevin missed that smile almost as much as he missed Jamie’s smile when he saw Kevin wearing his scarf.

Yeah…Kevin had to do it.. It was for jamie after all.

“Hi I’m…im Kevin.” Wonderful opening, Oscar worthy, really.“ I know uh..dumb way to start.but uh..I’m uh…sorry? I guess? Look im still figuring out how to say this..I was a jerk to…well to everyone really…and honestly? I don’t care if I was a jerk, but I…I see now that if I’m not…less of a jerk…I don’t get the person i care about, ill always be second best…when I am the best.” What? Kevin is still Kevin, you think he isnt going to brag?“look what I’m saying is…I am sorry…for all the mean things I have said, and all the mean things I have done. I’m..working on being better….” Kevin,began to take off his hoodie.it was his favorite one. It was red and comfy, never too hot, never too cold when he wore it. Plus, it was very fashion forward.

“A few weeks ago…I was given this purple scarf…and I uh..I never gave a gift back in return for it…” Kevin saw Jamie’s look of surprise as he mentioned the scarf.“so uh..jamie if you..want it..uh..here?” Kevin held the hoodie out off the stage towards the silent crowd. He looked off to the side. Kevin didn’t see the movement nor hear the footsteps of someone coming near him. He didnt look over until he felt a pull on his hoodie. He turned and his eyes met Jamie’s. Jamie came up to get his hoodie. As Jamie’s pulled on the hoodie a bit, he gave Kevin a brand new smile.

“Thanks Kevin, I really like your hoodie.” Kevin gently let go of the red hoodie and watched jamie put it on. Kevin was bigger than Jamie, so the jacket was a little long, but Jamie was cute nonetheless. Kevin now understood why Jamie gave such a cute smile when he saw Kevin wesronf his scarf. It was sweet to see someone wearing something you gave them.

“I like you.” Kevin,said into the microphone.

Who would have knows it could get even more silent?

Buck slid sour cream a ten as Jamie looked up at Kevin.

“Oh I like you too.” Jamie smiled, being the oblivious,person he most likely isn’t.

“Jamie if you make me sing a love song from a musical to get you to understand that my ‘like’,for you is a. 'love’ I will throw myself into the sun.”

The crowd broke into soft whispers as Jamie blushed. Steven ran over and took the microphone.

“Ok so uh..who all forgives Kevin?” Slowly, hands began to go up around the audience, followed by some small comments,of 'i will forgive him c u s see this is cute AF'  soon everyone hsd forgiven Kevin and connie took the microphone.

“ok have a nice day! you can so leave now.”

Soon everyone had left and Kevin was left with Jamie.

“I apologized to everyone for you. Like you said, you dont owe me anything ,but I do love you.” Jamie was as red as stevens shirt.

“I…havent thought about you like that..”

Kevin sat on the stage and shrugged.“its fine, I figured you hadn’t, but now you can think about me and see if I’m the JD to your veronica.” He winked. Jamie blinked.

“Kevin, have you even seen heathers the musical?, Kevin shook his head.

Nah,just looked up some theatre couples and I figured it sounded romantic.”

“Yeah…we are going to my house to see exactly why they are not a good couple to try to copy.”

“Oh so I get a date already?” Its Kevin, if he doesn’t play cool, he will probably combust right now.

Jamie sputtered our a “t..thats not what this is"v before turning to walk away. Kevin grabbed the hood and pulled Jamie back, placing a kiss on his cheek. 

"Alright, alright, lets go watch heathers the musical.”

Jamie blushed all the way to his house as Kevin drove them there.

One thing w a for sure, jamie didn’t see this twist ending.

——–

Annnnnnd done!,I know its shorter then the last one, but I figured it would be funny. Steven and connie, in my opinion, would totally make Kevin apologize to the full town because he was s jerk to the citizens in town a lot probably. Buck and sour cream had a bet going on if Kevin was into guys of not, cause he spent s lot of time with Jamie lately. Sour cream won. Yeah bur if you dont mind, I would like to post these to mt ao3?

Submitted by: @sockpansy

yO I REALLY LOVE THIS????? YES PLEASE? Kevin meeting up with Steven and Connie to apologize was my favorite part omGG. The rest of it was so sweet I’m gonna cry, and I nearly loST IT WHEN KEVIN REFERENCED HIM AND JAMIE AS VERONICA AND JD ASDFGGJKL. IT’S YOUR AMAZING WORK, OF COURSE YOU CAN POST IT.

