#sorry i’m sorry i just stumbled across this in my camera roll and looked at it for so long

[denkisauce]

it’s 2 am and i know it’s been so long but i’m still so struck by this panel 😭😭 he’s CRYING and not like angry frustrated fleeting tears like in the past he’s Crying crying he’s realizing he KNOWS he knowssss he knows what’s about to happen he knows what he’s about to do he knows dekus not there he knows what’s about to happen hes realizing ahhhhhh he’s Crying,,,,,,,,,

[crushpunky]

drew and actress!reader take the “rizz quiz”

masterlist | actress!reader masterlist

this was requested and i actually hadn’t heard of this before, but i did some research (especially jd and carlacia’s video) and voila. slightly suggestive ending, but enjoy <3

“I’m y/n y/ln.” Y/n grinned.

“And I’m Drew Starkey, and we’re here with BuzzFeed to see how much ‘rizz’ we have.” Drew said, cringing slightly and looking over at y/n with a giggle.

“How much ‘rizz’ would you say you have, Starkey?” Y/n asked with a smirk, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she looked up at Drew.

“Oh jeez, I don’t know… medium? I have medium rizz? Is that how you say it? What do you think?” Drew chuckled nervously, peering down at y/n.

“I don’t know… I think you’re pretty charming.” Y/n giggled.

Stage 1: Rizz 101

“Give us your best pickup line.” Drew read, turning to y/n with a raise of his eyebrows.

“Ooh ok…” Y/n chewed her bottom lip in thought.

“It’s been a while.” Drew clarified to the camera, causing y/n to shoot him a playful glare.

“Oh, I’ve got one: do you have a map? Because I just got lost in your eyes.” Y/n batted her eyes at the camera. A smile spread across Drew’s face, his cheeks flushing a bright red.

“Ok, ok.” Drew chuckled, rubbing his hand along his jaw as he thought. “Oh I’ve got something to say… damn I must’ve forgotten it, the words left me…”

Y/n tried her best to hold back her laughs as Drew shook his head, in “frustration”.

“... I think it’s ‘cause you made me absolutely speechless.” Drew said, pulling the line home with a smirk. Y/n fanned herself off, letting out a low breath, causing Drew to laugh, hitting her gently with his hip.

“Drop a thirst comment under your crush’s post.” Y/n read.

“I just like to put the like… sweating emoji.” Drew said. “Sometimes the words just… don’t come when you see somebody looking like this.”

Drew grabbed y/n’s hand, taking a step back to show her off. With a bashful giggle, y/n spun around, dramatically striking a pose. Drew’s eyes scanned over her, biting his lip as he took in her beautiful features under the bright, studio lights. The curve of her hips, the smoothness of her skin, the glint of her eyes brought a smile to his face.

“Ok, rizz master, let’s get back to the game… what was the question?” Y/n said with a giggle.

“Thirst comment. You usually have some pretty good ones.” Drew teased.

“Ah yes… sometimes I go with just a simple ‘hot’ or like ‘oh my god’,” y/n explained. “Or sometimes I kinda like to write a paragraph really just explaining the… thought process.”

“Truly a professional and very talented thirst commenter.” Drew laughed, his hand resting on the small of y/n’s back.

Stage 2: Performance

“Charm this skeleton.” Y/n said, gesturing to the skeleton standing opposite them.

“Ladies first.” Drew grinned. Y/n approached the skeleton, running a hand down the skeleton’s arm with an embarrassed giggle.

“Hey… I just wanted to come over and say that you are absolutely glowing.” Y/n said bashfully, grabbing the skeleton’s hand. Drew moved to cover his mouth with his hand, a nervous grin on his lips.

“Like I just felt so drawn to you; your hair, your skin, your makeup, your eyes… I mean truly, you’re just stunning.” Y/n bit her lip, glancing over the skeleton.

“I was wondering if you wanted to maybe get a drink or something? Maybe we could… get to know each other a bit better.” Y/n batted her eyelashes before dropping its hand and turning to the camera with a laugh. Y/n walked back over to Drew, shaking her head in embarrassment. Drew removed the hand from his mouth, his jaw tense.

“Drew Starkey, are you jealous of a plastic skeleton?” Y/n teased, squeezing his bicep playfully. Drew shook his head with a bashful and guilty smile on his face.

“Hey, don’t judge until it’s your turn to watch.” Drew rolled his eyes, keeping his eyes on y/n as he sauntered backwards towards the skeleton. With an exaggerated stumble, he ran into the skeleton.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry—” Drew started, resting his hand on the skeleton’s spine as he straightened himself out, giving the skeleton the classic up-down. Y/n giggled, trying her best not to interrupt.

“Um, wow, I wasn’t expecting to bump into such a… stunning young skeleton tonight.” Drew chuckled, keeping himself locked into the scene.

“Yeah, I mean, I guess it’s just… fate we stumbled into each other… maybe we could see what the cards hold, hmm?” Drew smirked, doing his best to stifle a laugh, causing y/n to giggle and then the both of them to devolve into laughter.

“This is so stupid.” Drew said under his breath, his cheeks flushed as he returned to his spot next to y/n. Y/n didn’t say anything, just grinned up at him before proceeding to the next challenge.

“Now this is one I can totally get behind: what’s your go-to dance move?” Y/n raised her eyebrows, starting to move her shoulders a bit, Drew joining her as the two of them swayed side to side.

“We get any music?” Drew asked playfully before moving to rest his hands on y/n’s waist. The two of them shook their hips side to side, y/n dancing with her arms up as the two of them danced in silence. Drew took one of y/n’s hands, spinning her around, the two of them dancing hand in hand. Y/n took a step back, Drew continuing to shimmy his shoulders with a cheesy smile on his face.

“And you’ve of course gotta do the old fashioned…” y/n said, casting an imaginary fishing line at Drew. Drew “caught” it, jumping forward as y/n reeled him in until finally capturing her in a hug, the two of them laughing.

Stage 3: Unspoken Rizz

“Give us your best walk,” Y/n read with a quirk of her eyebrows. “Alright, take it away Mr Loewe.”

Drew shook his head, his cheeks blushing as he got into position. With a quick, deep breath, Drew started his best “model walk”, winking teasingly for the camera before walking back towards y/n. She could feel her stomach flutter as he found his place next to her, his hand resting on her back.

“Let’s see it, baby.” Drew grinned, taking a step back. Biting her lip, y/n walked forward, her hands smoothing down her sides as her heels clicked against the floor. She stopped in front of the camera, swaying her hips side to side, which earned a low whistle from Drew as she turned back towards him. Y/n felt her cheeks warm as she elbowed him lightly before stopping to rest her head on his shoulder.

“Ok, who smells the best.” Drew read, casting a quick look down at y/n. Lifting her head up, y/n took a quick smell of Drew’s neck before turning back to the camera.

“Drew smells like…” Y/n chewed her lip, “it’s like vanilla, smoky, cashmere— I don’t know how to describe it, but it’s definitely good.”

With a quick grin, Drew leaned down, his nose brushing gently against the sensitive spot behind y/n’s ear that caused her eyes to flutter slightly. Sensing her flustered expression, Drew leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against her neck before pulling away with a smirk.

“Yeah she smells good.” Drew giggled, y/n rolling her eyes.

“The people need details, Starkey.” Y/n teased, hitting her hip against Drew lightly.

“I– You just smell like you,” Drew said. “Like a nice, autumn afternoon, sat inside with a candle, just sort of lounging and laughing. That’s what you smell like. A nice, autumn afternoon.”

“Can you tell he’s an English major?” Y/n grinned.

“Alright, alright,” Drew blushed, “next challenge: stare into the camera for 10 seconds.”

Y/n stepped forward, straightening her posture before staring into the camera with her best sultry gaze. Tossing her hair back, y/n bit her lip before stepping back towards Drew.

“Let’s see those icy blues, baby.” Y/n said as Drew stepped forwards for his turn. Soothing a quick hand through his hair, Drew’s gaze landed on the camera. Y/n looked past him at the monitor, feeling herself get lost in Drew’s eyes before he moved back to stand next to her. As the challenges had gone on, she had unexpectedly found herself getting more and more flustered by Drew’s flirty attitude, a heat growing more and more unbearable in her cheeks.

“That’s it! How do you think you did?” Drew read, his hand snaking around y/n’s waist and pulling her flush to his side.

“I’m not sure about my performance, but I certainly feel pretty ‘rizzed up’.” Y/n bit her lip, staring up at Drew, his eyes already on her.

“Is that so?” Drew quirked an eyebrow, his tone teasing as his fingers traced the small of y/n’s back as she nodded. Reluctantly, y/n tore her gaze from Drew’s, focusing back on the camera despite the way her head spun.

“Well, thank you for having us and allowing us to demonstrate our rizz abilities.” Y/n said, waving to the camera. Drew joined her, his smile wide, until the cameras cut.

“We don’t have any interviews after this, right?” Drew whispered, his tongue darting out to slide across his bottom lip in a way that made y/n’s stomach flutter.

“Yup.” Y/n grinned up at him, her eyes lingering on the curve of Drew’s lips.

“Good. Let’s go.” Drew pressed a kiss to the top of y/n’s head before grabbing her by the hand, the two of them darting out of the studio and hoping to quickly find a spot where they could really put their “rizz” to use.

[scoupsakakitty]

could you write idol! jeonghan meeting y/n for the first time and scoups noticing that jeonghan is in love at first sight ??? ty ty luv it blog <3

Coffee Shop | idol!Jeonghan x Influencer!Reader | fluff

The small coffee shop was a welcome escape from the bustling streets of Seoul. The warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee mixed with the faint scent of vanilla and cinnamon, creating a cozy atmosphere. Y/N sat by the window, her laptop open in front of her as she edited her latest vlog. She had always loved quiet places like this—somewhere she could focus, unwind, and just be herself.

Her fingers danced across the keyboard, occasionally pausing as she sipped on her iced latte. She was deep in concentration, completely unaware of the group of young men who had just entered the café.

Seventeen had just finished practice, exhausted yet eager to recharge with their favorite drinks. Jeonghan, as usual, was more focused on finding the most comfortable seat than ordering a drink, but something—someone—caught his attention.

Seungcheol noticed it instantly. The way Jeonghan’s gaze lingered on the girl by the window, how his normally relaxed posture straightened slightly, and how his expression softened into something almost… mesmerized.

“She’s even prettier in person,” Jeonghan mumbled, mostly to himself.

Seungcheol smirked. “You should talk to her.”

Jeonghan scoffed, tearing his gaze away. “Why would I do that?”

“Because you’ve been staring at her for a solid minute.”

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t deny the pull he felt. He knew who she was, of course. Y/N was a well-known influencer, popular for her travel vlogs, fashion sense, and down-to-earth personality. Despite her massive following, she always seemed approachable. Still, approaching her was another thing entirely.

Seungcheol, always the instigator, grinned mischievously before nudging Mingyu. “Watch this.”

Before Jeonghan could stop him, Seungcheol took a deliberate step toward Y/N’s table, pretending to stumble as his iced Americano sloshed over the rim and onto the floor right near her.

Y/N looked up in surprise as the commotion unfolded beside her. “Oh!”

Seungcheol immediately put on his best apologetic face. “Ah, I’m so sorry! That was totally my fault.”

She laughed lightly, waving a hand dismissively. “No worries, accidents happen.”

And just like that, Jeonghan found himself standing next to her table, feeling oddly nervous. Y/N looked up at him, recognition flickering in her eyes. “Jeonghan, right?”

He blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Uh—yeah.”

Y/N smiled, resting her chin in her palm. “I love your group’s music.”

Jeonghan, usually quick with words, found himself at a rare loss. “Thanks. And I, uh—I like your content.”

She raised a brow. “Really?”

Seungcheol, now thoroughly enjoying himself, nudged Jeonghan. “He watches your videos all the time.”

Jeonghan shot Seungcheol a glare before turning back to Y/N. “I watch them occasionally,” he corrected, though the warmth in his ears betrayed him.

Y/N chuckled, tapping a few keys on her laptop before closing it. “That’s cool. I didn’t expect an idol to have time to watch vlogs.”

Jeonghan, now regaining his composure, slid into the empty seat across from her. “Sometimes we need an escape, too.”

Seungcheol smirked before excusing himself, leaving Jeonghan and Y/N alone.

“What are you working on?” Jeonghan asked, nodding toward her laptop.

“Editing a new vlog,” she replied, tilting the screen slightly so he could see. “It’s from my last trip to Paris.”

Jeonghan leaned in, genuinely intrigued. The footage showed a montage of Y/N exploring the city, trying different pastries, and laughing at the camera as she attempted to order in French.

“You make it look fun,” he commented.

“That’s the goal,” she said, smiling. “Traveling isn’t just about fancy locations—it’s about experiences.”

Jeonghan tilted his head, watching her with interest. “You really love what you do, don’t you?”

She nodded. “I do. And you?”

He chuckled, leaning back. “Most days, yeah. Some days are exhausting, but when I see fans enjoying our music, it makes it worth it.”

Their conversation flowed effortlessly, as if they had known each other for years rather than just meeting for the first time. Jeonghan found himself completely at ease in her presence, a rare occurrence for someone who usually kept his walls up.

As their drinks dwindled and the evening stretched on, Y/N checked the time. “Wow, I didn’t realize how late it was.”

Jeonghan followed her gaze to the clock and sighed. “Yeah, time flies when you’re talking to someone interesting.”

Y/N laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Smooth.”

He grinned. “I try.”

Before she could gather her things, Jeonghan spoke up. “Can I see you again?”

Y/N paused, then smiled. “I’d like that.”

Seungcheol, who had been watching from afar, smirked as he saw Jeonghan scribble something on a napkin and slide it toward Y/N. As they left the café, Seungcheol patted Jeonghan’s shoulder. “Told you so.”

Jeonghan simply smiled to himself, already looking forward to their next meeting.

[linos-luna]

Cameras 🔪

Yandere!Han x Reader

Warnings: YANDERE, violence, toxic behavior, manipulation, spying, 18+

———————————————— •

You sit at your desk, staring down at the open notebook, your fingers tracing its edges, but your mind is somewhere else. The house is quiet, a little too quiet, and that familiar, uneasy feeling creeps over you again. Lately, it’s like someone’s been watching you, even when you’re sure you’re alone.

You try to shake it off, just like you’ve done every other time, telling yourself it’s nothing. But deep down, you know it’s not just paranoia. The little things have been adding up. Your stuff is always out of place, your jewelry box lid half open, a photo frame slightly crooked. And Han… well, you had mentioned it to him once, but he brushed it off.

"You're stressed, Y/N," he had said with that charming smile. "You need to relax."

That smile you love. Now it just feels off.

Your eyes drift to your bedside lamp. Something flashes, just for a second, but you see it. You sit up, heart skipping a beat as you reach for the lamp. Unscrewing the lampshade, you freeze when you see it. A tiny, blinking red light. A camera.

What the hell??

Your pulse quickens as you stare at the small device in your hand. Why is there a camera here? Who put it here?

But you already know. You just don’t want to believe it.

Your breath comes in short gasps as you tear through your room. Behind the framed pictures, inside the air vents, even inside your stuffed bear. More cameras. Everywhere.

You feel sick. How long has this been happening? How much has Han seen?

Without thinking, you grab your phone and dial Han. The anger in your voice barely masks the fear. “Han, we need to talk. Now.”

It doesn’t take him long to show up. His face is full of concern—or is it something darker? You can’t tell anymore.

“What’s going on?” he asks, stepping inside like nothing’s wrong. Like he hasn’t been invading every second of your life.

You hold up the camera, your hand trembling. “Why are there cameras in my room?”

For a split second, something flickers in his eyes. And then, just like that, his mask drops. The concern fades, and what’s left makes your stomach twist.

“I did it to protect you,” he says softly, stepping closer. “You don’t understand. I need to know you’re safe.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. You want to scream, to cry, but all that comes out is cold, hard disbelief. "This isn’t protection, Han. This is control."

His eyes darken, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "You don’t get to walk away from me."

Your body tenses as he steps closer, too close. His hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist before you can react. Pain surges through your arm as his grip tightens.

“You’re mine, Y/N,” he growls, his breath hot against your face. “No one else will take care of you like I do. You don’t get to leave me.”

A wave of panic crashes over you, but underneath it, anger is building. You twist your wrist, trying to pull free, but his grip only tightens. The pressure makes your vision blur with tears.

“No, Han…” Your voice trembling with fury. “Y-you’re sick!”

Without thinking, you drive your knee up into his stomach, hard.

He lets out a grunt, doubling over just enough for you to yank your arm free. You stumble back, heart pounding, adrenaline flooding your system. But then Han straightens, his face twisting with rage.

Before you can react, his hand swings out, slapping you across the cheek. Pain stinging in your face, knocking you off balance. You crash into the dresser, books and other nicknacks scattering to the floor. Tears rolled down your cheeks as you whimpered a bit in pain.

He’s standing over you now, breathing heavily, his fists clenched, but then something shifts in his expression. His eyes soften, a flicker of regret passing over his face as he takes in your terrified look.

“Baby, I’m sorry!” Han pleads, his voice breaking. “Don’t cry, please! I-I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

The room spins as you force yourself up, your legs trembling beneath you. Your hand brushes against the dresser, and you grab the nearest thing, a heavy lamp. Without a second thought, you throw it at him.

It misses, crashing into the wall behind him, but Han still flinches, staggering back as he dodges. His eyes widen, and for a moment, you see hurt flicker there.

“Y/N? W-why are you trying to hurt me?” His voice trembles, and you pause, your heart pounding in your chest.

“You’re the one getting violent!” you shout, the words tearing from your throat.

For a split second, he looks like he’s about to cry, and something inside you twists painfully. He just stands there, staring at you with those sad, broken eyes, making your heart ache.

He’s manipulating you. You know it, you *know* it, but that pang of guilt creeps in anyway. You have to shake it off.

“Stop it, Han. It’s not working. Not this time.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the softness drains from his face. The mask drops, revealing the cold, eerie calm underneath.

“Y/N…” he says, his voice unnervingly steady. “You know I love you. Everything I do is because I love you.” He takes a step closer, his eyes darkening. “And I’ll do anything for you.”

Han’s words hang in the air, thick and suffocating. His eerie calm sends a chill down your spine, but your legs won’t move. His eyes bore into yours, dark and unwavering, and you realize with a sickening jolt that there’s no reasoning with him. He’s beyond that now.

You back up slowly, your heart pounding in your chest. “Han… stay away from me.”

But he doesn’t listen. Instead, he takes another step toward you, his voice lowering into something soft, almost tender. “I’m the only one who can protect you, Y/N. Don’t you see? No one else will love you the way I do.”

You feel the wall press against your back, cold and unyielding. There’s nowhere else to go.

