#sorry it’s not coloured or anything I’ve been exhausted trying to get art out. it’s been a rough few months and genshin has burnt out on me

[transdilucs]

They are the funkiest qpr to me

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨1

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) nothing as yet.

This is dark!mob!Clark Kent x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Yay, mob Clark. And I know what you’re saying right now, enough with Clark Kent! I get it haha. Promise, for a while, this will be the last I do of him. I have Lee fic in the work right now, the early development of medieval Peter, and I’m still sitting on some Loki ft. an exchange student... and then all my other series of course!

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You stood against the wall, chewing your lip as you looked around the gallery. You should be ecstatic, you should be floating around on a cloud, but all you could feel was crushing anxiety. It was truly a dream come true; your art hanging on the wall. Only three pieces, but it was there, and your name was below it in print.

You tugged on the waist of your dress and teetered in your heels. It was a borrowed outfit, you couldn’t afford anything appropriate to the upscale venue. The classic starving artist, or almost. You slipped your phone from your purse and up your sleeve. You subtly checked the time and for the little chat icon in the corner. Still no message.

Marcus was almost an hour late. He texted just after the event opened to warn you he was caught up with work but you worried he wouldn’t show up at all. It wasn’t his fault his boss was a jackass but you weren’t prepared to face this alone. You dropped your phone back into your slender purse and snapped it shut.

Vanessa, the gallery owner, made you flinch as she appeared almost out of the air. You smiled at her shyly and stopped chewing your lip.

“You should mingle,” she said, “you have an interested buyer. You might have a few more if you come out from the corner.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so nervous,” you confessed, “I-- thank you so much for this opportunity.”

“You earned it,” she touched your arm daintily, “all those hard hours working the back room, I couldn’t not hang a few pieces.”

You fixed your posture and tried to seem as confident as her. Your income came solely from hours of at-home data entry as you volunteered at the gallery in your few hours between. It was all worth it and maybe if you sold something tonight, Vanessa would feature you work again and you wouldn’t need to spend the bulk of your days staring at tiny font.

“So, where’s this buyer?” you asked hopefully.

“That’s my girl,” Vanessa trilled, “he seems very interested.”

She led you across the room, stopping to greet other artists and old friends with a kiss on the cheek and deep laughter. You’d met them all before as you were often working at these events. It was your first time as one of them.

When at last you neared your little stretch of the wall, a man stood with his head slightly back as he stared at your proto-renaissance portraits. He was tall and his broad shoulders strained the rich fabric of his jacket. His dark hair was neatly parted and a slight curl marked the front above the shadow of scruff poking out along his jawline.

“Mr. Kent,” Vanessa chimed, “I found her.”

He turned to look at you and his deep blue eyes struck you. He smiled between you and the gallery owner, his chiseled jaw even more defined by the gesture.

“This is Mr. Kent,” she introduced you in turn, “I believe he was interested in the larger piece.”

“All three, if you don’t have another buyer lined up,” he intoned, “I think they belong together.”

“All of them?” you raised your brows, “well, I, yeah, I guess--”

“We can put something together for you,” Vanessa interrupted your awkward stuttering, “let me just mark them.”

She took the silver pen she kept on a chain around her wrist and scribbled in the corner of the tags to mark them as sold. You were slightly numb at your disbelief. You were a bit reluctant to part with your work but the check would ease your grief.

“The way you use colours,” he said as he faced the paintings again, “I’ve recently had some work done in my house and I hate the sight of naked walls.”

“Thank you,” you said as you stepped a little closer and looked at your delicate strokes.

“Pardon me,” Vanessa rushed away as she beckoned to one of her assistants and prattled orders.

“Vanessa tells me you’re a new artist,” he said.

“New in a sense,” you said, “I guess, I’m officially an artist now.”

“Oh? I’m flattered. Your first buyer?”

“Besides some online fanart, yeah,” you replied, “so, Mr. Kent, what do you do?”

“Clark,” he corrected, “and a little bit of everything.”

An awkward silence took over and was thankfully interrupted by your name. You turned as Marcus rushed over and his shoes slipped on the polished floor. He reached you and kissed your cheek as he caught his breath.

“I’m so sorry, I got caught in traffic on the way over and then my oil light started flashing,” he gasped out.

“Hey, you’re here,” you rubbed his shoulder and straightened his tie without thinking as it hung at an angle.

“So, you sell anything yet?” he asked.

“Yes, actually, um, Mr-- Clark,” you gestured to the man standing patiently to the side, “he just bought all three.”

“Damn,” Marcus said, “guess I can hold onto my savings.”

“Marc,” you nudged his arm with your knuckles, “you know we can’t afford your cheesiness.”

“Sorry, uh,” Marcus laughed at himself, “I’m Marcus.”

He held out his hand and Clark shook it. His eyes strayed to you as his features sharpened just a little.

“You two…?” he ventured.

“Five years,” Marcus announced, “guess we’re going steady.”

“Oh,” Clark nodded placidly, “are you an artist too?”