[tenscupcake]

electrostatic potential (24/?)

ten/rose. adult this ch. sorry x1000 for taking so long. hope the chapter is worth the wait. i’ve certainly missed it. thanks @goingtothetardis​ for the read-through. summary: as the doctor and rose traverse time and space looking for adventure, they slowly fall victim to a mysterious energy that can manipulate their emotions. though confused and unnerved by the cerebral affliction, neither of them understands its cause, or realizes that it could jeopardize their friendship. what will it take for them to discover the truth? this chapter on ao3 | back to chapter 1 on ao3

Having woken up as early as they did, the Doctor and Rose make it to breakfast with Kalei with plenty of time to spare. The daily report on the ruki population is quite promising – there were hardly any fish washing ashore the night before. There’s a fishing expedition planned for this morning led by Kenai, and he invites them to come along. But when they discover Kalei won’t be in their company (he was never good at fishing, he says), the Doctor and Rose kindly decline Kenai’s offer. Recalling their difficulty reeling in their last catch, they insist they wouldn’t be much use to the professionals in attendance. Instead, they opt to shadow Kalei at the woodshop, to see firsthand what he’s working on. But just knowing their proprietary treatment is working puts an even bigger skip in Rose’s step (if that’s possible).

They start out the morning meeting some of the other expert woodworkers, some of which are friends of Kalei’s, and others that are much older. Rose silently categorizes them as apprentices and mages, respectively, though she doesn’t know how much truth there is to the labels. Once they’ve been introduced to everyone, they follow Kalei to his workstation, and he drags over a couple of extra chairs for them to get comfortable. He explains a few of the ongoing projects he’s working on: some are daily commissions, and others are months-long tasks in collaboration with experts in other fields.

They aren’t any help, of course, though that doesn’t seem to bother Kalei. Rose is entirely unfamiliar with woodworking, and though the Doctor has a natural predilection for engineering, without any threat of danger or requests for help, the projects are too mundane for him to volunteer assistance. But at least for a while, they both enjoy hearing about what he’s doing, as the Doctor is always keen to learn any tidbits about a foreign culture. But eventually, Kalei’s explanations die down, and the lull in conversation is making both Rose and the Doctor a bit bored.

“So, make any headway with Dakota?” Rose asks to break the silence. There hadn’t been a chance to ask him the day before, as she wanted to avoid embarrassing him by asking in front of his entire family. She keeps her tone as casual as possible, trying not to let on that she had encouraged Dakota to talk to him the other night.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you yesterday!” he exclaims, pausing his work on the stack of planks he’s currently cutting and shaping. “I haven’t told him yet. But we talked the night of the bonfire.”

“Oh?” Rose feigns ignorance. “What did he say?”

“Not much, really. He said he wanted to hang out. We’re supposed to meet at Nani’s once we’re both off work.”

“Oh, that’s exciting!” Rose doesn’t hide her excitement.

“You think so?” he tilts his head to the side and screws up his face, skeptical.

“Well, yeah! I mean, how did he ask you? Did he sound nervous?”

Kalei pouts his lip, thinking back.

“I guess he was acting sort of weird… but, we hang out all the time. It didn’t seem like an out of the ordinary request.”

“He didn’t invite anyone else, though, did he?”

“Well, no…”

“Did he say anything else that night?” Rose feels like she’s giving him the third degree now, but she can’t help it. The implausible success of her and the Doctor’s relationship has her floating on an inflated sense of romantic optimism.

“He did tell me again how much he likes the wolf charm. And that I was the best craftsman he’s ever met.”

Rose quirks an eyebrow, waiting for the revelation to hit him. Blimey, all blokes across the universe are equally thick.

“You think he likes me, too?” he asks, pointing to his chest with his thumb.

“Think he might,” Rose says nonchalantly, trying but failing to hold back a grin.

Kalei’s jaw drops open, his eyes going wide.

“Oh, wait!” he exclaims. “You were talking to him that night, too. I completely forgot! Did he tell you? You didn’t tell him I liked him, did you!?” Kalei quickly turns hysterical.

“I didn’t tell him anythin’,” Rose assures him, holding out her hands in a peaceful gesture. “An’ he didn’t… specifically tell me anything either. I just got a feeling, talkin’ to him.”

“Wow…” A wide grin spreads across Kalei’s face, making him look even younger than he usually does.

Rose happens to glance over at the Doctor, and finds him leaning back in his chair precariously, his feet up on the nearest desk, staring up at the ceiling as he plays a game of catch with himself. Despite his obvious boredom, he still looks rather pleased with himself, and it’s not hard to figure out why. Heat floods through her with a rush of memories of her wake-up call this morning. But even though the Doctor could be playing the ‘stud’ card right now and offering Kalei advice of his own, he still seems entirely uninterested in the romantic affairs of others. Not wanting to purposely ostracize the Doctor from the conversation any longer, she wraps up this particular discussion.

“Please, just let me know how it goes tonight, yeah?” Rose asks.

“Will do,” he agrees, turning back to his work.

“So, uhm, how’s Kairi’s project going?” she changes topics.

At that, the Doctor perks up, stuffing the sonic back in his shorts and dropping his feet (and the two front legs of his chair) back on the ground.

Rose gathers that she worked on the project late into the evening, and it’s going well, but there’s a long road ahead.