“Please, Han,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Don’t do this.”

For a moment, his face softens again, but you know it’s a lie, just like before. He closes the distance between you in two long strides, grabbing your arms and pinning you against the wall. His grip is bruising, his breath hot and uneven as he leans in, his eyes glinting with something dangerous.

“Why can’t you just be mine?” he whispers harshly, his fingers digging into your skin. “Why do you have to make this so hard?”

Panic surges through you, but your body feels frozen. You struggle against his hold, but he’s too strong. His hands move to your throat, not tightening, but just enough to make you realize how helpless you are in that moment.

Your vision blurs with tears as you gasp for air, your body trembling under his hold. This is it, you think. It’s the end. You close your eyes in defeat, bracing for the inevitable as his hands apply light pressure to your throat.

But then, just as quickly as it started, the pressure eases. You blink in confusion, feeling his grip loosen. When you open your eyes, Han’s expression has changed… his face etched with guilt, sadness pooling in his eyes.

“Baby…” he whispers softly, his hands still hovering at your throat, but no longer squeezing.

Your heart pounds in your chest as you watch him look down at his own hands, as if seeing them for the first time. Tears start to roll down his cheeks, silent and slow, before he suddenly pulls you into a tight embrace.

“I-I’m sorry…” he sobs, his voice breaking.

His arms wrap around you, almost crushing you against him, and the sudden shift feels jarring. You can hear him weeping, his breath catching between sobs. The warmth of his body, the way he clings to you, it's so different from the rage that had consumed him moments ago.

You stand frozen, your body still shaking, unsure of what to do. Was this another trick? Another way to manipulate you, to pull you back into his control? Or… was he actually genuine this time?

It was hard to tell, and that terrified you the most...

[thepixelelf]

warnings: coarse language, violence, broken bones, fire. superhero au. wc: 1.8k

love triangle au requests

[trio and error] You climb up the arm and past the shoulder of the elemental, then use that momentum to throw a sharp punch into its stone jaw. Under nanotech gloves, your hand smarts with a sharp, pulsing ache — even with the glove’s reinforced knuckles. “Ow, fuck,” you curse, shaking your hand out like that’ll make the pain go away. “I’m thinking ramen.”

Junhui’s mic input crackles in your in-ear. “You’re always thinking ramen. Watch your head—”

You duck out of the way just as the monster swings its giant arm over you. “Look, I’m also open to sushi.” It throws another punch. “Or katsudon.” The huge fist you dodged lodges into the shattered concrete, and you use the moment it’s stuck to jump up to the monster's head again. “Or katsu-curry don.” Looping yourself around the elemental’s neck, you try to topple it to the ground with no such luck. “Or oyakodon— shit.” It flings you off. You hit the ground and skid across the concrete enough for your nanotech suit to start to burn hot. “Ough. Or soba.”

“Are you okay?” Junhui asks, unconvinced by your nonchalance. You’re sure his eyes are on every one of his monitors, from the ones showing the fight through drone cameras to the one displaying your vitals via your supersuit.

“Peachy,” you grunt at him as you stand up and glare down the monster. You hate the tough, stubborn ones. “How do you feel about gyoza?”

“You’re literally only naming Japanese food.”

“Well I don’t hear you coming up with anything.”

Junhui scoffs. “Because I know we’re just gonna get what you want anyway.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying we— left, left!”

You whip your head around, and your eyes widen as a giant stone fist hurtles your way. “Oh, shit.”

A flash of orange fire, three claws of it, fills your vision as your partner pounces on the monster’s arm in a burst of flame. He knocks its attack off course just enough for you to tumble out of the way. Luckily for you, Junhui designed your suit to be just as fireproof as your partner’s, considering how often you’re scary close to Tigerstar’s attacks. It’s still hot as hell, though.

“Nice save,” you tell him, out of breath.

Soonyoung launches himself at the monster again, swiping a fiery claw at its face. It hardly reacts. “Have you guys forgotten we’re fighting a level four terra right now? Stop flirting over comms.”

You try to kick the terra’s chest to knock it backward, but it barely stumbles. “We are not flirti—”

Junhui’s voice overlaps with yours. “As if I’d flirt with them.”

“Wait.” You hold your hand over your in-ear so you can hear him clearly. “What’s that supposed to mean.”

“Nothing, nothing.”

“I’ll have you know that plenty of fans would kill to flirt with me.”

“Good thing I’m not one of your fans.”

You gasp. “Wen Junhui!”

“Guys,” Soonyoung scolds you through the comm. He leaps backward to dodge another punch from the terra. “I’m absolutely begging you to focus. If I had the time to get on my knees, I would.”

You roll your eyes. Neither of your partners can see it, but you know they can hear the indignant drawl in your voice. “It’s not like we’re gonna kill this thing.” In fact, both your powers and Soonyoung’s are practically useless against a stone terra. You’re supernaturally strong, but you’re not punching through entire boulders strong, and Soonyoung’s flaming claws aren’t nearly hot enough to melt rock. Both of you are way more adept at taking down fleshies. “We’re just holding it off until team Zamboni gets here. Speaking of—”

“Where the hell are those guys?” Soonyoung asks as he catches the terra’s attention so it doesn’t head toward the more populous area of the city.

“Yeah.” You eye the monster’s leg, assessing if you could topple it over somehow. “What’s the hold up?”

Junhui doesn’t answer right away, but you can hear the clacking — sorry, thocking — of his fancy keyboard. “Traffic.”

“Traffic?” you and Soonyoung echo in sync. A sputtering scoff escapes your lips. “Since when do supers get tripped up by traffic?”

Chuckling, Junhui says, “I mean, it’s the Zambonis we're talking about here. When have they ever been on time for anything?”

You make eye contact with Soonyoung by your side and nod towards the gap between the terra’s legs, indicating your plan without the need for words. There’s a reason you and him have been partners for however many years despite the lack of commonality between your superpowers. It just works with the two of you. And with Junhui as your man in the van— you’re a great team. Unnecessary conversations over comms aside.

“Seungkwan was a little early for my birthday thing last year,” you say in team Zamboni’s defense as you rush towards the terra and it charges at you.

“Yeah.” Junhui scoffs. “Because he had a big fat crush on you back then.”

Synchronized again, even in incredulity, you and Soonyoung both go, “He did?!” 

The news doesn’t stop you in your trajectory, but Soonyoung falters, and where he was supposed to distract the monster while you went for its leg to knock it off balance, he just stands there. You wrap your arms around one of the terra’s legs. It starts to lean forward, about to fall on its face, but without Soonyoung to steal its attention, the monster swivels its stone torso 180 degrees. Now looking right at you with glowing, yellow, soulless eyes, it launches both stone hands at you.

“Fuck!” You try to break out of the terra’s grip as it lifts you above its head, but your arms are pinned to your sides.

Junhui yells your name through the comms. You think you hear Soonyoung screaming, too. 

Around four things crunch at once, and yeah, passing out doesn’t seem so bad right about now.

—

When you come to, you see the same familiar ceiling you always do when shit goes south. There’s an Uncle Sam wants YOU poster taped to the otherwise bare white surface, except the rest of the words are painted over with, to stop being an idiot super. Jeonghan put that up after he warned you about coming in with one more “stupidity-induced injury”. 

You’ve woken up to that poster more than a few times since he taped it up there.

Groggily, you turn your head to your left, and like clockwork, Jeonghan grins down at you over the edge of his tablet.

“I get it,” you groan, squinting because of the fluorescent medbay lights. 

Jeonghan lets out a breath of a laugh and speaks quietly. “I haven’t even said anything yet.”

“Still.” Your head lolls to the other side, and you see the top of Junhui’s head resting next to your leg. He’s asleep in a chair, bent over your raised cot with one arm pillowing his head, and his opposite hand under your right one. Though his fingers have fallen slack in his unconscious state, you can tell he was cradling your hand gently. You lift your sore arm and pat Junhui’s head, rubbing your thumb back and forth. He hasn’t washed his hair in at least a day, you think with a quiet laugh. “I get it,” you mumble, turning back to Jeonghan without removing your hand from Junhui’s head.

“I’m sure you do,” Jeonghan says. He barely acknowledges Junhui’s presence, used to him being in the medbay whenever you come in hurt. “You broke almost fifteen percent of your bones.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.”

“Because half of your bones are in your hands and feet, super, and you just happened to be lucky in those areas.” Jeonghan types something into his tablet, then looks up at you again. “Just because you heal faster than the average human doesn’t mean thirty bones is something to sneeze at.”

“Of course, doc.” You smile at him. “I’ll be sure to let the next killer monster know you said that. Maybe they’ll go easy on me.”

He just grins right back. “Tell them I want a vacation, too. Preferably in May.”

You laugh together, both of you keeping it low so you don’t wake Junhui.

“Where’s Soonyoung?” you ask later, while Jeonghan checks your IV drip.

“He’s in I&R.”

“Info and research?” Confused, you frown. “Why?”

Jeonghan shakes his head, almost like he can’t believe the reason himself. “You should see the videos, super. Soonyoung went ballistic when the terra dropped you — you looked dead, by the way. I’m serious when I say you need to be more careful.”

“I mean.” You shrug. “I felt dead.”

Jeonghan frowns at you for once, and even though you can always tell, it does feel nice to see plainly that he cares if you make it out of these fights dead or alive. “That’s not funny,” he says.

You roll your eyes. “Anyway, you said Soonyoung went ballistic? What does that have to do with the I&R team?”

“His fire turned blue,” Jeonghan answers, a glint of excitement in his eye. Even though he’s (mostly) a normal doctor, he’s always been fascinated by superpowers.

Your eyes widen. “Blue?”

“Yeah. So they’re running a ton of tests on him since that’s never happened before. Right?” He waits for you to nod before he continues. “Mingyu thinks it has to do with his power’s connection to rage, and Wonwoo was saying something about heart rate. They don’t really know, though. Whatever it is, I’m sure all Soonyoung wants to do is get out of there.”

You tilt your head. “Why? That sounds so cool.”

“Well, he hasn’t been able to check on you yet.”

“Oh.” You try not to read into it — any of it — as you keep absentmindedly caressing the top of Junhui’s head.

As if on cue, though, you hear frantic footsteps coming down the hallway. Soonyoung barges through the medbay doors with about as much decorum as an angry grizzly bear. Panting, he turns toward your bed and jogs toward you.

Jeonghan slides out of his way with practised ease just before Soonyoung barrels into you.

“Oof,” you say when he wraps both his arms around you. “Easy, tiger. I’m trying to heal fifteen percent of my bones.”

Stirred from his sleep, Junhui sits up and rubs his eyes with one hand while shoving Soonyoung with the other. “Get off them, hothead.”

Soonyoung stands up straight, but he takes your hand and pouts at you. “Junhui’s being mean to me.”

You don’t know when it happened, but Junhui’s holding your other hand. He’s not looking at you when he says to Soonyoung, “Your partner’s on a hospital bed.”

“That’s not my fault!”

“I never said—”

“Guys,” you interrupt, squeezing both of their hands to grab their attention. They both turn to face you, and you can’t help but smile. “How do you feel about ramen?”

[chronically-ghosted]

i breathe you in (and it changes me)

rating: teen pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader word count: 2K summary: you've been here with him before - rock bottom. But this time, he gives you reason to hope for something new. warnings: alcohol use, mentions of drug use, physical fighting, blood, wounds, bruises, mentions of past toxic behavior a/n: your original ask @bitchwitch1981 got swallowed up by tumblr, so i had to create a new post :( but I wanted to say thank you so much for requesting this - it was more therapeutic to write than i initially thought!

1K ask:

Sweet Taylor, Congratulations on the amazing milestone! 💜 I have decided to go for astrology for The Midnight Seance. I have chosen the prompt “Hold my hand please?” “When you ask so nicely.” and my own darling Dieter Bravo.

🤍Masterlist 🤍 Dieter Bravo Masterlist

The damp heat of the night is made worse by the thick knot of chittering spectators by the back alley of the club. You can hear the fleshy blows, hear the flesh rip and tear the veins, the delighted groan of the crowd after a particularly sickening crunch. White lights of camera flashes flicker, the smell of blood acidic on your tongue, the metallic taste getting stronger the closer you get to the front of the crowd. You see the blur of an arm just as you shove aside a man recording the whole scene with his phone; how much will TMZ pay for even seven seconds of that video?

Across from you, a thick shadow with bloody knuckles paces like a caged tiger, snorting with rage, the spectators jeering and howling their approval. The man, twice as thick as you are, waits at the edge of the fight, his vision locked forward, massive hands itching to rip apart something alive. 

Whatever is left alive of the heap of clothes in front of you.

It shudders, arms and legs curling beneath it, and rolls backwards. The crowd lets out a disgusted groan at the sight of the bloody face. Your heart sinks to the sticky concrete.

Oh, Dieter.

Asphalt digs into your knees as you kneel down next to him, the sounds of the crowd fading as panic swells within you. He doesn’t even register that you’re there until you touch his cheek. One eye completely swollen shut, blood running down from his nose over his upper lip, he meets your gaze and flinches. 

“Sorry,” he slurs – either from his split lip or being drunk out of his mind, you can’t tell, “you look like my ex.” 

“Dieter, it’s me.” 

His collar is torn, blood speckles cover the front of his shirt, and his jeans are filthy. Judging by his own shredded knuckles, he might have actually gotten a few good hits in. Gonna hurt like a bitch in the morning. You put a hand on his shoulder, looking for any other open wounds, for more blood – and he shoves you off.

“Go away. I’m kicking this guy’s ass.” 

Groaning, Dieter staggers to his feet, the blood freely flowing from his nose now. He gets upright and immediately stumbles, hands going to his knees, much to the deformed glee of the crowd. They whoop and laugh and hold their phones higher. 

Even in heels, you’re several inches shorter than him and you intentionally didn’t wear that much clothing – you were going to club with your friends to forget – but you try to shield him from the camera lenses anyway. 

From the back of his throat, Dieter spits out a wad of blood. “Fuck, my head hurts.” The drool that slips from his mouth is pink and frothy.

“Dieter, c’mon, we’re going.” 

You drag his arm over your shoulder, shifting as much of his weight onto you as you can. His entire back and underneath his arm is drenched in what you pray is sweat. Behind you, you know the other man is yelling, shouting, something about teaching that fat mouth a lesson, but you do what you’ve alway done when it comes to Dieter: you put yourself between him and an oncoming car crash. 

Hoping a grown man won’t take a full swing with a woman in kitten heels and a slinky dress nearby, you half-push, half-carry Dieter back towards the way you came in, but you make it two more steps before he pushes you away again, his fingertips drifting down your shoulder. His face is twisted up in agony.

“Fuckin’ stop. I don’t need your help.”

You grab him by the bicep, twisting him to you again, and he stumbles, muttering a gruff sorry. Blood from his nose drips down onto your bare chest. He watches it, transfixed, his emotions crackling from one high to the next low. 

You cup his bruised, swollen jaw and his wet eyes meet yours and for an instant, no one else exists. His bottom lip trembles. 

“Dieter” you murmur, low enough for just him to hear, just enough for him to lean forward, to let himself be captured by you – briefly – just as he always had been. “We’re going home, okay?”

He nods, eyes shut, swaying, and lets himself be dragged away. 

Beyond the black partition, you hear music. Too soft to be distinct, too faint. Yet it sits between your teeth all the same, hums in the back of your jaw. Static noise. 

In your lap, lays Dieter’s head. Your skirt feels damp from where the blood from his nose gathers. It stopped dripping minutes ago but the spot still feels cold, still thick with it. Your hand curls in his hair, loose but weighted. Grounding. He always said this was his favorite spot in the entire world. 

You didn’t tell the driver to go east, towards Sherman Oaks, but the opposite direction, towards the rental property you kept by the beach. Before that, home had always been Sherman Oaks, but . . . in the after, you couldn’t even bear to see the name on the sign. 

Partially it’s practical. Given the swarmed mob, there most likely was another one waiting for him at the gates to his mansion. He doesn’t have his phone, you know, which is most likely a curse and a blessing. When it comes to moments like these, you’ve learned to deal with the problem right in front of you, one at a time. Or rather, the one in your lap. 

You swore you’d never be here again, you swore that you’d learn to unremember what here even feels like, and yet you ran to him all the same. This is not the first time you wonder if leaving him bleeding and drooling into the concrete would have been the right thing to do. 

The car drives you both towards the rental because you want him there. You want him to fill up that empty space in your bed, smear the too messy sink in the bathroom with uncharged electric toothbrushes and toothpaste that tastes like cotton candy, and bring a sense of wonder back into your increasingly dark days. But with all that, comes this. The black partition ahead of you blurs, your eyes grow hot and tight, submissive to the beaks of birds, and the back of your fingers not caught in his hair press harshly to the back of your mouth. You fight a shudder because you know he can’t bear to see you cry. 

“I didn’t want you to see me like that.”

His apologies always start like this, a little broken, a little roundabout way of getting to the heart of things. You sniff, your hand slipping to his shoulder and grasping it tight. “We don’t have to talk about it right now, okay, baby?”

“I didn’t want you to see me take pills.”

Your head bumps the back of the seat, as you swallow a sob and a laugh all at once. You squeeze him – no, no, of course not, you never mean it, you never mean any of it — 

“My therapist said they would help. And then they did. But I couldn’t get you back.”

He mutters something, rubbing his face slowly in your lap, like a blind kitten, his big hand over your knees, but you’re too stunned to parse out his babbling. 

“You went to therapy?” 

“Still in it.” He wheezes through a bruised rib. “She’s gonna be so pissed about this.” 

“You’re not high?” 

He shake-rubs his head again, the curls at his forehead catching against the sequins of your top. “Just drunk. I fucking hate being drunk.” 

He babbles some more, the words looped on tangled string, but you sit up, and gently turn his face towards you. The bleeding has stopped, but the swelling has set in. His right eye is black and blue, the skin puffy and tender. There’s a cut across his left cheek and his lip is split down the middle. Fuck, if these don’t heal right, that could be the end of his career. 

Goddamn it – and why would you care about that? It’s not your job to care anymore. 

You reverently trace a finger over his black eye, his cheek, his lips, to the blood on his temple. Tragedy always looked so good on him. 

His hand catches yours. You think his good eye might be filled with tears.

“I tried to get better . . . for you. For us. I took all the right pills, instead of the wrong ones this time, and I thought I was better.” Dieter shifts, so his back is against the seat and he’s looking straight up at you. He holds your hand to his chest, his other rising up to cup your cheek. That single touch cracks your resolve, your rule against letting him affect you, and you cry. He watches the silent tears roll down your cheeks, over his thumb. You think he looks remorseful. “I tried to get better and you moved on without me.”

It only just now occurs to you that he had most likely been inside the club when you had, had probably seen you and never said anything. He watched you dance and drink and try to forget him with other sweaty bodies and he never said a thing.