“God no, I can hardly write my own name legibly,” Marcus kidded, “I’m a developer.”

“Computers,” Clark mused.

“Yeah, computers,” Marcus scoffed, “and you?”

“Own a couple businesses,” Clark shrugged.

“Must be successful if you can hang around here,” Marcus said and you elbowed him in embarrassment.

“I guess,” Clark smoothed his dark purple jacket and checked his watch, “I’ll let you two be. Maybe I’ll find something to go with these fine pieces.”

“Thank you,” you said sweetly, “I’m happy to see my work go to a good home.”

“I hope to see more in future,” he returned kindly.

He turned and carried on to the statue constructed of can tabs and greeted another suited man. You looked at Marcus as he leaned in to read the tags beneath your paintings. He stood and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Holy shit, ten grand?” he hissed.

“Pretty good pay for one night,” you chirped, “glad you could make it.”

“Sorry again, I… I had to redo some code. Adam was in a mood so,” he shook his head and sighed, “let’s not talk about it. Let’s celebrate.” He peeked over at the server with a tray of stemmed flutes, “and you can decide what you’re going to buy me with that check.”

“Hush,” you chided as you took a glass of champagne, “now is not the time to go over bills.”

🎨

At the end of the night, you watched one of the assistants take down your canvas and you helped wrap them in paper and twine. As you finished a loopy knot, you were surprised by the figure beside you. You looked up and set the smallest piece atop the larger ones. Clark smiled as you moved to let him pick them up.

“All yours,” you said, almost mournful to see them go.

“Thanks,” he said as he tucked them easily under his thick arm, “I forgot earlier but do you have a card? Are you open for commissions?”

“You must have a lot of walls,” you looked down and opened your purse, “I have a card and I could try a commission.”

You slid out one of the cards that had lingered in your wallet for more than a year. You handed it to him and he read the flowery font before tucking it away in his jacket.

“I do… have a lot of walls,” he said with a smirk, “I’ll give you a call once these are hung.”

“O-okay,” you kept from wringing your hands and closed your purse, “thank you… again.”

“My pleasure,” assured, “have a good night.”

“Yeah, good night,” you said and watched him go.

You let out a breath and smiled to yourself. You would talk to Vanessa and get your cut of the check before you went. Then you could worry about getting Marcus home. He’d had a little too much champagne and you’d left him in the backroom so you could help with the clean-up.

Vanessa bid goodbye to one of her featured artists as you neared. She turned to you and threw up her hands in delight.

“Wonderful, darling,” she said, “you earned that wall.”

“Thanks,” you grinned bashfully.

“Really. That man has never bought a piece before,” she smirked, “I’ve been dying to get into his wallet for years.”

“I never saw him before…”

“Oh, well, yes, he has not been to many of these either. I often see him at other galleries,” she explained, “I hope you have some more for the next.”

“Um, yeah, I should be able to--”

“I’ll have the check for you tomorrow,” she patted your shoulder as her eye was caught by another, “go get your boyfriend out of my studio.”

You accepted your dismissal and turned on your heel. That was just Vanessa, steely but slightly flighty as well. Besides, you were exhausted and you would likely be dragging Marcus into a cab.

You found him slumped at the paint-splattered table. You shook him awake and smiled dopily as he opened his eyes.

“Babe,” he pushed his arm around you.

“Marcus,” you drawled in disappointment, “let’s get out of here.”

“Huh?” He looked around and hiccupped, “oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. You had a long day,” you assured him as you rubbed his back and let him lean on you as he stood, “I’m just happy you showed up after all that nonsense.”

“Of course, babe,” he slurred and you helped him through the door.

You kept your head down as you slowly sneaked out past Vanessa but you didn’t miss her side-eye. It was best to be as covert as possible. You came out through the door and nearly dropped Marcus.

“Jesus, can I get a little help?” you snipped as you looked around for a yellow cab.

“Sorry, baby, sorry,” he got his feet flat but it hardly helped take his weight off of you.

You raised your hand to hail a cab and he slipped down your arm. Your ankle bent as you turned to try to catch him before you dropped him entirely. He was saved from hitting the ground as he was caught by another. You looked over his head as he was pushed up to his feet again. 

Clark kept his arm behind Marcus as you stared at him, “oh my god, thank you.”

“No problem,” he said as he steadied your boyfriend, “you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied as you lifted your foot and kept the weight off your ankle, “I just need to get a taxi.” You raised your hand again as you tried to see past the large man, “if you don’t mind getting him in--”

“You can ride with me,” he said brusquely as he turned with Marcus and peered back at you, “this way.”

“We can’t--”

“On that ankle,” he said as you began to limp after him, “you won’t get him out on your own.”

“Really, I’m fine--”

“I don’t mind,” he said coolly as he came to a silver sports car and balanced Marcus against him as he opened the door, “I’ll need an address.”

“Uh, oh,” you folded your hands, “thank you. Really, you’ve done too much.”