They spend another fifteen minutes or so with Kalei, and he solicits the Doctor’s advice on a geometry problem with a special order that has stumped him. But after his brief (for the Doctor) questions have been answered, the Doctor gets restless. Though to be fair, with no one to help and nothing to occupy his hands or intellect, she’d be worried if he didn’t get antsy.

So with one more benediction from Rose for his date tonight, they say goodbye, and promise to meet up with him tomorrow.

“So, what now?” Rose asks as they step outside to a cloudless sky. She covers her forehead with her arm to protect her eyes from the bright sunlight.

The Doctor pulls out his sunglasses and darkens them quickly with the sonic.

“I know just the place,” he announces with gusto, like he’s had it planned out for a while now. “C’mon!” He tows her down the stone steps with him towards the shore, and something tells her she’s going to like the surprise.  

---

The Doctor leads her along the coast, past the edge of the village, and past the tidepools they admired a few days ago. At some point as they venture on, the lively ruckus of the bustling little town is completely lost to her ears. The further they get from the tiny civilization, the fewer footprints mar the pristine sand. Engaged as she is in the Doctor’s ramblings about the astrophysics of waves (though she can’t understand it, he’s as endearing and sexy as ever when he talks science to her), she doesn’t notice how far they’ve gone. When she turns back around to check, she can’t even see the village anymore – it’s disappeared around the natural bend of the island.

When she looks around, the amount of sand around them has diminished considerably. Only about ten feet of damp sand now separate the tide from the towering purple rocks. They’ve gotten steeper, too – not a gentle slope on which to build a village, but treacherous cliffs that wouldn’t be kind to the most skilled of climbers. Looking on ahead, she notices the beach disappears entirely not too far ahead, supplanted by the unwelcoming rocks.

But the Doctor looks unconcerned that their path is ending.

“Doctor,” she interrupts him.

When he looks over at her, she simply gestures to the disappearing sand, the expanse of water and great, big cluster of boulders blocking their way forward.

“Right, then!” he announces with glee. “Almost there.”

Without warning, he starts unbuttoning his shirt.

“What’re you doin’?” she asks, gawking at his newly exposed chest. If he wants her to mind his personal space until they’re properly alone again tonight, stripping isn’t a good choice.

“Just a bit of a swim to get there. You don’t mind, do you?” He wriggles his arms out of the shirt one at a time, and crumples it between his hands.

“No,” she stammers out, trying to keep her cool. Averting her eyes from his exposed form, she tries to suppress the memories that his now bare torso brings to the surface. What it felt like to drag her tongue along the length of his pale neck, to sink her teeth into his shoulder as he moved within her.

She’s at least glad she decided to wear a swimsuit beneath her clothes again. It’s never quite off the table, here, going for an unexpected swim.

They leave their clothes on a natural shelf of the rocks, far enough away from the tide they think they’ll be safe from the ocean spray, then wade through the low crashing waves until they can comfortably swim parallel to the cliffs.

Eyes peeled for whatever spectacle the Doctor is taking her to, Rose soon spots a curious recess in the cliffside, swallowing up the waves as they crash into the rocks. In the bright light of the sun gleaming off the water, it’s too dark to see inside; it’s just a misshapen black hole. But it looks big enough to swim through without being harmed, even with the roll of the tide. And sure enough, the Doctor is leading them straight for it.

“A cave? Really?”

“It’s not just a cave,” he retorts, indignant. “There’s a whole cave system in there. It contains the metal ores I told you about.”

“All right,” she tries to trust that this excursion won’t be as dank and cold and filthy as she’s imagining. The Doctor hasn’t steered them wrong yet, after all.

They hold their arms up against the rocks as they swim through the entrance, to prevent hitting their heads should a sizeable wave come through.

Once she’s properly inside, shielded from the midday sun, it takes her eyes a moment to adjust to the relative darkness. But when they do, she can immediately see why the Doctor wanted to take her here.

The small entrance opens up into a large pool, maybe fifty feet in diameter, surrounded on all sides by the purple rocks that make up the mountain. Overhead, the ceiling is domed higher than she’d expect, at least ten feet. On the far end of the pool is a shelf of rock that looks perfect for sitting, gentle little swells lapping against its slanted surface. Beyond this, a stony path disappears into the shadows, where she supposes the ‘cave system’ begins.

But none of these things are what make this place spectacular.

The entire surface of the water glows turquoise, projecting an eerie radiance onto the surrounding rocks. With each moment that her eyes grow accustomed to the reduced lighting of the inside, it becomes more spectacular. It reminds her of neon signs, translucent blue jellyfish… the bioluminescent bacteria in that canyon where the Doctor gave her his jacket. The hidden grotto takes on a strangely dreamlike quality, like they’ve crossed into a parallel dimension of fairies and trolls and wizards. (Though realistically, she expects it is actually some unknown physical phenomenon that she hopes the Doctor will explain.) Regardless, she finds herself staring down at her body, ensuring it hasn’t grown scales or fins or something in the luminous water.