Bruised anger, the kind that melts off your ribs, flares bright within you and you jerk your face away from his touch.

“You don’t get to blame me for your shit anymore, Dieter.” 

His fingers curl and he swallows, the dried blood around his mouth cracking. “No, baby, I’m not. I’m not. I’m sorry I ever did. I didn’t mean it, I never mean it – never meant to hurt you. But I do, don’t I? I hurt you all the time.” 

Your anger throbs. “Then why? Why, Dieter, would you wait to get help until after I was gone? Didn’t you want to try . . . to salvage something, anything between us?”

His hand drops to his chest. 

“I didn’t want you to see me take pills.”

You suddenly recognize the weight of his head on your lap, the density of his shoulders against your lap, and you, in a cycle of regret and love, want to scream at him. Want to shake him. Instead you brush his sticky curls off his forehead and a single tear escapes the corner of his eye, down his temple. 

“You silly, silly boy.” You sniff, tears freely flowing, and curl a strand of his beautiful hair in your fingers. “I would have been there for you. I’m glad you got help, and I hate that this was a relapse, but I would never have judged you for trying to get better, even if you failed. You were the one who didn't want me to see that side of you, Dieter. I never stopped loving you.”

For a moment, he goes still, the darkness of the night street obscuring his face, blurring him into one dark shadow that wheezed and sighed. You’re about to seek out his hand in the dark, if not his face, not his wounds, when he lets out the most broken noise you’d ever heard come from anyone. 

It’s a noise that will haunt you in nightmares for years to come.

“Oh,” he says. 

The car rolls to a stop, the faint music barely heard over the rush and crash of the waves on the other side of your rental. The radio goes silent and the partition rolls down. 

“We’re here, miss.” 

You wipe your eyes, mascara streaks turning your finger tips black, and cough to clear the knot in your throat that beats in time with your heart. Hands curling under his shoulders, you move to lift him up off your lap.

“C’mon, Dieter, we’ve gotta get you cleaned up–,”

“Wait.” He visibly swallows, nothing else on his face so clear in the dark. You feel a faint drop on your skirt. “I mean, I’ll go but . . . hold my hand – please?” 

Despite yourself, despite him, despite your tear-drenched lips, you lean down and kiss his forehead. Your shared shaky breaths are trapped between your chest and his.  “Only when you ask so nicely.”

+

[fullofgutsndopamine]

take me to the water (wash away my sins)

tw: mention of drinking/being drunk (reader), mention/description of jump scare video, mention of insomnia and anxiety

i’m well aware it’s april and yet…here’s some halloween shit

more here

hasan is a firm believer in getting eight hours of sleep a night. it doesn’t usually work out that way for him, but he figures if he believes in it hard enough, one day it might happen.

he’s tried it all tonight; comfort movie playing quietly next to him-switch to silence-faced the wall, counted imaginary sheep-nothing is working.

he flips over a final time to face the wall a last time, shuts his eyes and prays to whatever gods exist for sleep to find him when it happens

across the hallway, you settle into your computer chair, making sure to sit on just right so it doesn’t break.

homework assignments crowd your computer, unread emails from professors and never ending lists of tasks for classes.

i can’t believe u in this video? have u seen this???

the discord notification comes up and your lips move as you read it, rolling your eyes as the mouse hovers over the notification before sighing and opening it. honestly, it’s probably just a video of you drunk out of your mind from the last party you went to. you weren’t proud of it, thought you could forget it, but you can’t help but let the anxiety gnaw and bite at your belly for a second before clicking on it.

the video is shaky, to begin with-which honestly, should’ve been your first sign. the second, of course, would be the fact that the video is taken in the middle of the woods-unfortunately, you’re sold immediately, leaning closer in your seat and your nose practically against your shitty monitor to see what was happening-

you should’ve expected it, really. and yet when the camera pans away and the source of the snapping twigs and moving leaves is revealed-a small woman in a costume (and you know, deep down, that it’s just a costume, just an actor) hair in front of their face but still allowing half of their face to be reveled, scarred and bloody-

look, the scream is a totally normal, human response.

for hasan, across the hall, his response is immediate. before he can stop himself he’s kicking off sheets and running outside his cramped dorm room, the blanket still half over his shoulder as he knocks on your door with a heavy fist.

“fuck fuck fuck.”

the video auto plays and you can hear the piercing scream the masked woman lets out again and again and again-stumbling over your own feet as you struggle to get out of the chair.

“open the door!” he’s saying, and his voice is lower than usual, like he’s actually nervous about not knowing the state of you being okay or not.

this isn’t how you want him to see you.

you know hasan from classes; use to always joke that the only constant in classes so far is that you’ll end up next to him, or his partner for a class no matter what

you crack the door open and hasan all but side steps into the room, his foot between the door as he sticks his head in:

“i heard you scream,” he says, his face and voice laced with worry, “are you alright? what happened?”

“sorry i uh-“

and now it’s time to put on a show

you shake your head, avoiding his eyes as a lie rolls off your lips: “saw a spider in the shower.”

“a spider?” he repeats, eyes narrowed, “in the shower?”

“yeah uh-“ shake your head, “sorry i mean i saw uh-“

“right, princess and-.”

“saw-“ you can’t stop the lies, “i mean had a nightmare-“

fuck that’s even more embarrassing than admiting you had screamed from a video your friend sent you-

you’re working up another lie but his face falls, his voice is softer: “had a nightmare?”

and you forgot for a second, that lying to hasan is a cardinal sin.

and you’ve been through this song and dance with him before-nights when there are late parties and somehow hasan is always in your orbit, slowly navigating and floating to you, water in hand, ready to pull you to reality, get you home safe, stand watch-

“no uh-“

your face is bright red, you can feel it, as his hand is on your chin, brings your face up to look at him:

“you can tell me, princess.” he says gently, “can tell me anything, right?”

and it was a slurred promise, when you two were both less than sober freshman year and became each other’s safe houses

“just-“ you shake your head, “just a stupid video, hasan.”

“can i come in?” he says gently, his voice is low, borders on being all gravel, “was going to ask to borrow some tea anyways.”

and the dark bags under his eyes that tell on him every time reveal it’s a lie as you open the door wider for him to duck and squeeze under, his hand catching yours as he steps foot into the dorm he knows like the back of his hand, laces his fingers in yours as he drags you to the kitchen like it’s his own.

“don’t you have a speech to give early tomorrow?”

he leads you to a seat and gently pushes you down in it as he makes his way to the stove, turns on the kettle. you know he wasn’t sleeping good because of the anxiety to come with it-

“mhm,” he says, facing the cabinet as he slowly goes through all the teas until he pulls your favorite, “i was up practicing.”

“liar.”

he shrugs, not daring to face you, to give himself away like that anyways.

“always sleep better with a belly full of tea anyways,” he shrugs, leans against the counter, “know you’re safe, yeah?”

“hasan-“ you huff, feeling dumb, “it was a stupid fucking video-“

“princess.”

the rough edges of you melt away like always do around him, “i know.”

“i can spend the night,” he shrugs, inviting himself. “i’ll keep watch. i can practice my speech anyways.”

“hasan-“

“please,” he rolls his eyes, “anthony makes it impossible to sleep anyways, honestly you’d be doing me a favor.”

anthony is his roommate and best friend, along with the bane of his existence, the complete opposite of hasan.

“let me keep watch,” he says, tries to make it causal, “like before. you can listen to my speech and tell me how dogshit it is.”

“i would never.”

“you haven’t heard it yet.”

the kettle screeches and hasan tends to it, pouring a steaming hot splash of water into the mug, gently holding it.

“come on.”

his hands hold two cups, one that’s yours and one that’s him, as he turns and heads to the couch. you could argue, say he’s overbearing and you could carry your own cup, but it’s nice to see a friendly face and feel a little safer now, as he collapses on the couch, smacks the spot next to him as you crawl and mold into his side.

he passes the cup to you after you settle, your head against his chest as you try to convince yourself that this is something that just friends do for one another, the steady beat of his heart a lullaby you know well as your eyes already grow heavy

“well,” you say, eyes closed and voice heavy, “let’s hear it.”

and he’d almost forgotten the lie he told, has to give himself a second as he laughs and shifts, takes his phone out and clears his throat, makes sure to keep his voice low for you:

“i got the first watch.” he says gently, and it isn’t until you nod,as you agree back that starts his speech, one eye on you the entire time

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Six of Crows Fan-Written Script

Okay so I haven’t done a great job up until this point of actually separating this into clear scenes so I’ve gone through and corrected that and part 4 is the very end of scene 3, all of scene 4, and the start of scene 5. I’m wishing that I’d put better thought into this from the start so I could’ve posted a scene at the time but unfortunately I didn’t have enough foresight for that so I guess we’ll just have to see how it goes and hopefully at least by episode two I’ll have a more sensible structure going on

As usual: Be warned I've taken a little artisitc licence (eg inserting a reference to my personal Anya headcanon in the opening part) but most of this is direct quotes/takes on direct quotes - and also I've never written a script before so my formatting is my own made up method I hope it makes sense. I’ve had to make some strides away from the book in order to match Show!canon but I’m trying to remain as true as possible. Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Recap: The last part ended with Kaz and Inej having a conversation after leaving the exchange, with Inej leaving after she said “Men mock the gods until they need them, Kaz”

Also: sorry if there are spelling mistakes in names I’m working mostly from audiobooks because neither of my copies of the books are with me right now

Episode One - Part 4

[KAZ shakes his head, then keeps walking. After a moment he raises his head again, aware he once more isn’t alone. He glances around him briefly, then cuts down a dark alleyway alongside a canal. The scene suddenly darkens as there are no street lamps along this new road, the water of the canal is murky and the yellow reflection of the moon can be seen broken across its surface in between small boats bumping against their moorings as they bob with the movement of the water. KAZ seems to relax once more. A shadowed figure appears ahead of him]

KAZ: What business?

[The figure lunges towards KAZ. He swings his cane towards the attacker and the camera moves in close to the moment that should have been contact - the cane passes straight through empty space that a moment ago was the attacker’s legs, and KAZ stumbles forwards as his momentum pushes him. He rights himself and looks up to discover he’s face-to-face with the attacker. The attacker punches KAZ in the jaw and the camera follows his movement as he falls back then swings his cane around again - only to empty space. The cane hits the wall and then is torn from KAZ’s hands. The camera movements are choppy and confusing, remaining focused on KAZ and showing little of the attacker - we essentially see what KAZ sees: a ghost. A figure steps through the wall - appears as mist and then slowly forms itself into a silhouette wearing a hooded cloak, only the edge of the figure’s face visible in the low light - and KAZ stumbles backwards, terror written across his face. The camera moves close on KAZ’s face as he panics, turning in every direction until a needle is seen being inserted into the side of his neck. His eyes roll, then close, and he collapses out of frame as the screen fades to black]

SCENE FOUR

[THE CROW CLUB. The club is busy; there are patrons at the bar, players at every table, people shouting and jeering. The camera follows the hand of a dealer spinning Makker’s wheel; players shout their joys and sorrows as it lands, completely oblivious to INEJ slipping past them. The club’s patrons are all brightly coloured, a few in the crowd even wear the masks of the Komedie Brute though that’s less common here than on the other Stave, but INEJ is the opposite. The camera watches her from above, moving silently and unimpeded through the crowd, she is an inkblot crossing the bright tapestry. When she stops at a card table the camera moves down through the scene to level with her, and turns to Jesper and two Ravkan tourists sitting at the table. The dealer at the table is ROJAKKE, moving quickly and impressively as he sets up the hand. JESPER is glad to see INEJ. It’s fair to assume she’s spoken to him since her return to the city and he was unfazed by her appearance at the Exchange tonight, but he feels a distance between them that he desperately wants to close. As she approaches, he smiles up at her over his shoulder and references his cards]

JESPER: What do you think?

INEJ: You know exactly what I think

[JESPER looks away. He was trying to emulate the closeness he feels they’ve lost and now fears he had inadvertently made things worse. INEJ turns to ROJAKKE as he finishes handing the final cards of the hand to the tourists]

INEJ: Rojakke, I need a private word - walk with me?

[He frowns but nods, excusing himself from the table and following INEJ towards the private gambling parlours at the back of the club. JESPER glances over his shoulder at them, then shrugs and places two cards onto the table. The tourists play their hands and JESPER grins triumphantly, leaning in to take his winnings when he is suddenly interrupted by ROJAKKE yelling as he marches back into frame - INEJ hurrying after him]

ROJAKKE: It’s not fair - I ain’t no cheat!

[JESPER gets to his feet and the camera follows his steps across the room towards INEJ and ROJAKKE]

INEJ, much quieter: Take it up with Kaz

JESPER: And keep your voice down, you’ll scare off the pigeons. There’s no fights on the Crow Club floor, you know that

[ROJAKKE sneers]

ROJAKKE: Where even is Brekker?

INEJ: I don’t know

[There is genuine concern in INEJ’s tone and she glances at the clock on the wall behind her as she speaks - KAZ has already been gone longer than expected]

ROJAKKE: You always know everything about everything. Isn’t that what Dirtyhands pays you for?

JESPER, murmuring: Not anymore

[INEJ silences him with a look]

INEJ: I don’t know where Kaz is and I don’t know when he’s getting back, but I do know that you won’t want to be here when he does

ROJAKKE: Give me my cheque. I’m owed for my last shift.

INEJ: Brekker doesn’t owe you anything

ROJAKKE: Can’t even face me himself - sent a little girl to gimme the boot. Maybe I’ll just shake a few coins out of you

[ROJAKKE reaches out towards her but he’s slow and has clearly been drinking. INEJ dodges him easily and the camera catches her slipping her fingers into a pair of brass knuckles as she moves. JESPER steps forwards but INEJ shakes her head, then turns and punches ROJAKKE in the face. Use the movement to transition into Kaz’s head movement in the opening of the next scene]

SCENE FIVE

[HOEDE’S OFFICE. Use the sudden movement of ROJAKKE’s head when INEJ punches him to transition into the sudden movement of KAZ’s head at the opening of this scene as a hood is pulled off him. KAZ is tied to a chair in a plush office; mahogany panelled walls with decorative carved shapes, including waves and the three flying fishes of Kerch, grand bookshelves, and an oil painting of a woman with a book open on her lap and a lamb at her feet (with a small but notable signature in the corner says ‘DeKappel’ and possibly a plate on the frame as well to prove its authenticity) are notable features of the set. At first the camera remains focused entirely on KAZ so we cannot see who he is with; someone behind him has removed the hood but they aren’t entirely in frame. KAZ has clearly taken an injury from the fight and there is blood on his face; whatever he was injected with has had him knocked out for an unclear amount of time and he is struggling to right himself. The camera pans back slowly to reveal a MEDIK crouched in front of KAZ, moving forwards to wave a small linen pouch (wolf salts) beneath KAZ’s nose. KAZ shoves back from him as far as his restraints will allow, attempting to kick at the MEDIK but unable to move his legs]

KAZ: Get away from me

[The MEDIK looks at KAZ with distaste as he slips the wolf salts into a small leather container and returns them to his bag. KAZ looks around him with veiled confusion; he expected to wake up in the den of a rival gang but instead is in the plush surroundings of a merchant’s house. The camera moves slowly around the room to introduce us to the scene just as Kaz is: he notes the armed members of the stadwatch at the door, the act that the painting is a genuine DeKappel, and as the camera rotates a broad hardwood desk is revealed, behind which VAN ECK is seated. VAN ECK appears more than simply prosperous. He’s in his forties, has a gaunt air about his face, and has a distinctly receding hairline. His outfit is noticeably similar to KAZ’s and distinctly different from the common trappings that have been seen in the Barrel. He leans on the desk studying KAZ, trying to hide his eagerness and not doing a particularly good job of it]

KAZ: What business?

[VAN ECK appears to be ignoring KAZ. He nods at the MEDIK]

VAN ECK: You may go. Please send me you bill - and I would of course appreciate your discretion

[MEDIK exits. VAN ECK stands and collects a sheath of papers from the desk and the camera cuts close to focus on the gold laurel leaves that make up the fob of his pocket watch and the large, perfect ruby on his tie pin]

KAZ: Van Eck

[It is clear he would have preferred to say something quite different. VAN ECK nods]

VAN ECK: You know me, then

KAZ: I know of you - the Red Laurel crest. You’re one of those merch crusaders always trying to clean up the Barrel

VAN ECK: I try to find men honest work

[KAZ laughs]

KAZ: What’s the difference between wagering at the Crow Club and speculating on the floor of the exchange?

VAN ECK: One is theft and the other is commerce

KAZ: When a man loses his money, he may have trouble telling them apart.

VAN ECK: The Barrel is a den of filth, vice, violence-

KAZ: How many of the ships you send sailing from the Ketterdam harbours never return?

VAN ECK: That doesn’t-

KAZ: One in five, Van Eck. One out of every five vessels you send seeking your fortune sinks to the bottom of the sea, crashes on the rocks, falls prey to pirates. One out of five crews dead, their bodies lost to foreign waters, food for deep sea fishes. Let’s not speak of violence

[VAN ECK is clearly affronted - and clearly trying to hide it]

VAN ECK: I won’t argue ethics with a strippling from the Barrel

[The camera cuts to KAZ’s fingers feeling as far along his chains as he can, subtly adjusting the position of his wrists]

KAZ: Well, if you didn’t bring me here to philosophise: What business?

VAN ECK: I have a proposition for you - or rather, the council does

[KAZ veils his surprise]

KAZ: And does the Merchant Council begin all negotiations with a beating?

VAN ECK: Consider it a warning - and a demonstration

[KAZ frowns, thinking of the way the figure appeared and disappeared like a ghost. He is trying to make himself stop thinking of ghosts]

KAZ: What possible use would the Merchant Council have for me?

[VAN ECK studies the papers in front of him, reading and looking over the top of the page at KAZ as he speaks]

VAN ECK: You were first arrested at ten

KAZ: Everyone remembers his first time

VAN ECK: Twice again that year, twice again at eleven. You were picked up at a gambling hall a few years ago and there was a warrant for your arrest six months ago - but you were found to be incorrectly charged, and haven’t served any time since you were fourteen?

[KAZ grins, shrugging]

KAZ: I cleaned up. Found honest work. Live a life of industry and prayer

VAN ECK: Don’t blaspheme

[VAN ECK’s eyes flash briefly with anger and KAZ notes it - he is keeping track of everything he knows about VAN ECK so far. He’s prosperous, pious, a widow recently remarried to a bride a similar age to KAZ, and there’s a mystery surrounding his son. VAN ECK continues to flick through the papers. As the conversation continues the camera moves between three positions: focus on KAZ, focus on VAN ECK, and a side view showing both their profiles backlit by the window]

VAN ECK: You run book on prize fights, horses, and your own games of chance. You were floor boss at the Crow Club for two years-

KAZ: Still am.