“It happens. I’ve had these nights,” he put Marcus across the seat and folded his legs up and shut the door, “you can take the front and tell me where I’m going.”

You hesitated and he opened the front door. You neared and hissed as you stumbled on your ankle. You caught yourself on his arm and quickly retracted your hand as you apologized. 

“It’s alright,” he said as you sat in the front seat. He knelt and gently took your ankle. His thumb rubbed the swollen joint, “you really banged yourself up.”

“I’ll be okay,” you assured him, “thanks.”

He let go and stood. He waited for you to turn your legs into the car and gently closed the door. He rounded to the other side and got in as he fished around for his keys. He turned the engine and gripped the wheel with one hand as he took out his phone. He placed it on the magnetic holder and his fingers flicked over the screen.

“Address?” he asked.

You recited it and winced as Siri responded, ‘calculating route’. You shrunk against the luxury leather and glanced at him. He let out a huff and steered into the mostly empty street.

“I’m sorry about all this--”

“No, don’t be,” he glanced in the rearview, “he must be happy for you.”

“Yeah, uh, I think he is,” you said as he followed the map directions, “I am too. I mean, it will go along way… uh, well, you know, things can be tough or--” you shrugged, “I mean, it’s not about the money.”

“Yeah, but it’s nice to be paid,” he said lightly, “and I don’t mind paying for good art.”

You looked out the window as your cheeks burned. You could smell his cologne, subtle but strong. You played with your purse as your nerves brewed in your chest. You watched the sidewalks and the street lights as your surroundings grew more familiar.

He pulled up to your building. It wasn’t the greatest area and the brick façade was faded and cracked. Before you could get out, he was at your door. He offered his hand and helped you out as you leaned on the car. He let you go and opened the back and lifted Marcus out. He hooked your boyfriend’s arm over his shoulder and offered his other arm.

“Come on,” he said.

“Look, you don’t-- there’s an elevator.”

“I’d feel better if I got you inside,” he insisted, “especially in this area.”

You relented and took his arm and limped beside him up the steps. You took out your keys and went ahead of him as he dragged Marcus in. You went to the elevator and hit the button. The doors glided open and you stepped inside. He stood close in the small metal box and Marcus murmured dumbly at his side.

The doors dinged and he let you out first. He followed you down the hall and you unlocked your apartment and waved him inside. He carried Marcus to the couch at your direction and you leaned against the armchair as you bent your leg to check your ankle.

“You should put some ice on that,” Clark said as he neared, “get some sleep yourself.”

“Yeah, I will,” you assured, “thank you, again.”

You felt embarrassed as you eyed his expensive suit and looked around your tiny apartment. It must have been laughable to him. He hardly seem bothered as he retreated to the door.

“I’ll let you then,” he said, “and thank you. I really do like your work.”

The door shut in his stead and you heard his footsteps down the long hall until the door at the end swung open. You glanced at Marcus and shook your head. You weren’t as happy to have had him at the show then.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

Life Without Colour (PART FIVE)

Soulmate AU: Your vision is in black and white until you meet your soulmate. You and your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, aren’t each others soulmates but you love each other. He introduces you to his friends, the Avengers, and a very odd thing happens.

Characters: Steve Rogers x Plus Size Female Reader, Bucky Barnes x Plus Size Female Reader

Note: ignore that i don’t even question bucky being able to get through security at the airport, i couldn’t think of how he would be able to get through the airport security bc of his metal arm so i’ve skipped that detail completely. i hope it doesn’t detract from the story! 

this is nearly 6000 words!

Taglist:  @domainoflostsouls​  forgetthisbull  handon-h-art  yourspecialcrush  giulsgotmusic  mrsbarnes-rogers  luosymekawa  linzeyzarcone  forgetthisbull   calamityreads  talgra   marina-darling  btsforlif  lamoursansfin  classic1985  lovesicksofi  fandomsfallnomore  thebivirgin  classygladiatorcupcake

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

PART FOUR

PART FIVE

PART SIX

Seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours. You had long since stopped trying to figure out what state you were in and where you were headed. Bucky had been driving non-stop aside from two bathroom breaks at a small gas station in the middle of nowhere. You had stopped crying a long time ago, too drained and too tired to continue. You felt horrendous. You hated this, you absolutely hated this but you had no choice in the matter. The car had been silent for the whole way aside from the quiet chatter on the radio. Bucky hadn’t wanted to speak in fear of upsetting you further. He had been driving you out of state to go to an airport that would be a little harder to find. It had been Fury’s idea, to go to an airport that Hydra wouldn’t look for straight away. It gave you a little more time to get away without being watched.

You took a break from watching the blur of trees and roads to glance at the clock on the dashboard; 13:42. You hadn’t eaten yet, barely had anything to drink either and you knew that you weren’t far away from a dehydration migraine. As if on cue, your stomach rumbled loudly. Bucky, without speaking, reached behind his car seat and produced a rucksack and dumped it on your lap with a, “Here. There’s water and some snacks in there. We’ll get a proper meal when we’re at the airport.”