Looking back at the Doctor behind her, closer to the entrance, she sees a mere silhouette of his head.

“Bloody brilliant,” she marvels. She’s surprised at how sharply her voice echoes off the close rock walls, and lowers her voice to just above a whisper before she speaks again. “How’s the water glowin’ like this?”

She starts to swim towards the shelf up ahead while he provides an explanation, something about the light traveling through the water, certain wavelengths being filtered out as it travels through the gap in the rocks beneath the surface.

Some parts of the explanation make sense; others are gibberish. But the water around the island has always looked uniquely teal compared to oceans on Earth. The light in here at least seems reflective of that.

She hauls herself up onto the rock shelf, enjoying the way the small waves trickle beneath her thighs and recede again. The view is better from up here, but she’s still puzzled by the water. What he said about the light coming from underneath makes sense, because there’s only the one tiny hole in the rocks illuminating a small patch of the surface; most of the light emanates from the water itself. But even with an explanation, sometimes, it’s easier to stop scrutinizing it and just consider herself lucky to witness something so magical. She’d lump it in the same category as rainbows and meteor showers.

“Thought you’d like it,” the Doctor says as he hops up onto the shelf next to her. He’s more visible now, away from the glaring white spot of the entrance. The light from the turbulent water ripples on his expanse of fair skin, a perfect canvas. Looking down at her own arms and legs, she sees the same is true for her, though perhaps to less of a degree, so she doesn’t comment on it.

“It’s wonderful,” she grins at him, the one she reserves for congratulating him after his obvious attempts to impress her.

He grins back, swishing his legs back and forth in the water with delight.

She’s always thought of caves as damp, cold places, but this one is comfortably warm. The water is like tepid bathwater, as usual, but the inside of the cave has seemed to trap some of the sun’s heat, somehow. Like the inside of a car on a cool sunny day – it’s warmer in here where the air is stagnant than outside in the breeze. It might be stifling in normal circumstances, but since she’s wet from head to toe at the moment, it’s quite a comfortable temperature.

“So what kinds of metals have they got in there”?” she tilts her head back towards the path that leads into a black abyss.

It might be a frightening orifice, if she wasn’t already certain the island had no large animals to speak of. But then again, she’s with the Doctor. The Loch Ness monster could come skulking out of there, and she’d probably just point and laugh as long as she was with him.

The Doctor goes on about the elemental composition of the ores, and how each of them is harvested and used.

Though he’s talking about iron and copper and silver, he’s keeping his voice down to quell the acoustic effect, and it just ends up coming out seductive. She tries to listen to what he’s saying and just stare out at the water, but all she can seem to think is how alone they are, and how close to naked she and the Doctor are. She glances over at him, water still dripping from his hair and beads coasting down his arms and chest. Thinks about how she’d like straddle him right here to lick the droplets from his skin. Taste the salt on his lips. The can of worms opened, her thoughts flit back to earlier this morning, waking up with his arms around her, bodies touching everywhere. His teeth on her neck, fingers on her clit, her bum pillowing the impact as he thrust inside her again and again. The sounds of ecstasy he breathed into her ear as he held onto her so tightly.

Fuck.

She’s done for.

The Doctor continues his monologue for several more agonizing seconds before it hits him, and he gasps lightly as he turns to her, lips parted, his eyes as hungry as they are startled.

She bites her lip, and breaks eye contact as soon as he makes it, but sees him shake his head in her periphery.

“You’re insatiable,” he teases quietly.

At his playful tone, she glances back at him, and he offers a smile to let her know he doesn’t find the observation problematic.

And to her surprise, he’s the one who leans closer to kiss her. His lips are cool and salty, and they move against hers easily with the extra moisture between them. Beads of water trail down her face, from his hair or hers, she doesn’t know. As his hands reach up to cradle her cheeks, the little sparks of lust humming through her are suddenly amplified. A shudder rolls through her body down to her toes as whispers of the Doctor permeate her mind, the charged filaments of his arousal intertwining with hers. Being reminded how quickly and powerfully she can affect him this way only makes matters worse. For years, she struggled to try to discover what could possibly turn the Doctor on, and consistently failed. Now that she knows exactly what she needs to do to get him hot and bothered, and can do it successfully, it’s rather intoxicating.

She’s about to wrap her arms around his neck and simply see where this heated kiss leads them, but remembers they’re technically still in a public place, remote though it is. Reluctantly, she breaks the kiss, panting.

“Want to go?” she breathes, hoping he’s on the same page.

He glances to their only exit.

“Far walk to the hut.”

She narrows her eyes.

“What are you sayin’?”

He arches one eyebrow with a smirk. Quite a devilish one, at that. She didn’t know he had it in him.

“Oh.”