[VAN ECK frowns, looking between KAZ and the papers]

KAZ: We’ve reopened

VAN ECK, continuing as though Kaz never spoke: You’re the youngest to ever run a betting shop and you doubled its profits in that time. You’re a blackmailer -

KAZ: I broker information

VAN ECK: A con artist

KAZ: I create opportunity

VAN ECK: A bawd, and a murderer

KAZ: I don’t run whores - and I kill for a cause

VAN ECK, distastefully: And what cause is that?

KAZ: Same as yours merch: Profit

VAN ECK: How do you get your information, mister Brekker?

KAZ: You might say I’m a lockpick

VAN ECK: You must be a very gifted one

KAZ: I am indeed. You see, every man is a safe, a vault of secrets and longings. Now there are those who takes the brute’s way, but I prefer a gentler approach: the right pressure applied at the right moment, in the right place. It’s a delicate art

VAN ECK: Do you always speak in metaphors, mister Brekker?

[KAZ smiles widely]

KAZ: It’s not a metaphor

[KAZ jumps up from the chair and the chains clatter to the ground behind him. He leaps across the room towards the desk, snatching a letter opener with one hand and grabbing VAN ECK’s shirt with the other. He presses the blade against VAN ECK’s throat. KAZ is noticeably slower than usual, groggy from the injection and with no access to his cane, but he can still easily get the better of VAN ECK and the stadwatch officers in the room- and he is immediately more comfortable now he’s holding a weapon. The guards turn to him with weapons raised, a mixture of guns and swords]

KAZ: I don’t think I need to waste breath on threats. Tell me how to get to the door or I’m taking you through the window with me

VAN ECK: I think I can change your mind

KAZ: I don’t care who you are, or how big that ruby is, you don’t take me away from my own streets and you don’t try to make a deal with me when I’m in chains.

VAN ECK, calling towards the door: Mika

[A figure walks through the wall of the office in the same format of dissipating and reforming from mist as the figure in scene three and becomes a young boy, MIKA, in a slightly faded Tidemaker’s Kefta with a red laurel crest pinned to the lapel. He is clearly ill; his cheeks are hollow, there are large dark circles beneath his eyes, and his face is paled. KAZ panics - he thinks he’s hallucinating from some kind of drug Van Eck has given him]

[crystalbeetle888]

Animal Instinct Pt.2

Charles X reader X Erik In the wake of losing a friend, you seek out revenge on Sebastian Shaw. However, you are not the only one after him, as a team of meddling mutants try to convince you to join forces. Will you give in to these persuasive outcasts, and join their family? or do it alone as you always have?

Master List Pt.1 - Pt.2 - Pt.3

Word Count: 2,697

Content: Violence, swearing, sexual references, possible bigotry it’s the 60s, slow burn, some angst, eventual happy ending, maybe smut?

The blinding morning light cracks through the curtains and into your eyes, waking you from your restless slumber. You moan in pain as you stretch from your huddled position on the floor. Your body is sore and your head aches as you prop yourself against the door. You feel hollow as you stare down at your crusted, red stained hands, your breath shaky as you remember the events from last night. The way Stars eyes widened in fright once she realized what had happened, the choking gasping noise she made as you held her, trying to keep her alive, the metallic stench that stuck to you. That fucking stench. You quickly rise to your feet, nausea washing over you as you stumble into the bathroom. Stripping off your clothes you quickly hop into the shower, not bothering to wait for it to warm up, and begin to scrub at the blood staining your arms. You slather the soap across your entire body before allowing yourself to breathe. You watch as the red water runs across your body and down the drain. You begin to cry, actually, sob for the first time in a long time. You crouch down in the shower allowing the hot water to run off, staying like that until the water runs cold.

Exhausted, you hop out and throw on some raggedy ass clothes. Deciding you needed to fetch some food, you reluctantly leave your room and walk across the parking lot to ‘Jacks’ Cafe and Diner’, one of the shadiest places you’ve ever eaten at. It wasn’t uncommon for degenerate men to stay the night at the motel with an escort, and buy breakfast at the diner the next day. Great business model given that their both owned by the same sleazy-bag slumlord. Sitting down at a booth you brush a few crumbs off your table as a rough looking woman walks over “What'cha want?” she asks “I’ll get a B&E sandwich and a water" She hums “Oh, and send out Ricky, I need to talk to him” She looks you up and down before rolling her eyes.

Ricky watches all of the security cameras at the cage fights, he sees all and knows everything about everyone. He has an acute psychic power, allowing him to see insights into people's memory when viewing them. ‘Nosey fucking bastard’ you think to yourself. The door to the kitchen swings open and a tall African man walks out “Aye beasty, my favourite girl! What are you doing here?” He asks, strutting over. His optimism falters for a moment, obviously having seen last night's memory, “Oh Animal, I’m so sorry, I know she was a good friend” he mutters in solace, sitting down across from you. 

You choose to ignore him. "I need to call in a favour” he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“You will owe me one” he says causing you to scoff “I set you up with that pretty singer girl”

He hums in thought “Hmm I suppose you did aye, alright, what do you need?” You roll your eyes at his antics.

“I need you to look at someone from last night's match and tell me all you know,” you whisper. He nods “Alright, I can do that later tonight” “I need you to do it now Ricky” he huffs before taking his apron off “You’re a persistent lady” he says defeatedly, knowing that there was no point in arguing with you. 

The two of you travel back to the supposably abandoned building, entering through the main door “I thought this was all under construction?” you ask, “Nah, backstage just doesn't like sharing with anyone from the ring” Ricky smiles back at you cheekily. You huff, walking through the building and into a small room. Inside is a couch across from a large box TV and VCR setup. “Alright, what do you want to see?” He says crouching down in front of the machine. “There was a white man in the east-wing corridor directly after my fight, I want you to look at him” He nods, turning everything on and rewinding the video footage. “The top right is what you want” He mutters in focus. You lean forward, “There, that’s him” you point at the screen.

Ricky stares at him before humming in thought “What do you see?” You whisper. He turns to you hesitantly, “Ani, nothing you do to this fella will bring her back”, you glare at him “He deserves to die”, you counter back through gritted teeth. Ricky nods, taking a deep breath in and out “He’s going to be in Las Vegas, at the Atomic Hellfire Club in two days time. He’s meeting with someone, someone in government I think” He furrows his brows “I can’t get much more, it’s too garbled”

You stand “Thank you Ricky” you say before turning to leave “Animal, he has a telepath, be careful” You nod at him as you walk away. 

The evening begins to cool as you make your way through the airport. You only had one bag of belongings in total. You didn’t like to be held down by material belongings, just a few pictures of the circus and some locks of hair from loved ones’ who’ve passed. You didn't know why you kept their hair. You suppose it’s so you can continue to smell them and be reminded of home. Home was always more about the people than the place for you, especially after your mother died. Shaking off your thoughts, you board the plane and sit down. Plucking out a cigarette to calm your nerves, you settle into your seat, ‘This is gonna be a long flight’ You think, shifting in discomfort.

After what seems like eternity, and an entire packet of cigarettes, the plane finally lands with a harsh bump. The jostling causes you to grip the armrests of your seat “Oh god” you whisper to yourself. You didn’t like flying. I mean you did, just not in a plane. Out of the plane and through the airport, you hail down a taxi “Take me to the Atomic Club” the cab driver nods, peeling away from the curb. You also didn’t like car rides. Too many ways to be in an accident. 

The drive isn’t long, but it is overstimulating. Flashing neon lights, crowds stumbling across every inch of sidewalk, horns honking, the stench of alcohol and greasy food. “What and awful fucking place” You mutter to yourself. “Are you here for business?” the cabbie asks. “Of sorts” You reply. The bumper to bumper traffic slows to a stop “I’d be easier if you hopped out now ma’am, the club is just up the street over there” he says pointing out the window. “Alright, here” You hand him some money before grabbing your suitcase and hopping out. The streets are loud, people bumping into one another as you weave through the crowds. Making your way up the street you stand outside the Atomic Club. ‘Gentlemen’ and scantily clad women walking in and out of the establishment. Looking around you spot a motel just up the street, ‘Perfect’ you think. Entering the building an older woman looks up from her newspaper at the front desk. “Just you?”, “Yeah, three nights” She passes you a key as you pass her the money. Trotting up to the fifth floor you find your room and enter. It was small, one window overlooking the rank-ass streets and the Atomic Club, a double bed, and a small bathroom. “Home sweet home” you remark before throwing your stuff on the floor and jumping into bed, ready to sleep off the jetlag. Snuggling in, you quickly drift off to sleep.

The following day is spent perched on the window seal, waiting for an opening. When night finally falls you spot your opportunity, a limo filled with lingerie clad women. Quickly stripping down you throw on your one set of black lace underwear and heels, and book it out of there. As you trot down the street you shift your form, growing your hair longer and blonde, your waist more snatched, your bust bustier, your birthmark smoothed away, and a completely new face, just in case. ‘Got be palatable to the males’ you think slightly annoyed.

Joining the group of women, as they strut through the entrance and into the foyer. A blonde lady dressed in white invites us in. The room is tall and crowded, loud music mixes with the men's chattering and whistling. Walking down the stairs you mingle with the crowd, sauntering around them as you try to pick up a scent, and as they try to gain your attention. Star always told you to pick a random object in the distance to focus on so it seemed like you were going somewhere important. After some sniffing around you pick up Shaw's scent, following it into an empty curtained booth. You sniff around the seats, then the table, the centerpiece smelling strongly of many different hands. Pressing down on it, the room rotates, opening up into a large empty office. Your ears grow and prick, searching for the slightest of sounds. A muffled conversation can be heard behind the far bookcase covered wall. Sneaking over, you grow your ear to that of a bat and press it to the wall, closing your eyes you focus. The noise forms an image in your head. A fire crackling in the center of the room and gentle music overwhelm the other sounds, ‘Focus Animal’.

“We’ve had this conversation. You put our nukes in Turkey or anywhere that close to Russia, and you’re looking at war. Nuclear war” a man sitting across from Shaw speaks. The woman from earlier sits next to him and an unknown man sits at the bar in the corner. ‘This must be that government person’ you think. Stripping down naked you morph your skin into cuttlefish skin, camouflaging yourself with the surroundings wallpaper ‘There’s only one way in, all I have to do is wait’ you think to yourself. You’re thought is quickly interrupted by a loud bang on the wall, opening the secret door ‘Never-fucking-mind then’. 

You silently slip through the gap and step around the older man laying disheveled on the floor. You hold your breath and still your thoughts. Shaw, the blonde woman, and the random guy approach, standing over him. Sneaking around the group you crouch to the ground ‘He’s right fucking there’ you think desperately.

As Shaw chatters aimlessly the woman next to him transforms into glass. ‘It’s now or never’ you think. Whilst he’s distracted explaining some useless crap you pounce on him, jumping on his back and throwing him to the ground. You bite into Shaw's neck with your sharp feline-like teeth and pull back, ripping the chuck of meat from him before spitting it out, and going in for another bite. Before you can however, a strong force of wind throws you into the wall, deactivating your camouflage and new form. The, apparently diamond, woman whistles loudly, the noise echoing throughout the room. Azazel, the devil man from before, appears “Get rid of her!” Shaw splutters to him, clutching his throat. Lunging at him again, you're abruptly grabbed and teleported high above a lake. You fall gracelessly. Hitting the freezing water hard, you let out an involuntary gasp as you go under. Kicking to the surface you cough and splutter. “FUCK!” you scream into the night. “That fucker! That stupid ugly motherfucker!” you cry out to no one, completely defeated.

After swimming back to shore, you proceed to spend the rest of the night walking back to your motel, the front desk lady not sparing you a second glance as you walk in completely soaked and naked. Dragging yourself back to your room, you throw yourself onto the bed, too tired to cry, you fall asleep as the sun just begins to come up.

Meanwhile, back at the Atomic Club, Moira McTaggert just witnessed the attempted assassination of the mysterious Sebastian Shaw, by an even more mysterious shapeshifting woman. She managed to accidentally walk in on this woman as she was undressing and camouflaging into the wall. Moira stays hidden behind the bookcase, listening into the rest of their conversation as Colonel Hendry is teleported off by this Azazel man. She quickly backs away from the door and slides back into the booth before booking it out of there. Slipping into her colleague's car, she calls her superior McCone, attempting to explain the situation. “Listen to me, I suggest that you stop wasting my time.” He pauses “I got bigger things to deal with right now, MacTaggert” He hangs up abruptly before she can get a word in “Sir, I…” She huffs in frustration. “Have you lost your mind? So now what?” Her colleague asks. “We find an expert on genetic mutation” She answers. 

After pulling some resources MacTaggert finally finds someone, Charles Fransis Xavier, a soon to be Professor of Genetics, is giving his presentation tomorrow evening. ‘This is him’ she thinks to herself.

The trip to London is long, but nothing she hasn’t done before. She gets to Oxford University early, allowing herself time to scope out the scene before going inside and taking a seat. After the presentation, Moira waits outside for Professor Xavier to leave, the light rain bounces off her umbrella creating a relaxing tapping noise. Finally, the Professor leaves the building, squished up next to a pretty woman as they share an umbrella.

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to be called a professor until you actually have a teaching position” he says to the woman as they pass by Moira. “I know, but it suits you,” She replies. “Don’t say that. Do say, ‘Let’s go have a drink ", “Let’s go have a drink”, “Wonderful”, she eavesdrops on their banter.

Moira follows them to a local pub where Charles and the woman friend begin to drink, quite enthusiastically actually. Charles begins chugging from an incredibly long glass, a chanting crowd forming around him. They erupt in cheers as he finishes. Moira slips through the crowd as they begin to disperse, intercepting Charles as he attempts to reach the bar. 

“Congratulations, Professor” she shakes his hand firmly, “Thank you very much. It’s much harder than it looks, actually” he says smugly.

“No, on your presentation.” She corrects him. “You were at my presentation? How nice of you. Thank you very much” he drunkenly chatters, obviously quite chuffed with himself.

“Moira MacTaggert.”, “Charles Xavier”, “Do you have a minute?” She asks. He smiles and brushes her hair gently back “For a pretty little being with a mutated MCR1 gene? I have five” 

“I say MCR1, you would say auburn hair” he throws his arm over her shoulder and leads them to a table. “It’s a mutation. It’s a very groovy mutation. Mutation, right, took us from single-celled organisms to the dominant form…” He slightly slurs his words as he talks at her. Moira rolls her eyes, clearly unimpressed “You know what? This routine may go over great with the co-eds, but I’m here on business” she states firmly. He looks at her confused, “I really need your help” she reiterates. He nods his head gently “Alright” he huffs, trying to sober up enough for a serious conversation.

“The kind of mutations that you were talking about in your thesis. I need to know if they may have already happened.” Charles sits up straighter in attention, “In people alive today” she continues. He slips his hand up to his temple and focuses in on Moiras’ memories. Images enter his mind. Images of Shaw talking to Colonel Hendry, the diamond woman, the naked woman becoming camouflage, and later shapeshifting as she attacks Shaw. He’s never seen someone with such an interesting skill set before. Except for Raven of course, but that was different. Charles doesn’t even hear Moira as she continues to talk.

“Something tells me you already know the answer to your question” He says leaning in “This is very important to me, and if I can help you, I will do my utmost��. She nods gratefully “Thank you”

[the12thnightproject]

Tempest in Time Prologue Part One - The Wormhole

Katsuko and her brother Toshiie are pulled through a wormhole to Japan, 1575

“Did you repair the drone?” I didn’t bother with a greeting.

Toshiie remedied my omission. “Hello. How was your week? I’ve missed you.” His snark burned through the 4G network. You’ve heard those stories of exploding telephones? If sarcasm could explode a phone, my brother would have killed three of mine already. “And yes, it’s fixed.”

I impatiently picked at my toenail while I went through the niceties with my twin. “Sorry. Hello. How was your week? I’ve missed you.” I had missed him, actually. At least as much as I missed anyone.

“Someone threw up in bio lab. That was the highlight.”

“Ew.” And he likely wasn’t being sarcastic. Knowing Tosh, it might have truly been the highlight of his week. He was studying nursing, with an eye to someday going to Medical School, so vomit and blood and bodies never bothered him. As a perpetually overworked student, his life was the lab, homework, and sleep.

Good thing he had me to break him out of his patterns. “Just dropped a pin to your phone – can you meet me there in an hour? Bring the drone.”

A loud sigh attacked my eardrum. “Katsuko, I have exams to study for. So do you.”

I was half-heartedly studying physical therapy. Very half-heartedly. These days there wasn’t much I was doing full hearted. Except…

“Please, please, please!” I had already changed from the outfit I had worn to class that morning, into sports bra, tank, and sweats. I stuck the phone between my ear and my shoulder, so I could I tape up my wrists. I knew Tosh wouldn’t turn me down.

With another (overly) dramatic sigh, he agreed. “Fine. See you in sixty.”

This time, Tosh was the one who skipped the greeting, hanging up without a goodbye. That’s typical of us. I hate saying hello. Tosh hates goodbye.

Sixty minutes was enough time to grab my beloved blue hoodie, my phone, a couple bottles of water, and some vegan power bars. I stuffed them all in my backpack, and ran out the door…

... and ran back in to grab my IC card.

As I dashed out the building again, I bundled my turquoise streaked hair in a lopsided ponytail, IC card clenched in my teeth as I chased down the bus.

In less than an hour, I was warming up in front of a three-story building, plotting out my route.

Tosh was late, as usual. I sometimes teased him about living on Toshiie time, but I was used to building an extra ten minutes into a schedule if I really needed him to be punctual. Eventually, he rolled up while I was pacing out the dimensions of the courtyard in front of a three story building. I watched him park his moped, then jog down the sidewalk, ignoring the admiring glances he was drawing from men and women alike.

You know how in some families, one kid gets the looks, and one kid gets the brains? Beautiful, brilliant Toshiie got both.

Me? I got the –

Thwack!

I winced as Tosh tripped over air.

-Coordination.

He stumbled a few steps toward me. I rushed forward to rescue his gear bag, knowing it was full of expensive camera equipment.

“Oh sure, save the bag, let your brother fall on his face,” Tosh grumbled.

“You just got this fixed from the last time.” I unpacked the drone.

He nodded, seeing my point. “What’s your route?”

I gestured to a series of railings, the exterior stairs, and the roof. “If you can, get hand-held for a wide angle, and send the drone above. Once I’m on the roof, meet me behind the building – there’s a park, and get ready to track my descent.”

There was no reason to explain any more. What’s the phrase – it’s better to ask for forgiveness than permission?”