You dug through the bag, producing two bottles of water. You opened one and offered it to Bucky, he accepted with a nod, draining half before handing it back to you. You offered him a muffin but he shook his head. You dropped the bag to between your feet and began to have your water and muffin. It helped curb the hunger, at least for a while, and you felt a lot better once you had something in your stomach. After a while, you sank back into your seat with a yawn.

Bucky glanced over at you, “We’ve still got a few hours to drive, you can sleep if you want.” You looked at him and he gave you a small smile, “It’s okay. I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”

You thanked him quietly before closing your eyes. It didn’t take long before you fell asleep and your soft snores filled the car. Bucky looked at you for a couple of seconds, smiling to himself. Man, it’s gonna be a long few weeks.

It only felt like you’d closed your eyes for a few minutes when Bucky was saying your name, gently shaking your shoulder. Groggily, you opened your eyes to meet his blue eyes and it almost gave you a fright seeing them. Sometimes it still surprised you to see colour and especially when Bucky was around... colour seemed to be brighter and those deeper blue eyes seemed so bright in person.

“We’re here,” he said, pulling back quickly, not wanting to upset you by being too close. Bucky was very careful of boundaries, he always had been but especially after the Winter Soldier incidents. He knew what it felt like to not want to be touched or have your personal space invaded so he was always careful to not overstep.

“You’ve got the fake passports and stuff, don’t you?” You asked him, yawning and stretching in your seat.

He nodded and told you that they’re in his bag. In order to help the process of becoming anonymous, Fury had fake IDs and fake passports made for the two of you. They’d even gone so far as to create two new backstories for the pair of you just in case anyone ever questioned the pair of you. You and Bucky got out of the car, your legs ached from having sat in the car for hours upon hours. It was dark outside now, you didn’t know the time. Bucky grabbed the bags out of the car and handed you the two passports to hold. As you walked into the airport, you flicked to it. Miss Jane Smith and Mr John Smith. Two very common and obvious fake names but you hoped that it wouldn’t be picked up.

The check in process was much easier than you anticipated, the passports passed the ID checks and soon, the two of you were through security and heading for the food outlet. Bucky had told you to keep your head down for most of the time and to avoid direct eye contact with cameras. The airport was relatively quiet which was good in the sense you didn’t have to worry about people around you noticing Bucky. Bucky led you to a small café which was quiet and the two of you sat at the back. Everything was kind of passing in a blur and it only seemed like a few seconds until Bucky was back with your food.

You began to eat in silence and it was then you realised where you were going, “Estonia?” You asked quietly, making sure to not be overhead.

Bucky nodded as he took a bite of his burger, “Managed to find a secluded house, already furnished. The owner agreed to let us stay for a discounted price as well.”

“I’ve never been,” you shrugged, taking a bite of your food, “Where are we right now?”

“Pittsburg,” he said, glancing around the café to make sure no one was taking notice of the pair of you, “Steve thought it would be a good idea to leave from an airport a few hours away from New York. Hydra and Rumlow would check New York airports first once they realise you’re out of town.”

You smiled sadly as you looked down to your food. Leave it to Steve to think of everything. Bucky told you that the flight would be leaving in an hour and it would be a long ass flight but it was okay because you were exhausted and you could absolutely sleep for a good portion of the flight anyway.  

You sighed, “When can I take this stupid disguise off? I’m so uncomfortable!”

Bucky studied you carefully, “When we’re in the safe house.”

“Do I look stupid? I feel stupid.”

“You look... different. Not bad just different,” he paused before speaking again, “I prefer you as you are though, without the wig, contacts and flashy clothes. I think you look much better when you’re being yourself.”

You didn’t know how to respond to that with anything other than a nod. It felt foreign and wrong to receive a compliment from him, even though it was a genuine, friendly compliment, it felt wrong. The two of you didn’t say much after that.

After eating, you and Bucky went to get some plane snacks. You grabbed some water and some treats, you also wandered to the book section and picked up a book. As you were walking to the books, you saw a little boy and girl pass wearing matching Captain America t-shirts. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched them pass. It seemed to hit you in that moment that this was real and this was truly happening.

“(y/n)?” Bucky asked appearing behind you.

You turned to him, “Sorry... I just can’t believe this is happening.” 

Bucky nodded before gesturing to the check out, “Let’s get this all checked out and then hopefully we’ll be able to go to our departure gate.” He didn’t really know how to help you without overstepping or potentially upsetting you. He didn’t want you to get upset in public so he thought that he could keep you distracted and that would help ease your worries. It helped, having him there to guide you and distract you from possible sad thoughts helped a lot actually.

You found your airplane seats quick, the two of you were bang smack in the middle and you were both in a two seater section. Bucky let you go in first, saying that he preferred not to look out of the window when taking a flight. You sunk into it, keeping your head down and wrapping your arms around yourself to get warmer. As Bucky sat beside you, tapping his foot and his hand on the armrest impatiently, you looked at him curiously, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, “Just... not a big fan of flying.”