He reunites their mouths, determined to make her forget where they are. His hands quickly find her waist, rubbing droplets of water into her skin with his thumbs. His lips brush leisurely against hers, patiently, like he intends for this to last all night and sees no point in rushing it. He’s focused, too, attentive to her every shift, every tiny noise of contentment in the back of her throat, so he can respond in kind. As persuasive as the Doctor can be with words, he’s even more persuasive without them. With only a few minutes of snogging, he’s nearly convinced her that pleasure is the only thing that matters for the foreseeable future. That he’s here for whatever she wants, indefinitely. She sighs against his mouth and he returns the encouragement, softer, deeper. Pulls her ever closer.

And it almost works. Her mind wanders as she realizes her indecent fantasies from the canoe a few days earlier are being fulfilled, and she’s about to pass up her opportunity to savor it while it lasts. She runs her hands up the length of his torso, smearing the water on his chest beneath her palms, and brings her hands up into his still dripping hair, twisting the slick strands between her fingers. It’s just as good as she could have imagined, if not better.

But one of his hands moves, then, leaving her waist in favor of teasing the inside of her thigh, fingertips brushing slow, irregular circles that draw closer and closer to her center. She shivers in anticipation, clinging onto the back of his neck. His thumb makes contact with the wet fabric of her swimsuit bottoms, and he traces along her slit with caution until he stops and presses in a light circle, just over her clit.

She gasps as she breaks their kiss, shackling his wrist in one hand to pull him away. 

“Are you daft?” She scans quickly around the cave, though she knows there’s not a single soul inside.

“What?” he breathes innocently, pouting a little that she stopped him. His eyes are dark, clouded with lust. “You don’t want me to?”

His mouth shifts carefully down to her neck, and he places a few kisses there, wet and lingering. She leans her head back, wordlessly telling him to continue, and her eyes close with a little moan. Her grip on his wrist weakens, and he gently breaks free of her hold, this time slipping his hand inside her swimsuit. A wet digit slips between her folds, slick and warm with something besides seawater. Her rebuke is lost on her tongue when he grazes her clit properly for the first time, and a shudder ripples through her at the sudden rush of intense sensation.

His lips leave her throat, and his forehead comes to rest against hers. “Hmm,” he breathes out slowly, deeply, though he’s the one being touched. “Feels like you do,” he murmurs. She tilts forward to capture his mouth again, figuring she can let him touch her a few more moments. Just a few more deliberate strokes over her clit is all it would take, really… and maybe if she’s finished fast enough…

He’s a tease, though, moving in the perfect circumference exactly where she needs it, but never giving enough pressure for her to climax. Only for her to beg for more.

Her mouth slips from his and she calls his name, already resorting to begging. It’s louder than she meant. Just loud enough to echo off the walls of the cavern, a tangible reminder of where they are.

“We can’t…” she breathes out. “Someone could…” she doesn’t have to finish her sentence before he stops, his hand retreating. She could cry from the loss of his touch. He opens his eyes, frustration evident on his face.

“There’s no one here,” he reassures her in his quietest, most soothing voice. He looks around briefly if only to humor her. “Today’s not a mining day.”

Clit still throbbing with need, she considers his words. Bites her lip. Wanting more than anything to give in.

“We’re alone.” He peppers kisses down her neck again. Over her collarbone. “And if someone were coming, I’d hear them before they could see us.” He pulls back her bikini, and before she can stop him, swirls his tongue hot around her breast. Taking her nipple gently between his teeth, he flicks his tongue just there, and she gasps.

“You sure?” she asks, but she’s already made up her mind.

“Yes,” he assures her, only pausing his ministrations briefly.

He continues in this manner for several moments, and her head spins as she succumbs to it. The throbs of pleasure with every swipe of his tongue radiate down to her center. Planting her hands on the rock, she leans back on her arms, letting her head fall back, allowing herself a little moan. Fantasies flit through her mind, imagining his tongue lower on her body. Guiding her to a climax with the exceptional focus and precision signature to her Doctor.

The Doctor suddenly groans, and releases her breast with a shudder.

“What is it?” she asks, crushed that he stopped.

“Mmf…” he tries to stifle another groan as he sits up straight, meeting her eyes. He suddenly looks nothing short of desperate. “What were you just thinking about?”

She flushes from head to toe.

Did he just…?

“Why?” she asks, merely to buy herself time, because she’s already fairly confident of the answer.

“I, uhm… felt a particularly… strong pulse of, er… excitement just then.”

Yep, as she suspected. Damn, he said this thing between them would keep getting stronger, but she wasn’t prepared for it to betray her this fast. She can’t possibly tell him the truth. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours that they’ve been intimately involved, and it seems like the sort of thing that only happens after a few months of the basics. At least, that’s what it’s always been like with other blokes. And even then, it was always too rough and slobbery for her to ever finish that way. She isn’t sure why she’s fantasizing about something that’s never been particularly successful.