My warm up complete, I centered myself in a handstand while Tosh set up the cameras. Once he gave me a thumbs up, I flipped back to my feet and took off…

It’s called Freerunning. That use of obstacles to propel yourself through space, using your hands, feet and the environment as you nearly fly up, down, across, and under the landscape. Martial artists might call it by the French term, parkour, but I love the word freerunning. Free running.

Running free.

I hopped from one railing to another, balancing briefly on metal as I jumped over the side of the stairwell, then bounced to the wall of the next landing – zig zagging up levels until I flipped onto the roof. With a handspring for extra flair, I zipped across the rooftop.

When I was little, my mother, “exhausted” (her word) by my bouncing around our apartment, enrolled me in artistic gymnastics. That was fun for a few years, but I got bored with all the rules. Now, it’s me and the sky.

In winter, that means snowboarding every chance I get. In summer?

Running free.

At the other end of the rooftop, a metal safety rail lined the edge. I jumped up on the railing and impulsively tried a handstand and – the something shimmered in my peripheral vision, almost like the horizon was put together unevenly, no, that must have been the drone hovering — I shook my head to clear it, then--

Whoa! Ok. Balance check there.

That could have been bad… but what a rush!

Off I went again, ricocheting between the walls of the two buildings, and somersaulting into the park. I vaulted over the railing, jumped up to catch a bar of the jungle gym, using momentum to swing to another bar before throwing myself toward the soft sand at the end.

Out of breath, I slammed a water while Tosh recalled the drone and played back the footage.

“Fuck!” He was frowning into the camera.

“What, didn’t it record?” I rested my chin on his shoulder to peer at the replay. It looked like it recorded. It was already uploaded to the cloud, in fact.

“It recorded.” He rewound the video to the moment where it looked like I had almost fallen off the roof railing. “Katsuko – you could have been killed.”

“I wasn’t, though.” I broke into my energy bar stash and offered him one.

He pushed it away. “I’m done.”

I didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Wait. Don’t. I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” But he hugged me in spite of his harsh tone. “I can’t keep watching you chase death.”

“Stop it. I’m not like that.” I’m not like her. “That’s not what I’m doing.”

“What are you doing?”

“I…I don’t know.” It was the truth. All I knew is that I had to keep running, or there would come a day when I wouldn’t be able to get out of bed. “Let’s get out of here.”

No need to specify where. When Toshiie and I needed a place to talk or to think, or both, we’d head out to the Togakushi Shrine area. It was the one place that seemed to speak to both of us, although I knew that Tosh preferred the shrines, while I was happiest on the trails.

We took his bike out to the shrine, and once there, walked quietly through the 400 year old cedar trees that marked the path to the upper shrine. Finally he asked, “If I begged you to stop, could you?”

My throat closed up at the thought. “What is this? An intervention? It’s not like I’m an addict.”

“I think you kind of are, actually.”

Seriously? His Introduction to Psychology course was going to his head. But I knew that he meant every word. “Wait, ok, how about this. I’ll stop taking extreme risks, ok?” I could do that. At least I wouldn’t take any risks if he was watching. In a few months, when the mountains were covered with snow, I’d take my board out to X-JAM as often as possible, and scratch my risk-taking itch on the half-pipe. So… really, I only had to behave through the rest of summer and fall.

CRASH! BOOM!

Distracted by our discussion, we hadn’t noticed the weather changing, until the crackle of lightning startled both of us. Within minutes, rain was pouring buckets. 

“Once again, the weather forecast was completely wrong.” Tosh muttered curses at the weatherman as he tried to keep the rain off his gear.

The timing was bad, but aside from that, I love storms. Something about the electricity in the air makes me feel more alive. I tilted my face to the sky and – “That’s weird.”

“It’s water, doofus.” Getting rained on makes Tosh cranky.

The entire landscape was vanishing under a dark mist. “Tosh, have you ever seen a fog bank in a storm?”

“What are you -?” He finally looked up from his camera. “You’re right. This is weird.”

It was still thundering and lightning, but the rain had turned to a thick soupy fog that blotted out almost all light, the seeped around and into my body. We were fading, becoming as unsubstantial as the mist that poured through us.

Tosh raised his hand. It looked translucent. “What the hell?!” His words came out as a whisper, as if the fog had invaded his throat.

I felt dizzy and ill, like the time after I broke my ankle and had had an allergic reaction to the anesthesia. Tosh grabbed onto me, his arms spasmed around my back. I closed my eyes and buried my face in his shoulder. I could feel he was shaking, or maybe that was me, and then-

THUNK. The two of us crashed onto the ground, onto a carpet of what smelled like pine needles?

I cautiously opened my eyes. Yep. Pine needles. The storm had passed as quickly as it had begun, and the sun was as bright as midday, though it had to be close to eight or nine p.m. But in the bright sunlight, I felt cold. And… was that sn-?

Brrrrr – my hoodie was not nearly warm enough any more. But I was better off than Tosh in his windbreaker. “But, it’s summer,” was all I could think to say. I rubbed my hands together. “Reverse global warming?”

“Actually global warming has been known to cause odd weather patterns,” Tosh said absently as he fiddled with his phone. “No bars.”

I got mine out. Nope. No bars, no GPS.

Something else seemed… eerie. It was silence. The daily hum of electricity, distant traffic, airplanes, that background white noise was all the more conspicuous for its absence.

“The footpath is gone.” Tosh kicked at the now overgrown carpet of brush below us.

“So are the cedar trees.” We were still in a forest of sort, but the comforting presence of the giant cedars was no longer there.

“Theory?” In the back of my head was a rather loud voice telling me that there had been an apocalypse and we were both dead. Funny, after spending the last year of my life not caring whether or not I lived or died, now that the possibility was in front of me, I really hoped I wasn’t dead.

He held up three fingers. “I got three. Apocalypse – like the snap in The Infinity Gauntlet.”

So he was on the same mental path that I was. But were we victims of the snap, or the only ones left behind? “Or…?”

“Or maybe we’ve somehow slipped into a different version of our universe?” One finger left. “Or, maybe it’s something simpler. One of us is dreaming.”

Dream. Yeah. A dream would be an acceptable explanation. “You couldn’t have led with the theory that doesn’t involve mass death?”

Tosh shrugged. “I went with the bad news fir-“

“Shhh!” I put my hand over his mouth.

What was that noise?

The clang of metal.

Harsh voices…

Hoofbeats… horses?

Tosh and I held still, unsure whether this new twist would be an improvement or make things worse?

A group of men in armor – dressed as samurai?! – burst out of the trees, brandishing swords and pikes.

“Whoa!” Tosh looked at the lacquered armor that covered the warriors. “Someone’s LARP group is uber committed.”

The person who appeared to be their leader barked something at us, but their dialect and accent was harsh and unfamiliar. I wasn’t entirely sure what they were saying. But the gist was something along the lines of robbery and enslavement… I think…? Tosh and I looked at each other, and wordlessly decided that our best bet was to run.

Unfortunately, immediate danger didn’t make Tosh any less clumsy. He went sprawling over a log, and while I was trying to help him to his feet we were surrounded. “Tosh, do you understand what they are saying?”

He shook his head. “I think they want to sell us… to the nanban?”

I had no idea what the nanban was or why it wanted buy people, but they were examining us like merchandise, so that was probably the correct interpretation. They pulled my hair out of its ponytail, marveling over the turquoise streaks, which apparently meant they could get more money for me?

That’s enough! When one of them checked my teeth, I bit him. That earned me a hard punch to the stomach. Another man was fascinated by the zipper on my hoodie. When he managed to unzip it and got a look at my thin tank top, he muttered, “Woman.”

Alright, the good news at least is that I was developing a better ear for their dialect. The bad news was that I didn’t actually want to know what they planned to do with a female prisoner. When the leader came in to take a closer examination of my body, I reacted instinctively and kicked out. I saw the punch coming at me …

Oh this is going to hur--

What brought me back to consciousness was the sensation of cold and damp -- I had been dumped into a snow bank. There were sounds of clanking metal again, yelling, grunts, then a yelp of pain. I opened my eyes to see the apparent leader of the bandit gang fighting with an old man (said “old man” would, if he could hear me, object to me characterizing him that way, but in that moment, he seemed quite elderly). The old man had amazing fighting abilities, whirling and punching with a spear.

In no time, my captor was groaning on the ground, his leg bent at an odd angle.

“Come on child.” My rescuer hurried to my side and wrapped me up in a warm cloak. “You’ll catch your death of cold.”

Still dizzy from the blow to the head, it took a moment to realize that… “Wait. Where are the others?” Where’s Toshiie?

“Others? There was this one man and you.” The man gave a shrill whistle, and a horse whinnied in the distance, then trotted up to us.

I explained what had happened with the bandits. “The rest of them must still have my brother. We have to go back to get him.”

He shook his head. “They’re long gone by now.” But in spite of his protest, he took me up on his horse, and we headed back through the trees. He was correct though – they were long gone.

“Is there a way to track them?” If this man could fight, then maybe he could-

“Not in this storm.” The snow had increased from light cotton balls to a swirling curtain of fat flakes. I shuddered, partially from the cold, partially from the fear that this was another storm that would pick me up and dump me somewhere else. Somewhere worse, than wherever here was. I flinched from the thought of what would be worse than armed bandits who wanted to sell me into slavery.

Dinosaurs. Dinosaurs would be worse.

After a long, cold and ride up a steep path, we arrived at gated manor near the top of the mountain. The storm was raging, and my teeth were chattering by then. The man gave my outfit a critical look. “Do you have any other clothing? Anything more suited for a woman?”

“No. When I left my – home – this afternoon, I expected to return in a couple hours.” I had no idea how much time (ha!) had passed. More than a couple of hours. More than a day. More than a century.

He helped me down – my legs had gotten cramped and stiff during the ride. “Where is your home? When the storm ends, I can send one of my apprentices to take you back.”

“It’s not going to be that simple,” I said, after getting a good look at a building that looked like it had been constructed recently – but it was an architectural style that I recognized from samurai houses that I had visited on school trips. That, along with the evidence of the missing cedar trees, and the men in armor, was leading me to a conclusion that I wouldn’t have believed if I hadn’t been in the middle of it.

But to announce that I was from a few hundred years in the future seemed to me to be the fastest way to get a one-way ticket to whatever this era’s version of a psychiatric hold was, so, instead, I simply said, “Our home was destroyed by the storm.”

He gave me the universal “I don’t believe you,” look, but he didn’t press the issue. In the years since, I have never told Yamaoka Akihira (that’s his name, but he lets us call him Aki) the truth about where I came from, but I’ve also managed, thanks to him, to become a much better liar.

“Alright,” he finally said, as we entered his house. “Do you have anywhere else to go?”

“No.” I was grateful to be out of the wind and snow, and not particularly interested in going back outside.

He rubbed his chin – a gesture that I’ve since come to recognize as his only “tell” that he’s calculating out several moves in an extended mental shogi game, before saying, “I suppose it’s a good thing that I hadn’t yet found a new maid.”

[jessegrayson]

Scream: Class Reunion

We open on a young couple. Miguel and Oliver- two young men out on a date leaving a movie. They’re high schoolers- one tall handsome and cool, wearing a leather jacket and jeans. He smiles and it's like the sun rising in the night. It's late- the parking lot is basically empty save for a few cars from the restaurant that shares the lot.

A deep orange moon hangs in the sky above, obscured by some stringy stray clouds. Miguel is smiling down at his date for the evening. He is shorter, preppier, and beaming with nervousness. The two had never been on a public date before. Clandestine trysts at parties and scant kisses in between classes were nothing compared to this- being together like normal people.

They’re talking excitedly about the movie they’d just seen. A horror movie. It's not unusual in their town, horror movies. In fact, they were so common the general population could have done without a new one for quite a while.

The city of Woodsboro didn't have the pleasure of being a general viewer of slasher movies. Here- horror movies weren't just something you got to watch, they were something you lived. It had been 10 years since the last 'sequel' and there was a quiet in the air that felt familiar. It felt like the camera, among other things, are about to roll.

They stop in the parking lot as the lights of the theater begin to shut off. Oliver and Miguel say their goodbyes and part with a single soft kiss. Oliver grins to himself as they part and turn to walk to their cars. He didn't feel like this was real. It was one thing for the soulful bad boy to be all over you in secret but they were like on a date. He didn't kid himself, there were a lot of words to describe him but cool wasn't one of them. Sheltered? Maybe. Studious? Definitely. Kinda slutty? Only in the YA books he secretly wrote in study hall. But cool? Definitely not one of them.

Miguel was cool. Genuinely cool. He was tall, gorgeous, carefree, and always showed just enough of his stomach when he stretched to show off his happy trail and defined abs. He was way out of Oliver's league- but here they were. On a date.

Oliver arrives at his care and moves to fish his keys from his jacket pocket. He pauses, still aglow. Behind him we see Miguel turn back in the distance. He looks like he wants to say something. A sneaky grin spreads across his face- His arm raises but he stops as he is suddenly engulfed by a hooded figure and pulled into the shadows between cars. Oliver doesn't notice.

He pulls out his keys and looks back over to Miguel- likely still getting into his car... only there's nothing there. His brow furrows in confusion. Had he left already? It didn't look like any of the cars had moved but he also wasn't really focusing on them. Oliver was just about to call Miguel's name when-

his phone rings.

He blinks, looking at it- it’s Miguel. That same bright smile looks back at him from the caller ID. Oliver smiles to himself and answers. "Calling me already? Aren’t you afraid you’re going to come off despy?"

There's a silence on the other end. It's hollow. Maybe it was the movie he'd just seen but it felt foreboding.

"Oh- um, hi." A voice finally spoke up on the other end of the call. It definitely wasn't Miguel. The voice didn't have the same playful confidence. "I think someone left their phone in the theater?"

"Oh! I’m sorry-" He shook his head. The one and only time he'd playfully answered a call without stumbling over his words and it was a theater usher. "Uhm, yeah. I think this is my friend's phone. We were just in the movie."

Oliver looks around for Miguel to see if he'd maybe missed him before- but he was all alone.

"Oh? Is he there with you."

Oliver suddenly feels vulnerable. "No, he just left."

"Fuck" The guy on the other end of the phone blurts out. He's clearly tired and just wants to go home. "But you know whose phone this is, right?"

"Yeah, you couldn't miss us." Oliver crosses his arms over his chest. "It wasn't exactly a packed theater."

"Oh yeah, I think I remember checking you two in." The voice replies. There's something behind his words that feels snake-like. Knowing. "Just a friend, huh?"

"Yeah something like that."

"Well uhm, I have to finish some closing stuff in here but if you want you can come grab your friend's phone."

Oliver looks around for any other sign of life. Even the restaurant across the parking lot sounded like it had closed down for the night. He turned back to the theater and it looked the same- dark, empty. Granted- this theater had seen much better days. It was older and didn't see big crowds with blockbusters let alone horror sequels that were less than hyped. "Okay." He said, moving across the parking lot towards the doors.

"The doors are still unlocked. Let yourself in."

Oliver got to the doors and pushed- it was locked. "Uhm, no. The door is locked." He could hear something inside moving around. He'd expected the door to pop open- but nothing moved.

"Oh sorry, someone must have locked it. We keep the last door on the left open for employees to take the trash out. Try that one."

Oliver looked down the row of doors- the entrance in question was steeped in shadow at the very end of the building. He took in a sharp breath and started walking towards the door. He could feel the fear rising him his throat but he shoved it down. "Stop being stupid." He scolded himself as he slowly crept away from the light of the entrance and into the darkness. of the night. "You're just freaking out because of the stupid movie."

"You still there?" The voice asks, causing Oliver to jump out of his own skin in surprise. "Whoah- you okay? I didn't scare you, did I?"

"No," Oliver grips the door handle and pulls the door open freely. Finally. He can get in and get out. "It's open. I'm coming in."

"I wouldn't blame you. I get spooked after watching scary movies too." He paused. "Are you into scary movies?"

"Yeah, I guess. I mean I grew up in Woodsboro so it's kind of a prerequisite." He's entered through an exit door at the end of a long hall of enclaves that lead to the theaters. The signs above them still glow with their final showtimes of the night. He can see the lobby down the hallway.

"Yeah, I guess." The voice replied, languishing in a moment that felt like silk coming over the phone. It was like whoever he was talking to relished saying these words. "What's your favorite scary movie?"

"Oh come on." Oliver chuckles to himself. "Really? That tired old line?"

"What's wrong? It's a classic for a reason."

"Maybe in the nineties or something." Oliver relaxes a little. Just being in the safety of the building helps him with feeling less anxious. "Don't get me wrong, Stab movies are a staple of the genre but they're not scary anymore."

"You think?"

"It's the nature of a franchise. Eventually the killer just becomes a joke. Look at Michael Myers- they've rebooted that franchise to Hell." Oliver nears the end of the hallway and pauses. The lights are low and there's a vague shape standing by the doors- shrouded in darkness.

"Michael Myers is just a movie." The voice replies, his voice is lower. It's darker- familiar. "The Stab movies are real. Based on true events."

"Yeah but not..." Oliver stumbles over his words, not taking his eyes off of the shape in the lobby. "all of them."

"And what's why they've gotten so bad. Do you wanna know what makes a good Stab movie?" The voice pauses, waiting for Oliver to come to the realization of where he is. "True events to base them on."

"That's not funny," Oliver states, he can feel himself trembling. He starts to step back towards the hallway, preparing to run for the door that he'd entered through. He started to mentally retrace his steps and make a plan. Run. Door. Run. Keys. Car. Go.

"Where are you going? Don't you want your friend's phone?"

Oliver stops. He's definitely being watched. It was now or never. He hangs up his phone and immediately takes off towards the back entrance. He slams into the door, pushing with the weight of his entire body- but it won't budge. The door is locked. "Fuck!" He yelled out in frustration and tried pushing at it again.

It wouldn't move.

The sound of a door opening and closing in the lobby echoed through the theater. Whoever locked the door must have come back inside. He must have come back in. Oliver cursed himself for coming inside the building- hating himself for even going on this date and trying to move forward with Miguel. If he'd just stayed in his lane and understood their differences were defining- he wouldn't be here in this theater with a psychopathic Stab fanatic.

Another sound in the lobby breaks the silence of the theater and Oliver knows it's time to move. He pushes away from the door and dips into the enclave of the first theater door. Hidden out of view he tries to open the door- it won't budge. Oliver peers around the corner and into the hallway- it was clear. He darts into the next enclave, doing his best to stay out of view.

just as he tries the door, it flings open and a black shrouded figure bursts out of the doorway, knocking Oliver off of his feet.

From here Oliver is chased through the lobby and we see all the decor and posters for STAB X: THE NEXT GENERATION plastering the walls.

The killer ends up chasing Oliver into an empty theater where we get the reveal of Miguel’s body. After a hide n seek in between the rows of the chairs- he is gutted in front of the screen and then hoisted up by the neck.