You pulled out the magazines which were in the pocket of the chair in front of you and handed him them, “I find that reading the safety procedures always helps. Also reading the magazine where you can just check out the meal deals and the perfume deals help a bit.”

Bucky took them off of you and began to flick through them. In the meantime, you closed your eyes. As the plane began to move, Bucky tensed beside you and you opened your eyes to look at him, his hands were clenched around the arms of the chair, jaw clenched too.

“Hey, show me that,” you said, sitting up straighter and pointing to the magazine. He looked at you and then handed it to you. Bucky had been helping you out by distracting you from being sad, the least you could do is distract him from being anxious. You leaned over, probably a little closer than you would’ve felt comfortable with in normal circumstances. Bucky stiffened as he smelled your perfume when you came closer. You took no notice of the closeness.

“Look at that!” You said, pointing to the menu that they were offering that night on the flight, “What would you have?” Bucky shrugged and you rolled your eyes, “C’mon. I’d have the chicken curry and the cheese and ham panini and then I would absolutely have the tiramisu afterwards. What about you?” You held it closer to him for him to study.

“Uh... I mean, I suppose the lasagne sounds nice. The breaded mushrooms too, I like those. Never had tiramisu but it sounds nice enough so I’d give that a go too.”

“No way,” you said shaking your head, “I would order the tiramisu and you would order the chocolate and raspberry mousse and we’d share them both.”

Bucky snorted slightly, “Sure thing, whatever you want.”

You flicked through more of the pages, “Ooooh,” you said noticing the deals on the perfumes, “I love airplane and airport deals. I only ever buy my perfume from duty free, honestly. No point in buying it full price anywhere else.”

“I still find it crazy that there’s a shop on an airplane.”

You nodded, “I mean, it’s pretty weird but I’m not complaining about the deals. Some of the stuff you can buy is so bizarre though. I was on this flight once, going on holiday with my family when I was younger, and they were selling t-shirts with a picture of the airplane we were in on them saying ‘I rode in this plane and all I got was this lousy t-shirt’.”

“That sounds like it’s a total dad shirt,” Bucky laughed slightly. He looked a lot younger when he smiled. He was always so stony and serious but when he smiled or laughed, it knocked years off him. He was already a handsome man but when he smiled, he was just... wow.

You burst out laughing as he said it, “My dad did buy it and he wore it so proudly!”

Bucky laughed with you, finding his nerves easing up as he spoke to you. He hadn’t had a chance to talk to you about anything other than the fact you were soulmates so it felt rather nice to talk to you on another level. It was still prettty strange but it was nice. Steve always told him that you were easy to get along with so he wasn’t too surprised. As you continued to chat, you gasped audibly when you came to the ‘collectibles and merchandise’ page, “There it is!” 

“No way!” Bucky grinned as he looked down at the picture of the t-shirt exactly like the one you described, “Oh, god, it’s hideous.” The two of you lapsed into laughter again, talking and looking at it before Bucky happened to glance out of the window, “We’re in the air?”

You looked out, “Yeah, we took off about fifteen minutes ago actually.” Bucky breathed out an impressed laughter, “My distraction technique always works. Keep the mind occupied on something else like the ugliest t-shirts in the world.”

Bucky smiled, “Thank you and thanks to the ugliest t-shirt ever-” it was then that a man wearing the exact t-shirt you had been slating got up from the seat in front of you and shot you a dirty look as he walked past, “Oh, shit.” It was hard to keep your laughter in but somehow you both managed it.

As you calmed down, Bucky sighed, “No, really, thank you for that.”

You smiled as you handed him the magazines back and sunk back into your seat, “And now, I sleep.”

When you woke up a few hours later, you found yourself to be sitting alone with no Bucky Barnes in sight. You looked up to see a flight attendant coming down the aisle, “Excuse me,” you said with a smile, “do you know where the man sitting next to me went?”

She smiled, the same warm smile that every flight attendant has, “Yes, your husband is in the queue for the toilet, he should be back in a few minutes.”

You nodded, she went to leave when you caught her again, “Sorry, can you do me a favour?”

When Bucky came back, he was pleasantly surprised to see you sitting awake, smiling at him, “Good sleep?” You nodded,  “Don’t worry, you didn’t snore... too loud.” 

Your cheeks burned as he teased you, “Shove it, Barnes,” you scoffed, “I bought us a present.”

He frowned, “A present?”

You grinned as you held up two t-shirts, the exact same one that you both said was the ugliest shirt in the world, “No way!” He laughed, clapping his gloved hands together, “Oh my god, they’re worse in person.”

You laughed as you handed him his, “You’re so welcome. I will make us wear these at some point by the way, don’t think you’re getting out of it.” You’d never seen Bucky smile so wide with pure joy radiating from him. It was nice to see; it made you feel a lot better about the situation that was happening. You and Bucky hadn’t broached the subject of being the other’s soulmates, you actually really didn’t want to have that conversation anytime soon, but it was nice to know that at least you got on a little bit.