She just has a feeling it would be different with the Doctor. That he’ll know how to make it feel good, or learn quickly if he doesn’t.

The Doctor grunts out her name, his face contorting with restraint as he grips onto her waist. For a moment she feels quite powerful, having the ability to make him squirm like this. “Please, tell me. I’d like to know what you want.”

“I was…” She swallows hard, potential explanations dying in her throat. She’s holding him to principles of honesty, though, and she should hold herself to similar standards.

“I really like your mouth,” she blurts out.

Okay, it’s a start.

“Yeah?” His resulting smile is one she’s seen variations of a hundred times before – the hallmark of masculine pride.

“Yeah,” she can’t help but smirk back a little at his elation. “I was thinkin’… what it’d be like if you…” She bites her lip, then slowly nods down to her legs.

His eyebrows shoot up as he realizes what she means. Then his smile grows even wider.

“Well,” he draws out the word seductively. His eyes are well and sparkling with pride now. “I’d like that very much.”

“Yeah?” she asks, throat dry.

“Oh, yes.”

He brings his mouth to hers again, with a sense of impatience and urgency that’s unusual for him. The kiss is over quickly, though, and before she can voice any reluctance, he’s kissing his way down her chest. He twists around as he sinks into the water slowly, his mouth on a determined path down her stomach, his intentions clear. When he reaches the hem of her swimsuit bottoms, he pulls back, hooking his thumbs under the skimpy thing, looking up for assistance. With a few awkward maneuvers, she manages to help him get it down past her bum, and he pulls it the rest of the way down, freeing her of the garment one ankle at a time. With another devious look, he pulls it out of the water and hands it to her, still dripping. She takes it with a roll of her eyes, and drops it on the rock next to her. The Doctor skims both hands down the inside of her thighs, coaxing them to open for him, and he sinks lower into the water as he nestles between her legs.

Staying afloat with one of his forearms resting on the rock just beside her leg, he hooks his other arm under her knee, creating even more room for himself. There’s certainly no hiding from him now, nor time to be shy. He turns his head, pressing warm, wet kisses to the inside of her thigh, occasionally nipping with his teeth, swiping his tongue for a taste. Slowly getting closer to where she’s aching for him. It’s almost painful how slowly he moves, her heart galloping in her chest while pleading sounds fall from her lips for him to just touch her. She’s about to sacrifice her last shred of dignity and properly beg him to get on with it, but then he’s there.

It’s just the tip of his tongue, at first, pushing into her slit until it’s cushioned between her folds, near her entrance. She gasps at the delicate pleasure it brings, and holds her breath, waiting. Slowly, he pushes forward, the flat of his tongue slowly spreads her folds apart. Warm and so wet, slick and perfectly rough at the same time, he licks a slow, deliberate line, tasting.

She can already tell this is going to be very different from previous attempts.

A cry of his name tells him he’s found her most sensitive spot, and he lingers there with a deep hum of victory. The tension she’s holding to try to conceal herself melts away, and slings her leg over his shoulder to free his other arm as he continues his exploration, tentative and curious. Just enough pressure to make her lift her hips in search of more, not so much that he risks desensitization.

How is he good at literally everything he does?

She reckons this can’t be his first time doing this properly, with the developed skill he clearly possesses, and the stab of jealousy makes her dig her heel into his back. She reaches a hand down to his hair, fingers combing through it before she clenches her fist, tugging him closer with gentle persistence. Claiming him for her own.

She has never cared to watch this – always thought it was messy, awkward, and an unwelcome reminder of how intensely vulnerable she was. But right now she can’t tear her eyes away. His own are closed, too focused on other senses to be distracted by sight. He has that same look that he has when he’s concentrating on something intricate; though she can’t see his eyes, she’d recognize it anywhere. It’s the same look he had when he was fixing the watch in the arms closet. When he’s got his glasses on, trying to decipher minuscule text. Handling something fragile as he tries to identify what it is. He’s analyzing. Studying. And he’s enjoying every second of it.

He doesn’t mindlessly employ a method he has predetermined to be best, but attunes himself to her signals. He persists when she’s vocal, changes tactics when she goes quiet. Lets his technique be guided by her movements, whether encouraging or cautioning. She loses herself in the intimate attention of his mouth, and shortly runs out of energy to keep herself upright. Slowly, she sinks back until her bare back hits the wet rock. She can’t watch him anymore, and something hard juts into the back of her head, but she doesn’t care. She can hardly feel any of it, anyway. Can hardly feel anything but the persistent caresses of his tongue between soft, wet lips. Her cries begin to echo in the watery chamber, but, every jarring, embarrassing moment that her own voice pierces the air is quickly soothed away by the Doctor’s mouth.

The only thing he won’t allow her to control is his pace. He gently rebukes her when she pursues more, slowing down when she whispers ‘please’, pulling back altogether to leave marks on the inside of her thigh when she becomes desperate enough to rock her hips up against his face.