The camera lights up bathing his dead body in shaky footage that settles on a large shot of the Ghostface mask with Quinn’s bleeding corpse resting between the eyes, his blood smearing across the screen.

CUT TO TITLE

FADE IN: JILL’S APARTMENT

We open with Jill. She gets up and we see a scar on her stomach before she slides a robe on and starts the shower. It’s a normal morning for her. She walks into the living room and opens the windows up and we see the beautiful skyline of Seattle. She grabs a bottle of water from her fridge and hears her phone start ringing. She doesn’t recognize the number so she ends the call- and sees the notifications on her phone going crazy. The latest is from Kirby: TURN ON GALE’S SHOW.

She turns the TV on and we angle on Gale Weathers’ morning show.

Angle on TV: Gale is reporting on the murder of two teenagers in Woodsboro.

CUT TO: CHARLIE’S APARTMENT

We pull back to see Charlie watching the same report in his own apartment. He’s dressed for the day, watching intently with a bag across his chest. He was clearly about to head out when he got the text.

Holding on the concern on his face, we hear Gale explaining the details: Teenagers were posed like Casey and Steve, were dating, and found by theater staff the next morning. We see their school pictures on the screen. They were at the theater seeing the latest Stab movie- the one based on Noah Reid’s rampage through Woodsboro 10 years ago.

CUT TO: KIRBY’S STUDIO

Angling back on Gale for a moment we transition to Kirby Reed, who is moving through her studio apartment, throwing things onto her bed next to an open bag. Her phone sits black screened on the bed next to it. She feels rushed, manic. She’s been dreading this day and after an amount of time- she had hoped that it wouldn’t have happened.

Her phone chimes and lights up- Robbie is calling her. She grabs the phone and answers.

CUT TO: WOODSBORO CINEMA

Robbie, clad in a Woodsboro Deputy uniform, has turned away from the crime scene and speaks closely into the phone. Kirby grills him for information but he isn’t giving anything away. She asks if there’s a reason for them to be afraid and he stays silent. There’s something he isn’t telling her. He tells her that he will see her soon, implying that there’s something he can’t say. They hang up and he looks back at the crime scene.

Oliver, still hanging with his internal organs spilling out onto the stage floor. Robbie walks back over to the scene and where Miguel’s shoulders is a Woodsboro letterman jacket with the last name ‘SHELDON’.

[obeythedemons]

When his heart first skipped a beat [Obey Me! Headcanons]

Obey Me! Masterlist

--

Lucifer

"No," MC stood their ground in front of him. He narrowed his eyes and told them to move once more. "I'm not moving, you need your rest." They spread their arms out as if their body would be enough to stop him. "I'm going to take care of your brothers, you go to bed."

"Who do you think you are ordering me around? You don't have a pact with me," he lowered his voice in an attempt to intimidate them.

"Your friend," MC replied, not at all scared of him. Instead, they looked up at him with a look that made him want to take a step back.

He felt his heart squeeze and his eyes widened at the sensation. He shook his head. Perhaps the exhaustion was giving him heart palpitations.

"Fine," he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "But once I wake up, things had better be in order."

Mammon

"I don't want to make a pact with him like this, Levi," he heard MC talking in the kitchen. He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest as he continued to eavesdrop.

"I want my money back, MC," Levi whined. "If you make a pact with him you can force him to give it back to me."

"But forcing someone to do something isn't right," MC protested.

"If he forms the pact with you, then that's his fault!"

"But holding Goldie hostage?" Mammon's eyes widened at the thought of his credit card being found. He peeked around the corner, seeing MC chipping away at the ice block surrounding his precious card.

"Just do it, MC," Levi said with a roll of his eyes.

"I don't want to use Mammon like that," MC murmured, sadness evident on their face. He felt his heart squeeze at the sight of someone not wanting to treat him like the scumbag he is. Taking a deep breath, he sauntered into the kitchen. Maybe he'd let them think they'd form a pact with him just for Goldie.

Leviathan

"Hey Levi!" he heard MC's voice from behind his door. He rolled his eyes and shared a look with Henry 2.0.

"Password?" Levi called back, going back to gaming.

"I-I don't know it," he heard MC mutter. "I-sorry, I just wanted to see if you wanted to watch some anime from the human world with me?"

His fingers froze as they were keying out commands to his character. With a sigh, he paused the game and dragged himself to the door. He looked at them, expecting them to laugh at his face.

"Human world anime?" he questioned.

"Uhuh," MC grinned and held up a disc set. "It's my favorite one."

"W-wait!" Leviathan took a step back. "You like anime?"

MC tilted their head to the side. "Well, yeah?"

He gulped. His heart skipped a beat before pounding away heavily.

Satan

"Just put it on, MC," Asmo cooed. "I promise he'll love it."

"I don't know," MC sounded reluctant.

With a sigh, Satan looked up from his book to Asmo's closet where the other two were. "What are you trying to make MC do, Asmo?"

"Oh hush!" Asmo stuck his head out of the closet. "You'll see in just a second!" Asmo winked at Satan before heading back in. "Just wear it, MC! Please!"

He heard MC let out an exasperated breath of air followed by Asmo's cheering. Asmo sauntered out of the closet with a wide grin on his face, but when he looked at Satan that grin turned mischievous.

Satan narrowed his eyes at him. "What did you do?" Before Asmo could answer, Satan's attention was diverted to the soft footsteps of MC leaving the closet. His eyes widened, his heart skipped several beats to where he was wondering if he was dying, he felt a rush of heat spread across his face.

"Do they look stupid?" MC questioned, adjusting the cat ears they were wearing.

"They look fine," Satan answered quickly, burying his face in his book, but unable to read with the image of MC stuck in his face.

Asmodeus

He smiled seductively at the camera before hitting a snack. After the photo was taken, he hummed with content as he looked it over. Perfect angle. Perfect lighting. Perfect model. It was a perfect photo, but for some reason, he had no desire to post it on Devilgram. Not, his desire was to share it with one person.

"And send," he spoke, sending his selfie to MC.

It only took a few seconds before they responded.

MC: !!!!!

MC: It's not fair how beautiful you are!

Asmo chuckled before typing away.

Asmo: Let me see how cute you are <3

It took a couple of seconds before a photo popped up. Asmo let a snort come out. He hid his face with his hands from the rather unattractive noise that just came out.

He peaked at the photo of MC making the most unattractive face possible. He burst out laughing, his heart dancing about happily.

Beelzebub

He had just gotten back from practice and starving was an understatement. He was sweating, his hands were shaking, he felt nauseated, he felt like he was going to die from his hypoglycemic episode. He stumbled into the kitchen, searching desperately for food.

"Beel! Perfect timing," he faintly heard MC's voice call, but he couldn't see them. His vision was getting blurry. "Beel?" Their voice sounded concerned. He narrowed his eyes, trying to focus, but the hunger was becoming too much.

"Food," he managed to get out as he put most of his body weight on the kitchen counter. He was getting dizzy.

A couple of seconds later, he felt something press up against his lips. He opened his mouth and swallowed whatever it was. There was more. This time, he noticed it was sweet and he chewed it. It was crunchy.

His vision started to focus back. He looked down seeing MC frown up at him. They held a batch of cookies in their hands.

"Are you okay?" they asked quietly. Beel nodded his head, eyeing the other cookie. MC let out a breath of relief before they handed him another. He happily ate it, savoring the sweet taste. "Do they taste okay? I baked them just for you?"

Beel's heart thumped heavily. "Just for me?" he questioned with his mouth fool. He swallowed the cookies and smiled happily. "They taste amazing!"

Belphegor

"Belphie," he heard a distant voice call to him. Although, this voice didn't seem to be too distant, just in the realm of the waking. "Belphie, if you sleep here you'll catch get cold."

Belphie reached his arms out and tightly gripped the person shaking his shoulder. They yelped as he brought them close to him. His arms wrapped around them.

"Then keep me warm," he retorted. He buried his face in their chest. He froze when he inhaled. It wasn't the sent of his brothers, but someone else.

He peaked his eyes opened, seeing MC close to him. His heart thumped heavily at MC's bewildered expression. With a yawn, he sat up, acting like he wasn't affected by MC's scent. It was comforting, warm.

Diavolo

MC was sitting at his desk while he finished up some paperwork. He had expected to be finished with them by the time MC got there, but alas, here he was.

"Lord Diavolo?" MC questioned, drawing the demon prince of Hell from his work.

"Yes, MC?"

"Do you like being called Lord Diavolo?" He looked up at them, seeing them look off to the side, refusing to make eye contact with him.

"I suppose if I had friends, I wouldn't want them to call me Lord Diavolo."

MC pouted, their lips sticking out. "You don't consider us friends?"

Diavolo's eyes widened. A painful sensation burst from his heart, though he wouldn't call it unpleasant. In fact, he wanted to feel it again.

"I would very much like to consider us friends."

"Good, Dia," MC grinned widely at him, making his heart flutter once more.

Barbatos

He was looking everywhere for the human. Somehow, they had gotten separated at the market. Something had caught his eye and he wandered off, but he had a sneaking suspicion that the same thing also happened with MC.

"Help!" he heard the human screech. His eyes widened as he sprinted to where the scream came from. A demon was towering over their form, salivating at the sight of the human's soul.

With a flick of his wrist, the demon was sent flying through a wall. Barbatos grabbed MC's hand and dragged them away from the alleyway they were trapped in.

"Are you hurt?" Barbatos asked once they were a distance away. His eyes trailed over MC's form, looking for any scratches or bruises.

"No," MC mumbled, looking down shamefully.

Barbatos frowned. "What's wrong?"

"I..." MC sighed. "I ruined our trip to the market together, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Barbatos shook his head. "All that matters is that you're not injured."

MC gave him a weak smile. "Thank you, Barbatos." They paused for a moment. "Oh! That's right." They dug through their bag. "I bought this for you. It's not much, but I wanted to thank you for bringing me here today." Barbatos's eyes landed on a bouquet of lilacs. "They're flowers from the human realm! I was surprised to see them here."

Barbatos felt his cheeks heat up and his heart dance about. Lilacs, the flowers indicating the first sign of love.

Simeon

"And how have you been adjusting here?" Simeon questioned as he took a sip of his tea. He smiled kindly at MC. "I know it's been a couple of months now, but a lot has happened since then."

"It has," MC nodded. "To be honest, I was surprised to actually meet some demons and a couple of angels, I didn't know what to think. Humans have some pre-conceived notions on angels and demons, but seeing as I've never met one, I didn't want to let that cloud my judgment."

Simeon chuckled. "That's a very diplomatic way of seeing things."

MC shook their head. "I didn't do it to try and protect myself or get anything from any of you, I wanted to get to know all of you for who you are, not what you are. And after I got to know you, I wanted to be your friend!"

Simeon smiled brightly at MC, loving the feeling of his heart skipping a beat at their kindness.

Solomon

"Just hold still for a moment," Solomon warned as he glanced at his book. "Alright, let me just...." He trailed off into muttering the encantation. His eyes flickered off from the book to where MC was standing in the circle. "How are you feeling?"

MC blinked at him. Their eyes drooping shut. "Tired." Their knees buckled and they started to fall forward. Cursing, Solmon rushed forward and caught them in his arms before they could hit the wooden blanks below.

"Are you okay?" he questioned, manipulating their body so he could look at their face.

They gave him a lopsided grin. "Just need...some sleep. But the encantation should help with insomnia," MC yawned. Their eyes drifting shut. "But maybe not with relaxing, this is a bit...too much." MC turned and buried their face in his chest. "Protect me while I sleep?"

Solomon's face turned a bright red. He adjusted MC a bit so that he was able to hold them tightly against him. "Of course, I'll always protect you." He ignored the wild hammering in his chest, opting to look after his fellow human.

[meltwonu]

24. “Behave.”

25. “What did you just say?”

41. “You make a sound and its game over.”

notes; actor!chan, actress!reader, dom!chan, fingering, loads ‘o teasing! WELCOME TO THE NEW DRABBLE CYCLE!! 🥸🥂 This time we will be exploring the world of actors, idols, and everything in between~ heheh~ 😈 🤭  Also happy late lunar new year~! 🎊🎉 I hope y’all had a good one! I spent it… well, if you saw my work update you know how i spent it LOL ROugh but y’kno HAHAH 😭😮‍💨 Very excited for this cycle, I've got some ideas up my sleeve so 😵‍💫 very excited to hash them out~ Thank you for your patience as always as I struggle to get on my feet 😭✨💕 And thank you for requesting! Enjoy 💕

*queued post.

“What did you just say?”

Chan rolls his eyes, script in hand as he sighs. “I said, we should practice.”

“Practice… The sex scene?” You raise a brow at him - your own copy of the script clutched tightly in your hands. “W–why would we need to do that?”

Your cheeks are warm as he laughs and advances towards you, walking you backwards until the back of your calves hit the sofa.

You and Chan were both cast as lovers in an upcoming film and the two of you had taken the time to rehearse some of the scenes together to make it seem more believable on screen. 

And while the chemistry had definitely been there - you were definitely shy when it came to being around Chan who had more experience with faking it on screen.

“I checked out your previous roles, you don’t seem to have much experience with it.” 

He chuckles softly when he sees the look on your face, “Not that it’s a bad thing. But if we’re going to be pretending, don’t you think we should practice? We have to make it believable, right? We’re supposed to be lovers.”

“Y–yeah, I–I suppose so but how–”

He reaches a hand out and pushes you gently; a soft gasp escaping your lips as you stumble backwards and find yourself lying against the sofa cushions.

“Mm, in the scene, I’m supposed to be upset with you after you don’t show up for our date. Let’s start there.”

Chan smirks and eases himself over you; his knee between your parted legs as you hold your breath.

“‘You know I waited for you all night, baby? Why didn’t you show up for our date?’”

He waits a moment, urging you to say your line as your head becomes scrambled with each second that passes with him hovering above you.

“C’mon…”

“A–ah… ‘M–my boss asked me to stay later at work, so I–I couldn’t say no…’”

Chan shoots you a praising look before he continues - his hands dancing all across your clothed torso as you let out a small whimper.

“‘You know how jealous I get, baby… I don’t want you to forget me, y’know? You’re always doing overtime at work lately and spending less time with me.’”

Gulping, you reach a shaky arm out, placing it on his own forearm as you guide his hand between your legs.

“‘I–a-ah, I could never… I’m sorry, how can I make it u-up to y-you?’”

Your body heats up when you feel his fingertips flexing between your shaky thighs; stuttered breaths on your lips at the feeling of him inching closer and closer to where you wanted him.

You’d obviously been intimate with lovers before and had one or two sex scenes in movies, but something about the way Chan looked at you made it feel real and made your panties wet just thinking about him and his fingers knuckle deep inside of you.

Up until you remembering the scene would be fake and all camera angles.

“Wait–Chan, we–we’re just practicing the scene so…”

He chuckles under his breath and moves away only slightly - licking his lips as he watches your expressions.

“Ah, you’re right… Silly me, I forgot. I was about to… Ah, well.”

Chan’s about to move away when your grip on his arm tightens.

“I-I mean... We should m-maybe practice the c-camera angles...”

He smirks, shaking off your hand as he drags your skirt up far enough until it starts to bunch up around your waist.

“You’re right... We have to be sure it looks real from any angle, right?” 

“R-right...”

You hold your breath as he gently drags his fingers up and down your clothed mound - legs already trembling from his teasing touch. 

“If the camera is filming from the side, you’ll have to make sure your legs are spread nice and wide... And pull them up closer to your chest too~ It’ll make it easier for your legs to cover my hand.”

Nodding, you do as you’re told as a rush of wetness soaks into your panties. 

“W–what if the camera, m–mmh, is f-filming from above...?”

“Then I’ll just have to bring my hand down further... Like this~”

You let out a whimper as Chan’s hand moves downward; teasing you through your wet panties as he pokes and prods until he finally moves your panties to the side to touch you properly.

“O–oh, Chan, I–”

“Behave.” He grits out, “Our managers are in the waiting room next to us, remember?”

“W–we can just s-say it was p-part of, ngh, rehearsals...”

Chan throws his head back laughing as he slowly runs his fingertips through your wetness - collecting it on his fingers before he positions his middle finger at your entrance. 

“Your moans and whines as part of us rehearsing?” 

You swivel your hips, trying to get him to give you what you wanted. 

“B–believable, right?” 

A clipped moan rolls off of your tongue just as Chan’s middle finger starts to inch into your wet cunt - his thumb simultaneously on your clit as your walls tighten around the digit on instinct.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t think they’ll believe that if you start getting too loud once I get you to cum on my fingers. And the second you get a taste of my cock, they’ll come running in here.” He grins, “You make a sound and it’s game over, okay~? Let’s keep this rehearsal going as long as we can~”

[vendettaparker]

Reckless [T.H]

Summary: In a fit of jealousy, Tom embarrasses you in front of your new friend and the entire pub, leaving you heartbroken at his reckless actions.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Swearing, angst, slut-shaming 

a/n: hi! sorry this took so so so long for me to get out! i got super busy with other works, but i’m super happy with how this turned out :) i hope you enjoy this, and don’t worry, i know how scary those warnings look ^ but this ends happy, i promise! as always, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Tom was an idiot. He was an actual fucking idiot. He now realizes that as he watches you run out of the pub with hot tears streaming down your face. He watches as Harry runs after you, your bag in his hand, probably to make sure you make it back home safe since there was no way you’d return to the crowded bar, where Harrison and Sam were giving Tom death glares, the same little pub where Tom had made a complete fool out of you. 

The few months Tom came home to London were always the setting of your most cherished memories. Sometimes it seemed like when he left so did the whole group of friends you surround yourself with.

There was no doubt in your mind that Tom was the life of the party. He had a certain aura about him that caused some of the most fucked up, but amazing situations to occur. That was probably one of the reasons you loved him so much. 

When he was in town, his brothers, Harrison, and Tuwaine all joined together to make the next few months memorable before he had to leave again, and you were always included, but when he was gone, Harry usually went with him, Harrison focused on work for himself, and Sam focused on his restaurant. The world slowed down after Tom left, and so many times, you were left to wait for his return; alone. 

Tom hated leaving you behind every time he went back to the states, but you had such deep roots in London, he didn’t want to pry you from your family for months on end. He loved you too much to constantly subject you to his hectic lifestyle. He spent as much time with you as he could when he saw you, but the second he had to go, it was all tearful goodbyes in a crowded airport. 

You and Tom had been best friends for decades at this point. You supported him no matter what it was that he wanted to accomplish. He’s even said in interviews that he credits a huge bulk of his success to his friend back home, then he’d give a wink to the camera, and you always knew it was for you. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

When Tom came home after filming Spider-Man: No Way Home, you practically tackled him to the ground in a hug. 