The fact that the pair of you were laughing so soon felt wrong. It felt like you were betraying Steve for merely getting along but it was nice. You were scared of what was going to happen and Bucky had been anxious about flying so the pair of you had nothing to do but talk to each other. Sure, it wasn’t a particularly interesting conversation but it was something. It was still a little awkward and a little weird at times but you could look past that for a few minutes to just appreciate the fact that Bucky was doing this.

Soon, you were curled back into your plane seat, your own jacket draped across you, “Thanks,” you said quietly as sleep began to take over,  “for doing this for Steve. I know that it’s not ideal and I know you probably don’t want to be stuck with me for weeks. I appreciate it, Bucky.”

Bucky nodded and didn’t say anything. I’m not doing it for only Steve, I’m doing it for you too. He watched you for a moment longer before closing his own eyes and resting into his own seat.

The rest of the flight went by in a blur, you slept some more, read your book and ate some food. It wasn’t long before it was time to land and Bucky could not have been more happy than in the moment the wheels of the plane landed on the runway. The airport was a relatively quiet which meant that security and getting your bags was a lot faster than anticipated.

Soon, you were waiting with Bucky in line to get a rental car. To your surprise, when it was your turn to speak to the receptionist, Bucky slid a wad of cash over the counter, “I want a car to keep and I want it off book.”

The receptionist, who was a middle aged man with salt and pepper hair, eyed Bucky with narrow eyes and Bucky stared right back at him. You glanced between the two men wondering who would give up the staring contest first. After a pregnant pause, the receptionist shrugged and dug around in the drawer next to him before pulling out a car key, “Grey sedan in Lot C, registration plate ends with RUS. It’s old and a little worse for wear but for this price, best I can do.” He glanced from left to right before sliding the keys across the table. Apparently he seemed to accept the bribe. You raised your eyebrows, looking between the man and Bucky.

Bucky thanked him with a nod before taking the keys and picked up his and one of your bags before walking away with you in tow, “Wait,” you said quietly, rushing to keep up with him, “You just bought a car?!”

Bucky nodded, “We needed a car. This one will do for a while, keeps us off of the radar for a while.”

Finding the car was easy, the hard part was trying to keep up with Bucky. He took long, quick strides that were hard to keep up with. The car was parked alone in Lot C. It was a little old, with some dents and scratches in the doors from previous bumps and accidents and some of the paint had chipped but aside from that, it seemed to be fine. Bucky loaded the bags in the trunk before getting into the driver’s seat. You settled into your seat and Bucky said that it would be a forty minute drive but could do it in half the time if the road’s were quiet. Then, you both set off.

You couldn’t stop staring out of the window, looking at every single detail of Estonia. It seemed like a dream that you’d be waking up from any second now. Your hands fidgeted with your jacket sleeves as you stared out to the vast unknown. What would become of you and your relationship, you had no idea. You didn’t know what was going to happen and you had absolutely no clue where you would be going. A wave of uneasiness crashed over you as you tried to swallow down the nausea. 

The drive seemed to simultaneously be the longest and shortest drive ever. Seconds felt like years and minutes felt like nanoseconds. You just wanted things to go back to how they were two months ago when things were easy and simple and life was without colour. You glanced over at Bucky, wishing that it had been anyone besides him that was your soulmate. Bucky was a decent enough guy from the short time you’d been with him, I mean, he was willing to take you to a safe house for god knows how long after meeting each other less than three times so obviously he was a good guy but... even if you and Bucky ended up friends, ended up falling in love... nothing could ever happen. You just couldn’t do that to Steve. 

Oh, Steve. 

You wondered what he would be doing just now. He would probably be in the gym with Sam, boxing his feelings and emotions about the whole situation out. That’s what he usually did when things were tense or when he was stressed, he would go to the gym and work out for hours. Sam would usually go with him, being his comic relief to make things less stressful for him. You had never been so thankful for Sam Wilson than in that moment of realisation. You had been so focused on what this meant for you and how this would affect you that you’d practically overlooked your boyfriend’s feelings.

Steve would be blaming your kidnapping on himself, even though it wasn’t his fault that Hydra were dickheads. He would be devastated that he’d had to send you off with your soulmate, knowing fine well that you could easily come back home in love with Bucky. It had been so hard for Steve to make that decision but it had to be done. He wished that he could’ve came with you but it was his mess to clean up and he couldn’t just let his friends do it. He wasn’t that selfish even though he wished he could have been. Steve would rely on Sam pretty heavily over the coming weeks. Sam had been such a good friend to Steve in the few years they’d known each other. Sam understood Steve, they shared the same values and same morals and that was something you liked about Sam. Sam wasn’t afraid to stand up and fight for what was right. You knew that Steve would be in good hands with Sam at his side.