But it isn’t long, a minute later, at most, before his lesson in delayed gratification pays off. The climax builds from deep in her bones. Pleasure pulses to life with every stroke between her legs, slowly spreading its roots, blossoming through her body, warm, tingling, shivering. Her toes curl even as her limbs turn to jelly. It all finally reaches a spectacular peak and she writhes against the hard ground, her hand fisting in the Doctor’s hair. It’s too much to hold in, and she shouts her praise, the fact that they’re in a cave with extraordinary acoustics once again completely forgotten. Startled by the volume of her own voice echoing around them over and over, she slaps a hand over her mouth, gasping for breath as she tries to keep quiet. Lifting her hips to his willing tongue, she holds him fast with her leg around his shoulder as he carries her through it, extending the pleasure as long as he can with slower, softer motions.

As the last waves of her orgasm fade, the Doctor groans deep and long against her, his tongue faltering in its rhythm, making her shudder with overstimulation. His head lolls against her thigh as he pulls back, panting against her skin.

She thinks he hear him mumble the word ‘fuck’, but it’s so quiet she can’t be certain.

The Doctor very rarely curses, and for a moment, Rose panics. Perhaps he didn’t enjoy it after all, and it was but a chore he wishes he hadn’t done.

It takes her a moment to come down from the hormone high to process the other clues he’d provided, and soon arrives at a more savory theory.

She sits up, and winces as the change in position alerts her to several tender spots on her bum and back. Oof. She’s sure to have bruises tomorrow.

“Did you just come, too?” she asks, staring down at him with a hint of a smile.

He sighs against her leg and finally looks up at her, sheepish.

“Straight into the water.”

She laughs, and, affronted, he leaps back up onto his spot next to her, stopping her laughter with his mouth.

“I must be good,” she teases when their lips finally part.

“You are.” He whispers something in his unfamiliar tongue, something that sounds vaguely like a curse, but is almost too beautiful to be anything profane. “I was about to lose my mind. Tasting you. Feeling you. I had to…” He pauses, flustered. “Relieve myself.”

Rose is rendered nearly speechless by this confession, but tries to reassure him.

“Right. S’okay.” She tries not to burst into flames imagining it. She hadn’t known he was playing with himself, but desperately wishes she had. Blimey.

“You should’ve told me, though,” she adds. “I would’ve made you come up here so we could, y’know… help each other at the same time.”

“That’s just it, Rose. I couldn’t stop. It was…” He hesitates again, like he may be about to confess something else. “You were driving me mad.” She thinks that isn’t the whole story, but leaves it be. She’s been on the receiving end of something like this, and vividly remembers how overwhelming the urge was to touch herself during it. She can hardly blame him. Nor expect him to delve into details of how he got himself off, the same way she wouldn’t want him to expect it of her.

“But now you’ve gone and soiled the water on this beautiful island,” she makes a joke out of it, mostly so she doesn’t climb on top of him and have her way with him again right now.

“At least it isn’t the drinking water.” He shrugs, and kisses her again.

With so much bare, wet skin touching, and Rose’s bottoms still lost somewhere behind her, they almost get carried away again. Hands wander, little moans fill the small cave. Somehow, she ends up on her back again, the Doctor hovering above her. Rose is just beginning to feel his erection rekindling against her thigh when a noise startles them apart.

A quiet, but ferocious growl echoes through the chamber from somewhere deeper within the cave.

The Doctor clambers off her, leaps to his feet, and swiftly positions himself between her and the maw of the cave, reaching into his pocket for the screwdriver before settling back on his haunches. He reaches around for her bottoms, scoops them up with his index finger, and hands them to Rose. Eyes glued to the darkness before him, he flicks a few settings on the screwdriver until he can shine the light towards it, illuminating the first few meters of the abyss. What they can see is simply more of the same, a roughly cylindrical tunnel of purple rocks.

Once she has her swimsuit on properly again, she gets to her feet and wraps her arms around one of the Doctor’s.

“What was it, a dog or something?” she whispers as quietly as she can, stifling the dread rising in her gut. It’s a stupid question, and she knows it. But she needs the Doctor to think out loud. To tell her what he’s thinking.

“There are no dogs here,” he responds coldly, quieter than she had managed. “No mammals larger than a rabbit. Certainly nothing capable of growling.”

They stare down the darkness for a few long moments, waiting for the unseen creature to repeat itself, but nothing happens.

“We should go,” Rose suggests.

“Whatever it is, it could put the Kaelondaians in danger,” the Doctor counters, with clearly no intention whatsoever of heeding this advice. “You can wait here, though, if you like. I’ll shout if you need to run.” He turns to her with a twitch of his mouth that’s almost a smirk, knowing how unlikely it is for her to take that option.

“Yeah, right.”