“You div,” You mumbled into his neck, “you forgot to let me FaceTime with Zendaya.” 

“Oh, shit!” Tom gasped, finally remembering your request to talk to your favorite actress, “my bad.”

You looked at Tom incredulously, “I don’t think I can be friends with you anymore.” You feigned hurt, clutching your hand to your chest, “it just hurts too much.” 

“That’s a damn shame,” Tom frowned, “I mean, I could just FaceTime Zendaya now, but if that’s how you—”

“I changed my mind,” You smiled sweetly, cutting him off, “love you, bestie.” 

Tom rolled his eyes and pulled you into another hug, “Missed you, bestie.” 

“Um,” Sam, Paddy, and Harrison stood behind you, clearing their throats. 

“Missed you guys too,” Tom sighed, and he rushed over and gave his brothers and friend a hug.

You gave Harry a hug while Tom chatted with his brothers, quickly catching up with him. 

“What’s the plan for tonight, guys?” You spoke up. 

Every night after Tom got back, he’d go back to his flat and take a nap before a night out on the town. Usually, you’d bar hop a bit before going to a club, so tonight wasn’t likely to be any different. 

“I was thinking we could get dinner at Lorenzo’s,” Harry said, “then maybe hit the pub on Ashford?”

You and the others nodded in agreement as you made your way out of the airport.

“Can I invite my friend Avery?” You asked. 

Tom nodded, “Sure, I didn’t even know you had any other friends, (Y/N),” he joked.

“Haha,” You laughed sarcastically, “gee that was a good one, Tom. You really got me.” 

“What can I say?” He smirked, “I’m a comedian.” 

“Is that the guy you met in your philosophy lecture?” Harrison butt in.

“Yeah,” You nodded, “he’s really sweet, so be on your best behavior guys, and maybe don’t be yourselves, just this once?” you suggested with a slightly teasing tone. 

“Are you trying to impress him or something?” Tom inquired.

“No,” You scoffed, “I’m just trying to not throw him to the wolves.” 

Tom laughed along, but it was strained. He wasn’t too keen on the idea of adding a new member to your friend group, and the little glint in your eye when you talked about Avery made his heart tighten. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Okay,” You smiled as you set the last of Tom’s luggage in his living room, “I’ll let you get some sleep then.”

You gave him one last hug and a kiss on the cheek, “see you later.” 

Tom reciprocated and inhaled the sweet smell of lavender in your locks of hair, “mhm,” he sighed, “see ya.” 

Harrison was about to walk out after you when Tom grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back, “Mate, what the fuck.” he grumbled as he stumbled over his feet, “I thought you wanted to take a nap?”

“I slept on the plane,” Tom explained quickly, “you’ve been here the whole time, right?” Harrison nodded, “so you know this Avery guy, yeah?”

Harrison shook his head, “I haven’t talked to (Y/N) much this past month, but he’s probably on her Instagram.” 

Harrison pulled out his phone and looked at posts you’d been tagged in, “Ah, here.” He handed the phone to Tom and pointed to the tall blonde guy in a group photo with you and some other friends, “He’s the tall blonde.” 

Tom studied the picture with a small frown, “They’re not dating though, right?”

“She said he was her friend,” Harrison shrugged.

“You know what I mean,” Tom rolled his eyes, “do they look really chummy to you?”

“His hand’s kind of close to her butt, but other than that I don’t know.” Harrison pointed it out, causing Tom’s heart to momentarily stop. 

“Ok, new plan,” Tom announced, “I’m going to ask (Y/N) out tonight.” 

Harrison scoffed and rolled his eyes. “What?” Tom wondered.

“You’ve said that almost every single time you’ve been home and you always chicken out.”

“No, I don’t!” Tom gasped in offense, “It’s just hard to find the right time.”

“You’ve literally had hundreds of opportunities to tell her how you feel, Mate.”

“It has to be perfect.” Tom insisted, “I can’t just ask her out of the blue, I have to butter her up first.”

“That’s dumb.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Tom groaned, “get out, I changed my mind, I’m going to sleep.” 

Harrison rolled his eyes and chuckled before giving Tom a pat on the back and leaving. Tom waved goodbye as Harrison drove away, and then rushed to his phone. 

“FaceTime Zendaya,” he instructed Siri. The call went through and soon Tom was met with Zendaya's tired eyes in a dark room. 

“Hey, Z!” Tom said cheerfully, “best friend, bestest pal in the world. The person that never wants to see me fail ever, my greatest companion—“

“Tom,” Zendaya groggily cut him off, “what the fuck do you want, I’m sleeping.” 

“How do you ask a girl out?”

Zendaya sat up a little more and turned on her bedside lamp, “What? You don’t know how to ask a girl out?”

“Well I do,” Tom backtracked, “but I want it to be special. I’ve been in love with this girl for nearly two years now and every time I go to ask her out, I chicken out.”

“I don’t know, what does she like?”

“Well one time she told me her favorite animal was a sea otter, should I get her one?” Tom pondered, hand resting in his chin in thought. 

“Um, no, what the fuck?” Zendaya squinted her eyes at Tom, “have you gotten any sleep yet?” 

Tom shook his head, “This is important, Z, now help me!” 

Zendaya rolled her eyes, “I’ll text you some ideas, but for now just go get some sleep. With how tired you are now you’d probably call her the wrong name or something.” 

Tom rolled his eyes, but the action caused his eyelids to droop even more, “Fine, fine,” he conceded, “I’ll let you know how it goes.” 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Okay,” Tom announced at the restaurant before you arrived, “I’m going to ask (Y/N) out tonight so I need you all to shut up and not distract me or make me nervous.”

Harrison, Harry, and Sam just stared at Tom. Tuwaine, for some unknown reason, started clapping. 

“Tom,” Harrison began, “no offense, but—“

“Ah ah ah,” Tom stopped him, “is what you’re about to say going to bruise my ego?” Harrison thought about it for a moment before slowly nodding, “okay, then shut the fuck up, respectfully. I don’t need any bad juju tonight.” 

“Well, I’m happy for you, Mate,” Tuwaine nodded. He was the closest to you after Tom and he knew all about your crush on the brown-haired Brit. You might’ve let it slip once when you were drunk, and since you didn’t willingly tell Tuwaine, he was sworn to secrecy. “I’m positive she’ll say yes.” 

“Thank you,” Tom smiled at him, sending a slight glare to the others for their lack of faith in him. “As for the rest of you, I can’t wait to prove you wrong.” 

You walked into the restaurant with Avery hunched over from laughing so hard. Tom smiled in your direction and waved you over, “Hey, (Y/N/N)! Over here!”

“Wow,” You chuckled, “must’ve been a good nap. Little energetic there, huh?” 

Tom went in to give you a tight hug, holding you close, “Just missed you,” he mumbled into your hair. 

“I just saw you a few hours ago?”

Avery stood by you awkwardly, waiting for Tom to release you. Tom reluctantly let you go and pulled a chair out for you, next to him. 

“Thanks,” you smiled at him, motioning for Avery to sit next to you, “hey, everyone,” you smiled at the group of boys that were properly about to piss themselves at Tom’s over-the-top behavior, “this is Avery.” 

“Hi,” He waved at the group as a small chorus of ‘hellos’ rang across the table. He turned to Tom to shake his hand, “I’m a big fan, Mate. Love your work.” 

Tom smiled and patted him on the shoulder, “Thanks, it means a lot.” smiled politely, shaking Avery's hand. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Dinner went off without a hitch, at least in your opinion. Avery was melding well with your friends and he was cracking jokes like he’d know the group for years. 

The boys seemed to enjoy his sense of humor and what he added to the conversation. Sam and him even found that they shared an interest in cooking, which led to them having a slightly heated discussion about how real Gordon Ramsey’s cooking skills are; which ended in laughs. 

However, Tom was probably having one of the worst nights of his life. Every time Avery playfully shoved you while you two laughed he wanted to wring his neck. It also didn’t help that he couldn’t find the perfect time to ask you out. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to ask you out with all of his mates around. 

Tom smiled and laughed along with the jokes, but once you looked away he was back to frowning. 

“Tom,” Harry nudged his brother, “wipe that scowl off your face.” 

“I’m not scowling,” Tom grumbled, “this is my normal face.” 

Harry rolled his eyes and kicked his older brother under the table, “You need to ask her soon. I think Avery is trying to make some moves on her.” Harry noticed, seeing how Avery casually had his arm around your chair. 

Tom rolled his eyes, “As if I can't see that for myself,” he scoffed. “I don’t want to ask her with all of you watching. What if she says no?” 

“We can leave you alone for a bit when we go to the pub, but I’m not sure if Avery will go with us.” Harry shrugged, “you could always ask her out tomorrow.” Harry suggested. 

“No!” Tom exclaimed, causing everyone to look at him and Harry, “Sorry, I—um, I just don’t really like that shirt on you Harry; it makes my eyes hurt.” 

Harry looked down at his shirt for a moment and then frowned, sending a light smack to Tom, “You bought me this shirt you div.”

Everyone went back to their own conversations so Tom leaned in to talk to Harry some more, “I can’t wait for tomorrow. What if I chicken out again?”

“Then you’re an idiot.” Harry deadpanned with a shrug. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The pub was way more packed than anyone expected. The new addition of live music to the outside patio definitely livened up the place and more customers went to see what local band would be playing next. 

The pub had a classic English pub feel, with the wood flooring and the yellow-tinted walls, but it also had a modern twist with a back patio and outdoor seating with fairy lights, and the lights that illuminate under the bar itself. 

“I’m gonna go check out the band,” Harry announced after he came back with your drinks, “you guys should all come with me.” He said with a slight side-eye to Sam, Tuwaine, and Harrison. 

“Eh, I’m not really into—” Sam began, but Harry sent him a quick kick under the table. “Ow! I mean, I love music.” Sam smiled enthusiastically. 

“I’m gonna stay back and finish this beer,” Tom said, holding up the large pint of beer he was already a quarter of the way through, “(Y/N), wanna race to see who can finish first?” He suggested trying to get you to stay behind.

“Oh you’re totally on,” You smirked, “but I am going to take a quick peek at the band. We can race after I get back.” You got up from your seat and began walking away with Harry and the boys. Tom pouted at how horribly that plan worked. Harry looked back at Tom apologetically as he held the door open for you.

“Wow,” Avery smiled beside Tom, scaring him, “she really is something.” 

“Holy shit, Mate,” Tom held a hand to his heart, “you almost gave me a heart attack. I thought you went with them?” 

“Nah,” Avery shook his head, “I’m not really into music,” he shrugged. 

“Oh, okay,” Tom nodded. “What were you just saying?”

“(Y/N),” Avery looked towards the back patio exit dreamily, “she’s amazing. I mean I would definitely ask her out, but probably not at a pub surrounded by her mates, y’know?” 

“Mhm, yeah,” Tom said quietly, his heart already beginning to shatter into millions of inconsolable pieces. “I mean, she’s alright.” He said with a forced laugh, trying to fend Avery away from you, “she definitely isn’t really your type, though.” 

“What do you mean?” Avery asked, taking a sip from his beer, “she’s perfect, mate.”

“I mean,” Tom racked his brain for an excuse big enough to make Avery not want you, “you don’t think it’s a little weird she’s in a friend group with all boys?” 

“No,” Avery said slowly, skeptically looking back at the exit, “she just clicks with boys, I guess. Girls and guys can just be friends.”

“Not her,” Tom scoffed, “I mean, it’s just a little obvious, y’know?”

You and the rest of the boys were heading back in, seeing as the back patio was completely overcrowded with patrons. 

“What’s obvious?” Avery asked, raising his voice slightly due to the volume in the bar. 

“(Y/N)’s only friends are guys!” Tom nearly yelled over the volume of chatter, not realizing that the surrounding customers could hear him, “makes me wonder how many she’s slept with! I mean, that’s not a coincidence to me!” 

The surrounding customers halted their conversations, leaving only Tom’s voice filtering through the air and into your ears. 

“That’s crazy,” Avery chuckled awkwardly, “I don’t think she’s like that.” He shook his head, annoying Tom. In a final last-ditch effort to get Avery off your back, he said the worst thing he could, loudly, into a quieting pub. 

“Well, she hits on me all the time,” Tom shrugged, “she’s just a bit whorish, I guess.” 

“Tom,” Tuwaine cleared his throat, interrupting their conversation, “what the fuck, mate?” 

Tom looked at all the boys next to Tuwaine, and behind them was you, teary-eyed with harsh sobs racking through your body. 

You whispered something to Harry, and then all but ran out the front door. Harry walked over to where Tom was sitting and picked up your purse.

“Harry I—” Tom tried.

“Shut the fuck up, Tom.” Harry snapped, “You're an idiot and an asshole, just leave things be.” 

Harry ran out the pub entrance, following you to give you a ride home. 

Tuwaine, Sam, and Harrison shook their heads once the shock ebbed away. One by one they all left Tom sitting in shock and agony at the bar. Avery, not knowing any of the group, barely knew what was going on or if Tom’s accusations were correct, left the pub and went home without another word. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Harry,” Tom whined into the phone, “please tell me how to fix this, please I’m begging you.” 

Harry sighed, now properly regretting lifting his silent treatment from Tom, “Tom, there is absolutely nothing I can do to help you, and even if there was, I wouldn’t. You called her a whore in front of a crowded pub—”

“I know!” Tom yelled, “And I’ve been living with that guilt for three weeks now! Please, Harry. I-I messed up so bad.” Tom’s voice cracked, “I tried calling and texting, a-and my texts started turning green. She blocked me,” Tom sobbed, “I’m in love with her, and I never got to tell her. I ruined our relationship before it even began.” 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “you did.” 

“Harry, I just want to apologize properly, please.” Tom begged, “I tried going to her house, but her roommate threw a drink at me and told me she went out of town. Where is she?”

“I can’t tell you.” 

“Harry,” Tom sighed, “I’m trying so hard here, I don’t care where she is, I’ll go anywhere for her. Please, I just can’t keep waiting in the dark for her to talk to me.”

Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead, “Okay, fine, but don’t tell her I told you where she was. And if you get your face clawed off, just know that you deserve it.” 

“Okay, okay, now tell me.”

“She’s been staying with Tuwaine and his girlfriend.” 

“Okay, thanks, love you, bye!” Tom said through the phone, already grabbing his keys. 

Harry sighed and began texting Tuwaine, 

Harry: Tom’s coming over, don’t snap him in half, he just wants to talk to her. 

Tuwaine: I’m not home right now, but I'd be more worried about her snapping him in half… 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Tom pulled up the Tuwaine’s flat and pounded at the door. He didn’t see Tuwaine’s car in the driveway but he saw yours parked on the street so he knew you were in there. 

“(Y/N)!” He desperately called, “Come on, I know you’re in there!”, his pleas were met with silence and he rang the doorbell on repeat, “(Y/N), please! I just want to talk!”

The door opened to show you standing there with your messy hair and stained sweats, still looking overwhelmingly perfect in Tom’s eyes. He noticed the dark circles and the dried tears and his heart broke, even more, knowing he caused this. He loved you so much and he caused you some of the worst pain imaginable. All he wanted to do was hold you and kiss your puffy cheeks, desperately whispering praises into your ear. You were perfect in every sense of the word, and he let you believe you were anything less. He was an idiot—the biggest idiot in the world—for making you cry. 

“What do you want?” You snapped with a sniffle, pulling him back to reality as you rubbed your red eyes. 

“I just want to talk,” Tom gave you a small smile, “please.” 

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” You scowled, “You need to leave.” 

“No, (Y/N), please.” Tom begged, “I’m sorry. I’m so so so fucking sorry. I was being an idiot and—please, (Y/N), you’re my best friend. I don’t wanna lose you.” Tom’s voice cracked, but you remained stoic in the doorway. 

“I’m your best friend? Really?” You scoffed, “I thought I was just some whore you let hang around you?” 

Tom winced at his words being thrown back into his face, “I didn’t mean it, I swear,” he promised, tears glistening in his eyes, “I don’t even know why I said that. I was being so fucking stupid—” 

“No,” You interrupted his rambling, “you don’t get to say that. You don’t get to say that it was just you “being stupid”. Who the hell says that about their supposed best friend? Why would you even think that? You don’t just get to call me those things in public, and then say that you don’t know why you did it. You can’t even give me a reason—”

“I’m in love with you,” Tom blurted out, blowing out a puff of air in stress, “I’ve been in love with you for the longest time, (Y/N). And Avery was saying how he wanted to ask you out, and I couldn’t lose you. I didn’t want to lose you. I had so many plans for us, and I wanted to be with you—to be yours—more than anything, and I let my jealousy get in the way. I’m sorry because if I deserved you I wouldn’t have done that.”

You stood in the doorway of the flat, arms crossed over your chest. “I can’t believe you’d be so reckless.” You said after a moment of silence, “I would’ve been yours if you had just asked me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Tom cried, reaching out to hold your hand, but you backed away ever so slightly, “please, I would do anything to fix it if I could.” 

“You don’t understand anything, Tom.” You frowned.

“Help me understand.” He begged.

You pondered it for a moment and then released a sigh, coupled with a few tears, “I loved you,” you admitted. Tom’s heart did a leap, but then he realized that you were talking past tense as if his chance with you was gone.

“And I would spend months and months just waiting for you to come home so I could spend time with you. I was so lonely when you and Harry left; I always am. Avery offered to spend some time with me after class one day and I agreed because I don’t have anybody else when you leave. And it was fun, but he wasn’t you. He’ll never compare to the place you had in my heart, but at least I wasn’t alone anymore.” You sighed and began closing the door again, “Now, because of you, I have no one again.” 

The door was about to slam back in Tom’s face, but he shoved his foot in the threshold, “(Y/N), wait,” he pleaded, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how important Avery was to you. I can never undo what I did, but please let me make it up to you. I just need you to understand how sorry I am.” 

You opened the door again and looked at Tom’s sad eyes, boring into you, “I do understand how sorry you are, but I don’t know how I can trust you again. You said awful things about me without even batting an eye or taking a breath—”

“I know,” Tom sighed, “I know and I’d give anything to take it back. I just want you back (Y/N). Even if you don’t want to be my girlfriend, I can’t leave knowing I’ve lost my best friend.” 

“As much as it hurts,” You caved, moving from the doorway to let Tom in, “I still love you, and I don’t want to lose you either.” 

Tom smiled and walked into the flat, immediately pulling you into a hug, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” You hugged back and sniffled into his hoodie, before pulling away with a sigh.

“I know,” You nodded, “I forgive you. But next time, just be honest with me and tell me how you’re feeling. I’d give you the world if you asked for it.”

Tom smiled and stroked your tear-stained cheek, “I’ll just settle on your heart for now, if that’s okay?”