Little did you know, Bucky was thinking of Steve Rogers too as he drove. It was surreal that he was driving with you, through Estonia, to a safe house where you’d be for weeks, potentially months. It scared Bucky, honestly. He liked you, not in a romantic way (yet), but he had heard all about you from Steve. All of those months that Bucky was in Wakanda, Steve called every week to check on him. Every week, Steve would talk about you. He remembered the things he would say about you. ‘She’s great, Buck. She’s got this smile, this really wide smile that I’ve only seen a handful of people have in my life. You know the one I mean. That genuinely happy, makes you smile when you see it smile.’, ‘You gotta meet her, Bucky. She’s everything I’ve been looking for and even though we’re not soulmates, we are.’, ‘It’s crazy. After Peggy, I never thought I’d fall in love again but (y/n) came into my life when I needed her most. Every day, I wake up thankful for her. My god, you have to meet her. You two will get on so well. She keeps my on my toes and is hilarious.’

Bucky glanced at you, a familiar pang of guilt shooting through him. You were his best friend’s girl and he could never do anything to pursue you because he cared about Steve too much. Steve was the one person who had given him a chance and had stuck by him through everything. Steve deserved you, Bucky didn’t.

It wasn’t long before Bucky pulled into a driveway. You looked around, realising that you were deep in the woods. It was an off road cabin that seemed to be pretty far from civilisation, “This is it.” Bucky cut the engine before getting out of the car. You stayed put, staring at the cabin in front of you. From the outside, it looked a little run down but very liveable. It was made with a dark oak wood which blended in well with the trees. Passers by would have to do a double take at first because of how well it blended in.

You got out of the car, grabbing the rucksack that had been by your feet. Bucky appeared beside you, carrying all of his and your bags, “Ready?”

You didn’t look at him, eyes stuck on the cabin in front of you. This was it. This was your future. You were unusually terrified as you stared at it. As soon as you stepped into that cabin, your future would change forever. Everything would change. Life as you knew it with Steve would completely change as soon as you walked into that cabin. With your heart beating fast, you took a breath and nodded, following him up the stony path and to the front door. He unlocked it and swung the door open before disappearing inside. You hesitated at the front door, staring at the line on the floor to mark the cabin’s entrance.

“I love you, Steve,” you whispered before stepping into the cabin and closing the door behind you.

The cabin had an old musty smell to it, the smell of emptiness. Clearly, no one had lived here for a long time. The décor was simple and pretty outdated but it was nice. Bucky had flicked the lights on throughout the cabin and was checking each room just to double check. You wandered through each room. The living room was simple with a couple of recliners and a small couch with a small TV on an old coffee table. You’d be surprised if the TV still worked with a thick layer of dust coating it. There was a large fireplace in the middle of the side wall which would be nice on a cold night. The kitchen was nice with everything that the pair of you would need to get started in the wooden cupboards and on shelves. It had a small table in the corner of the room, looking out of the window. Bucky told you that tomorrow, he would go get some shopping and food supplies until then you had the water and a few more snacks.

Next, you ventured into the bedrooms. Yours and Bucky’s separate bedrooms were adjacent to each other. Bucky had dropped his bags in the slightly smaller room. You went to object but the look on his face told you not to even bother. Bucky’s room was smaller yet still spacious enough for a double bed and a wardrobe. Your room was pretty much the same though as well as a wardrobe you had the chest of drawers as well. The shared bathroom was beside your room and it was... well, it was just an outdated bathroom. And that was it.

The cabin wasn’t particularly big or luxurious but it was much than you had expected. You seriously were expecting to sleep on the floor on a bug infested hotel but Bucky had done pretty good. You’d long since abandoned your disguise, feeling much better when looking like yourself. As you wandered around again, checking cupboards, finding extra duvets and pillows in the wardrobe in your room, you remembered something important. You dug around in your bags until you found it; a picture frame. Bucky knocked on your bedroom door. You turned to him, “You don’t need to knock,” you said.

“Come so I can show you something.”

You followed him into the living room as you held the picture frame in your hands. He stopped in front of a painting on the wall moving the painting to reveal a safe, “Oh, wow,” you said surprised.

“I got this safe installed and I’m putting this gun inside it, okay?” He told you, taking a gun from his back pocket. You jumped slightly, not expecting him to wield a weapon in front of you, “This is for emergencies, got it? I’ll teach you how to use it but for now, I’m locking it up in here, okay?”

“I don’t want to use a gun-”

“Neither do I,” Bucky said, cutting over you, “but I have to at least show you how to use it just in case, okay? The code is 0407-”

“Steve’s birthday.”

Bucky faltered before nodding and continuing, “Yeah, Steve’s birthday. Type that in,” he typed it in, “and it’ll unlock.” He dropped the gun inside of it before closing it over, “Re-type the code and it locks. Got it?”

You nodded.

“I always have at least one weapon on me at all times, okay? I have my gun and I have my knife. I’m only putting this here and showing you just in case, okay? We’ll probably never have to use it but it’s just in case something happens, just so I know that if I can’t get to you, you can have some way to protect yourself.”