They pad slowly down the cave, and Rose is thankful that their lack of footwear lends them an unusually quiet passage. If not for the light rustling of the Doctor’s shorts and Rose’s loud human lungs, they might be completely silent, at least to her ears. The Doctor is on alert like a police hound, every sense hyper-aware for cues of danger. He’d be the first to hear or see something anyway (or even smell it, she thinks). She doesn’t say anything as they continue down the way, not wanting to distract him.

Aside from the occasional shimmering pockets of metals in the rock, the route is monotonous. Rose wants to ask how much longer he intends to follow down the endless path, but figures he’ll tell her when it’s a lost cause.

It’s still strangely warm inside the tunnel, like all the sun’s heat is trapped in here as it shines every day on the island above, nowhere to escape. It’s curiously circular, too, as though purposely carved by people, rather than formed naturally by the water, and she realizes it probably was. This is basically a mine, after all, and the Kaelondaians continue to surprise her with their skills for innovation. They hit two forks in the road, but the Doctor barely pauses at either of them, only taking a short moment to emit a sound from the sonic, and make a decision whether it’s the path he wants to follow.

As they continue on, the sound does not recur. If there were a real threat, she thinks they’d have encountered it by now, and Rose’s anxiety dwindles as time goes on. The Doctor’s seems to, as well.

“We’re about to hit a dead end,” the Doctor says, still quietly, but nothing like the fearful whisper of before. “Nothing here.” He sounds disappointed, like he was hoping this investigation would finally yield some answers to the mysteries they’ve encountered here.

“We can check the other paths?” Rose offers, and she’s surprised at herself. She thought she wanted to get the hell out of this haunted cave. But she supposes no small part of her was looking forward to some adrenaline-filled adventure, too.

“They were dead ends, too. Not more than ten, twenty meters deep.”

“All right then. Should we head ba –”

Before she can finish her sentence, the end of the tunnel comes into view in the pale blue light of the sonic. Rose sucks in a harsh breath and covers her hand with her mouth.

Scratched violently into the cave wall in crude handwriting are two familiar words:

  BAD WOLF

 Rose’s heart stops in her chest. Her stomach turns sickeningly.

It can’t be.

Neither of them moves or speaks for several long moments, both of them in shock, entranced by the menacing writing. Fear and confusion reverberate between them, compounding the sensations.

When she finally turns to the Doctor, his eyebrows are sunk low over his eyes, his jaw clenched. Rose doesn’t ever want the Doctor to be afraid, but she finds herself selfishly glad that she can discern his true feelings now. If she didn’t know better, she might think the only emotion he was feeling now was anger, the way he’s giving the cave scribblings a full-on Oncoming Storm glare. It’s reassuring to learn that deep down, they operate more similarly than she thought; even if it manifests in vastly different ways on the surface. Comforting that maybe humans and Time Lords aren’t as different as the Doctor wants people to believe.

“That’s impossible,” he finally breaths, stepping closer to the wall.

He reaches a hand out to stroke his finger across the letter ‘W’. Finding it real enough, his arm recoils, and he steps back again, only to adjust the sonic and wave it around the letters, analyzing the rock. He flicks through several settings in rapid succession, compiling as much data as he can. But all of these assessments seem to yield nothing of import. He growls in frustration when he runs out of settings to try, and runs a hand through his still-damp hair, making it stand on end.

“What’s this mean?” Rose asks gently, unsure if he’s through brainstorming or not.

“I don’t know,” he rushes out, directing his anger at the stone face rather than at her. “There’s no trace of anything here, no residual energy, radiation, abnormal elemental residue, nothing alien at all.”

“What then, one of the blokes here playin’ a trick on us?” She doubts that’s it, but doesn’t have any other ideas.

“Have you told any of them about this?” he asks rhetorically, knowing the answer.

“No,” she admits.

“Besides, this wasn’t written in Kaelondaian and translated by the TARDIS. It’s carved in English.”

“Who else here knows English?”

“No one,” he says on a sigh. “They’ve never had extraterrestrial visitors, save for us.”

A chill runs down Rose’s spine.

She takes a moment to compose herself.

“So, what then, end of the world? Daleks? Destruction of the universe?”

He’s silent for a few beats, shaking his head, and some of his fear starts to show through. His eyes betray him.

“I don’t know.” He sounds defeated.

They stand there a bit longer, both unsure of what else they can ask, or what they can do to reassure one another. In the past, this has only meant imminent catastrophe.

But eventually Rose can’t take the silence anymore, and being in the vicinity of the ominous writing is making her feel physically ill.

“Well, starin’ at it’s not gonna do much,” she suggests quietly, rubbing his arm. “Why don’t we head back?” When he doesn’t respond, she suggests a plan of her own. “Do a bit of explorin’, see if there are any other clues ‘round the island?”

He reaches his hand out to thread his fingers with hers, but it takes him a few moments to answer. Still staring at the words, his mind visibly racing.

“Yeah.”

He nods and lets Rose lead them back out of the cave.