“That’s so fucking cheesy.” You giggled, wiping the tears from your eyes, “I love it.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

✧tags & moots✧ @ptersmj @princessofguineapigs @peterbenjiparker @cherrytholland @itsapeterthing @justapurrcat @thirstiestpotato @kelieah @iovebug  @waitimcomingtoo  @rosyparkers  @parkers-gal @allegra-writes @starktonyx  @celestialholland  @hollandcrush  @londonspidey @blissfulparker @spidernerdsblog @spidey-sophie @spideyspeaches @peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology @andilovetowrite @sinisterspidey @asonofpeter @westcoastcigar @arlo-sanders @love-peterparker @boiolay @letssee2468  @white-wolf1940 @fandom-life-12 @hollandsdream @annathesillyfriend @lovelybarnes @miseryholland @wierdteenagenerd @duskholland @hollandprkr @lauras-collection @arvinsescape @hollandsrecs

[landosgirl97]

Crying in Miami- Chase Stokes

A/N: Based on the song above, thanks to @pankowforlife for finding it for me! I really am proud of this one so I hope you guys enjoy it!

I was getting ready to go out with my friends for the first time in months, scrolling through photos from Chase and I on previous nights we had gone out in Miami. “Dude, stop killing yourself! He’s not going to come back! It was ONE week.” My friend said, fighting to take my phone out of my hand. “It was the best week of my life Mel, I swear that was the most fun I’d had in years.” She shook her head, “he is already back in LA, you know this. Back with his ex and moving on. You should too.” She places a comforting hand on my shoulder as I out my phone in my purse, heading out.

—-----

“Chase stop!” I laughed as he tickled my sides, taking me down to the bed with him. “I can’t! It’s too much fun to mess with you!” I hop off the bed and grab his phone to take a picture as he stands on the bed, flipping me off with both hands and a huge smile on his face. “Alright let’s go! I want to go before all the VIP tables are taken”, his friends said. I roll my eyes, grabbing his hand and following behind him. It was a beautiful spring evening so he wrapped his arms around me as we waited for our Uber to pick us up.

We made it back to the hotel, stumbling as usual given the bottle service we had taken advantage of. Chase and I crawled into bed, stripping out of our clothes and making out softly as we felt each other up. He intertwined our hands and buried his face in my neck, kissing it softly. “I never want to live without you..” I mumbled, hoping he hadn’t heard. He obviously did though, because his head popped up soon after. “Wait, really?” I nod, “Seriously. I’ll go wherever you go.” He kissed me passionately and pulled away, “you’ll never have to.”

—---

I was pulled out of my daydream by my phone going off. 

@hichasestokes posted a photo

I slowly opened the notification and saw that he posted a selfie, hair wet, his signature pouty lips and the lights casting shadows on his beautiful face. The sun was just starting to set in LA, bringing out the orange and gold flecks in his gorgeous eyes as he looked at the camera. I sigh as I close my phone, wishing as every second goes by that I could see those beautiful eyes in person. Knowing that he was almost 3,000 miles away made my eyes fill with tears. I fought them off as we pulled up to the club and straightened my dress, waiting for my friends to get out as well. I immediately went to the bar, ordering the strongest drink I could think of and opening a tab. My only goal was to get drunk and hopefully get him off my mind. 

—--

I woke up to a letter on the nightstand that next morning. “Dear Y/N, I’m sorry I left on short notice. I’ll be back soon and we will take that drive to see the sunrise on the coast that you wanted. I can’t wait to come back and see you. This is so hard, but I couldn’t wake you. You looked so beautiful and peaceful. Goodbye, see you soon. Sincerely, Chase.”

—---

After a few drinks, I stuck my hand in my clutch, hand touching the piece of signature paper from his moleskin journal and his beautiful handwriting scrawled across it, and pulled it out. I looked at it for a few minutes before I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Hi, would you like to dance?” A blonde man asked me. He was cute, no comparison to Chase, but cute, so I said yes and followed him to the dancefloor. I had fun for a while, moving around the dancefloor, having fun before he tried to pull me closer to him. I let him for a second until I realized they weren’t the hands I wanted. I realized that these hands were cold and clammy and soft, whereas the ones I want are warm, calloused and rough. I wanted Chase and nobody else. I excused myself, stepping outside to get some air. I pulled the letter back out of my bag, holding it in my hands and rereading it over and over as I finally let the tears spill over. “Please come back.. Please” I whimper, holding the letter close as I cried harder. 

“Y/N?” I heard from behind me, thinking it was the man I had been dancing with, I replied, “I just need a few minutes alone, please go back inside!” I felt someone sit next to me, he grabbed my arm softly and I immediately knew it was the man from inside. “Please, leave me be. I really don’t want to be with you right now!” When he didn’t leave, I begged again, “Please, LEAVE!” As he reached out for me again, I felt him be yanked back. “She said no dude, go back inside.” I’d know that voice anywhere. It was the voice that was attached to the man in my memories that broke my heart. “Fine man, geez.” The guy got up to leave and went inside without a look back in my direction. I looked down at my feet, trying to force my tears to dry themselves. 

He reached for the letter in my hand and grabbed it from me, sighing. “I’m so sorry…” he said. I sniffled and looked at him. “You didn’t answer my calls, or texts, you just didn’t seem to care that you broke me, so why are you here?” “Because I do care. I feel horrible for the way I treated you and I was miserable too so I came back. I had to make it right and see you.” I scoff, “It’ll take a lot more than this. I hope you know that.” He nods, “I do, and I’m willing to do what it takes. I miss you Y/N and I promised to take you with me and I will from now on. No more letters or leaving in the middle of the night.” I just nod and wipe the mascara off my face. Chase smiles at me. “Now let’s get your drunk ass some McDonald’s and go watch the sunrise?” I smile at him and nod. “Yes please.”

Tag List: @pankowforlife @wannabestarkeysgirl @my-baexht-ls @bethoconnor @samxslaughter @tishanas-darlings @jjmaybank63 @outerbankspov @slutforsmutsstuff @hoebx @adventuresinobx

[chanandlersstuff]

The library building.

Pairing: Mick Shumacher x Reader.

Summary: Tourist day didn't go as she planned.

Word count: 2.993

Author’s note: Feel totally free to give me ideas for a part two. Hope you like it.

The weather wasn’t bad but it wasn’t very hot for summer. People were walking in the streets getting out of work or coming to work or in your case none of them, she was just exploring. The center of the city was always like that, full of people. She was trying her best to not bump into anyone. Her bag was secure in her back and her headphones blasting the last song she added to her playlist. With quick steps she walked towards the big old building, the security in the door nodded his head and she smiled.

So there she was walking around the big, five floors, library looking for nothing in particular. Truth be told she always had a particular liking for old buildings and this one was a library so it added a special thing that made her like it a little more. She accepted an exchange scholarship the moment that was presented to her, packed her bags, said goodbye to her parents and friends and flew across the ocean to live her life.

As the day wasn’t the best she decided to spend the day being a tourist and the first destination was that library that she saw every time she was going to the university but never had time to go in. She took her time going from floor to floor. The first one was dedicated to music and movies, the other four were all for books. All kinds of books. From for children with drawings of animals to ancient history and some in your native language.

Her camera roll was full of book covers that she wanted to buy. She didn’t know how hours she spent inside there but it didn’t matter because she was happy. Yes, she loves to party as any other person but having her own time, doing something that she loved was something from another world. She was sitting on the floor of one of the floors with her head in her hand and brain so deep in the book she was reading that she didn’t see the person who was walking towards her with their eyes fixed in the books that didn’t acknowledge her either until it was too late for both of them.

Someone had stumbled with her nearly falling to the floor and she almost had a heart attack. -Pero la- She said in her native language with her hand on her chest. Her eyes moved to the person who was looking at the floor confused. -Disculpame, no era mi intención. Estas bien?- She was standing in front of the person.

It was a boy, 5.77 ft, eyes blue like the ocean, blond golden hair well cut, clean baby face and thick neck. He was looking at you with his head tilted to the side. She repeated her question and he frowned. -Sorry, are you okay?- Now he understood.

-Yes, you?- She nodded. -I’m sorry for stumbling with you. I didn't see you.

-It’s okay. I probably wasn’t supposed to be sitting on the floor.- She turned around and gathered her things. The boy hot on her heels helped her pick up her things.

-Here.- He handed her one of the books that were on the floor.

She took it. -Gracias, bye.- She smiled a little and turned around to walk away.

He looked confused and with three big steps was beside her. -Hey, I can show you around.

-What?- She stopped to look at him.

He smiled. -The books are tourist guides, they kinda rat you out plus the fact that you keep switching languages in the five minutes I met you.- She looked at him in silence. -So...I can be your tourist guide. I've lived here for a couple of years.

-Thank you, but not thank you.-She smiled apologetically. And he frowned, earning a deep breath from her. -Have you seen “Taken”?

-What?- He said without understanding a single thing.

-You know the Liam Neeson movie, where his daughter is kidnapped and he murders everyone to rescue her?- She said gesticulating with her hand.

-Yes…..

-Well, my dad is a very good dad, to not to say the best, but I don’t think he is able to do what Neeson did in that movie.- He tilted his head to the side. A very cute thing to do. -You don’t look like a creepy guy that kidnaps girls but you never know, no offense.- She smiled apologetically, again.

He smiled. -Nobody told you that you are a little over dramatic?- He did a little mesure with his long fingers.

She smiled. -Yes, but it came with the package.- She pointed to herself and he laughed tilting his head to the back. She watched how his Adam's apple moved in his throat and how his pearly white teeth were in full display.

-Thank you for the “you don’t look like a creepy guy” part.- He said leaning in a column near them and she bowed her head. -That’s a first time.

-Yeah, the good looks kinda prevent you from being taken as a creepy guy I guess.-They laughed.

-Here you are telling me I have good looks and I don’t know your name.- He said with a cheeky smile.

-That usually works?

-I don’t know. You tell me.

-No, god. It’s awful.- She laughed, shaking her head.

-Yeah, after I said it I realized that it was horrible.- He laughed too. -I’m Mick, by the way.- She told him his name and they shook hands with smiles on their faces. -Can I invite you a coffee?- She opened her eyes big and was about to say something but he interrupted her. -The library on the first floor at the end has a coffee shop, I swear I’m not trying to kidnap you.

She giggled. -I was going to say yes, but thanks for clarifying that you don’t have any intentions of kidnapping me.- He chuckled. -So, lead the way Mick.

He smiled and they walked side by side through the floors to the Coffee Shop on the first floor. They went to a table for two with little sofas and a little light lamp on it. The cafeteria had dim lights, soft music in the background and the cofe selm hit their nostrils the second they put their feet inside. After ordering and Mick being caught looking at her for far too long making her blush and her smiling at him. The coffees and food arrived.

-So, you are not from here.- She shook her head opening a sugar packet. -Where are you from?

She mixed her coffee, took a sip and shook her head a little. -Take a guess.- He watched how she opened another sugar packet and poured it on the coffee.

-A Spanish-speaking country, I assume.- She nodded while taking another sip and shook her head again. -Spain?

-Not because I speak spanish it means I’m from spain. They talk more with the “Z” I don’t, I talk more with the “SH”- She poured another sugar packet.

-I’m sorry but you want to get diabetes?- He said looking at her and then to her coffee.

-It's too black. Life is already black itself, so a little sugar doesn't hurt anyone.- She shrugged and took another sip. -Perfect.- She whispered and smiled. -Going back to the topic, take another guess. Second chance. Hope you were good at geography in school.

-Oh god.- Mick wishepred and she laughed.

-Oh come on, it can’t be that bad.- She said before taking a bite of what was on her plate.

He laughed. -Let me think for a second. She nodded with a smile. -I'm going to visit Mexico, so I'll say Mexico.

She squinted her eyes and moved her head. -Almost?

-Why do you sound unsure?- They laughed.

She opened her mouth to talk and then closed quickly, licked her lips and laughed a little more. -You are in the right direction but more to the south.

Mick nodded and bit his lip thinking. -I really don’t know a lot of countries on that side of the world. Another hint.

-Let me think.- She looked around, missing how Mick was looking at her. The curve of her nose, her lips, the hairs that were falling in her face, her ears and the multiple earrings there. -I have two on my mind but they will sell it away the second they leave my lips so I will go for another. We party a lot and every time.

Mick nodded. -This is the other I will be visiting so I hope at least it is close so, Brazil.- He said, sounding unsure.

She nodded. -It’s really close, actually in a way we are side by side but they don't speak spanish, they speak portuguese. I’m from Argentina.

-Ohhh.- He said, making her laugh.

-You don't know where that is, doesn't you?- She asked and he shook his head and mumbled a little sorry. -It’s okay. Since I arrived I realised that not a lot of people know about geography.- They laughed.

-So, what is the girl from Argentina doing on the other side of the world?- He took a sip of his coffee.

She told him about her scholarship in the university. She told him that she hadn't had much time to explore during her school term due to the exams and things like that so she took the summer break to explore around and be a proper tourist. But that she had failed astronomically because she hadn’t a clue where to visit or what to do. Her friends and her family.

-Sorry I got carried away and talked nonstop. My mum would say, `hablas hasta por los codos hija, respira` and she would be right.- Mick listened to the foreing language roll out her tongue and tried to understand with her little know in Spanish what she was saying but he failed. -What about you?

-What about me?- Mick frowned.

-How are you Mick, the guy I met in a library?- She said, looking him in the eyes. Her eyes pierced his blue oceanic eyes.

-I’m just a guy.- He said simply.

-Mick, just a guy?- He nodded. -I don’t buy it. Everyone has a story, even if it's a simple one for you. It’s who you are.

He looked around nervously. -I’m from Germany, I have an older sister and I’m 22.

-So, the guy from Germany has a job or is studying something?- She asked politely and he moved in his seat uncomfortably. -You don’t have to answer, it sounds like an interrogation. I’m sorry. We can change topics if you want.

Mick shook his head and gave her a fake laugh. -It’s okay. I work testing cars.- He said unsure and she tilted her head. -I work for a car company and when they are about to launch a new car they give it to us, the guys that make the tests, to drive them around for a period of time and then give back to them and tell them what we think about it, if it have things to improve or to change and things like that.

-Oh that sounds so interesting.- She said enthusiastically and he nodded. -So I assume you like cars.

-Yes, you assume well.- Why did he lie? He didn’t know. But it was too late to turn back the lie.

They continue talking about random things. Mick continued feeding his lie and she kept buying it. He told her some truths here and there, like the fact he has a dog named Angie, what her sister does for living and that he didn’t spend much time in his home thanks to his job but when he is in his home he likes to spend his time with his family. The coffees were long gone and less people were in the coffee shop.

-Wait here. I will be right back.- Mick said getting up from her seat and leaving her alone before she had the chance to ask him where he was going.

She looked at her phone checking the hour, when fifteen minutes passed and he wasn’t coming she decided that it was enough. -Bien ahi idiota, puede ser que no te haya secuestrado pero claremente te vio la cara de idiota. Nunca confies en una cara bonita, siempre te lo dijo tu hermana y nunca le hiciste caso. Ahi tenes por tonta te pasa. Va a ser una buena y graciosa anécdota para navidad, eso tenelo por seguro. (Well there you go idiot, it may be that he didn’t kidnap you but he clearly saw your face. Never trust a pretty face, your sister always told you and you never paid attention to her. There you go, it happens to you for silly. It will be a good and funny anecdote for Christmas, that is for sure.)- She said under her breath taking her things after paying the bill.

-Hey, where are you going?- That voice said behind her and she stopped. -You have to go?

When she turned around Mick was there with his blonde eyebrows frowned. -You didn't go away?- She said surprised.

-Why would I go away?- He said, confused.

-I thought you left me here to pay the bill and ran away. That you played the fool on me.

-Why would I do that?- She shrugged.

-Don’t know. I don’t have the answer to everything.- She said in a funny way.

-Doesn’t matter. I went for this.- He showed her a book and she raised a brow. -A tourist book, the best in this library. I was late because they couldn't find it.

-Okay…- He gestured to her to sit again, she did it and so did he.

-You don't want me to be your tour guide and I completely understand why so I thought that maybe I could recommend some places to you.- He smiled sweetly to her.

-Oh. Thank you, that's kind of you Mick. You didn't have to.- She looked at the book.

-Nonsense, you have a pen?- He opened it and started to look at the index of the book.

-For what?- She didn’t understand.

-To write the places down.- He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

-But you can't write in the book, I think I had a notebook here in some place.- She started to look through her back.

He stretched his hand and placed it in her arm. -Hey relax sunshine, I bought the book for you so we can write on it.- She looked at him surprised. -Unless you are one of those people who are against that.- He said nervously.

She giggled. -Nono, I don't have a problem with that. It took me by surprise, that’s it.- He was about to ask why but she interrupted him. -I found it, here.- She placed the pen in the book and smiled.

He smiled too and started to write things down. Place he recommended and what to do in the ones that were already there. She asked him about some places and he told her what he knew about it. What public transport she could take to get there and what places deserved to be visited and what others did not. What kind of things she could find out around some places and things like that. His handwriting was perfect, legible and neat. He even told her some stories about when he went to some of the places, making her laugh.

When they finished the book and no more things were about to be added she looked at her phone and their day was almost passed completely. There were no more people in the coffee shop besides them and the staff from there. Even one of them went up to them to tell them that the library was about to close in an hour. They looked at eachother surprised.

-We spent the whole day here. I hope you didn't have plans for the day because I think I screwed them up.- She laughed.

-No, not at all. It was supposed to be a lazy day. So relax, sunshine.- He said smiling and she blushed a little at the nickname.

-I guess I should get going. Let you get back to your day, or was left of it.- She said getting up and he did too.

-I will walk with you to the door. But let me pay the bill.- He said getting out his wallet.

-Don’t worry about it. I already paid for it.

-What? Why? Let me give you the money, I was the one who invited you.- He said taking money out of her wallet.

She laughed and put her hand on his. -Relax, I’m a big girl and I can pay the bill. Besides you paid for the book, we are even.- He opened his mouth to protest but she was quicker. -I will not accept anything and you can’t make me change my mind.

He mumbled a little fine under his breath and she smiled triumphant. They walked to the door and she smiled to everyone that they passed and said goodbye to them. They were really the last ones on the building besides the ones that work there. When they were out of the building they stood facing each other with smiles on their faces.

-Well Mick, just a guy in a library, it was a plusher to be stumble by you. Thank you for a great day.- She said smiling.

-Thank you too sunshine, a girl from Argentina on the other side of the world. And the pleasure was all mine, glad to prove that I wasn’t a kidnapper nor a creepy guy.- He said smiling too and they laughed.

He kissed her cheek and parted ways. Maybe they will meet again or maybe they will never see the other face again. Destiny is a very funny thing and the world is round.