Again, you nodded. Bucky eyed you carefully, making sure that you were okay with this. You didn’t really know how to feel about it. You weren’t surprised that he had weapons but it scared you the thought of you having to use them. Hopefully it would never come to that though. He could see the toll this was taking on you and you’d barely been gone a day. He was about to ask what you had in your hands when you wandered over to the fireplace and put the photo atop. It was a photo that you had once upon a time hated. It was you and Steve laughing as you posed for a picture in front of your Christmas tree. Nat had taken it on Christmas Eve. You wore a dress that hugged your curves a little too tightly for your liking but Steve had loved to see you in that dress. He always said the colour complimented your complexion so well and now that you could actually see colour, you could see where he was coming from. You loved that picture now, you remembered the night fondly where he twirled you around, telling you how beautiful you were every other minute. So yeah, you could see your protruding stomach and your bigger arms but you loved it. You smiled as you looked at Steve’s smile, heart soaring as you looked at him. Steve could make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world. With him, you truly believed it. Your weight never defined your worth, you defined it.

Almost instantly, Bucky lunged for it, grabbing it and almost tumbling into you,  “What the fuck?!” You hissed, leaping backwards. You hadn’t expected the dark haired super soldier to lunge from across the room, almost knocking you off of your feet to grab the picture frame down.

Bucky released a sharp breath, “The window,” he said gruffly. He pulled the curtains shut quickly, “We can’t put any photos up.”

“Why the fuck not?!”

He rolled his eyes, Steve had warned him that you could be stubborn, “In case we’re being watched. If someone’s tailing us, they might look through the window and have our identities confirmed if we put photos up.”

You rolled your eyes, “If someone’s tailing us then I’m pretty sure that they know our identities already. Give me it back.”

“Fine but you’re not putting it there,” Bucky said.

You glared at him as a bubble of anger boiled in your stomach, “My god, how am I meant to stay here with you for weeks if you’re such an arse over a photo?!”

“Yeah?” Bucky scoffed, “I didn’t have to come here, (y/n). I came because Steve asked. I came for you.”

You were breathing heavy as you glared at each other, “Yeah well maybe I don’t want you here.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be here!”

“Keep the stupid picture.” You turned on your heel and stormed into your bedroom, slamming the door shut behind you. You knew that you weren’t angry at Bucky, you knew that the two of you were tired and hungry. You knew that you were a flurry of emotions from having your life flipped upside down. You knew that Bucky was looking out for your safety but you were pissed and he was the only person near you so he would have to deal with it. 

Bucky sighed heavily as he fell onto the couch, pursing his lips and pinching the bridge of his nose. Yeah, Steve, she’s fucking brilliant. 

It was hours later when you rolled over with a huff. Sleep wasn’t coming easily. You were still too pissed off and because you were still so pissed off, you were only getting more annoyed. You knew that if the anger faded, you’d probably end up crying and you didn’t know which was worse so you just stayed angry. You wished that Bucky would’ve just been able to talk to you normally instead of treating you like a child. You would’ve absolutely understood the picture fiasco had he not leapt over the table and yanked it like a dog stealing someone’s dinner from the table. 

You sat up in bed. Usually, if you couldn’t sleep you’d watch TV or go on your phone but you didn’t feel up for watching the tiny TV in the living room and you obviously didn’t have a phone so you couldn’t do much than think. You’d need to see if there was a cheap CD player and CDs in town so that you could at least have some background noise. The cabin was eerily quiet at night. It was a different surrounding in a different country and everything just felt a little uneasy. You were used to New York where the hustle and bustle was part of every day life but the woods was so quiet aside from the rustling trees... it would take some getting used to.

With a huff, you grabbed your dressing gown from the bag on the floor and made your way into the kitchen. You grabbed a glass and filled it with water before taking a long drink. You didn’t know why you wandered into the living room but you found yourself venturing in and it was then you noticed, in the dim light from the moon, you saw a note and the picture of you and Steve that sat on the coffee table in front of the TV. You picked up the note.

I’m sorry about freaking out over the picture, it’s been a long day. Steve warned me you were stubborn but I wasn’t prepared, I guess. Let’s not put it on the fire place until we’re absolutely sure that no one’s tracking us. Until then, it can go here where it’s not facing a window. Hope that’s okay. It is a lovely picture of you and Steve... Again, sorry. - Bucky

You smiled slightly as you read it before slipping the note into your dressing gown pocket and going back to bed. So Bucky Barnes was decent after all.

[mxnrly]

the red house, changkyun

⠀

slight nsfw, thriller !

I wrote this like a year ago, when this song came out and I fell in love with the mv and the lyrics. If you want to see what the song is, here it is. Either way, I'm editing this at 2 am because I felt the need of posting it. I originally wrote this in spanish and it really took me a while sjdjs I hope you like it tho! 

tw: not too explicit nsfw, unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamic (both are switches, y’all see), pet name,  mentions of blood. 

wc: 6.8k

⠀

An idiot.

That's what I liked to call the kid who lived across the street. An undoubtedly attractive boy. Gorgeous and with a sensual aura like no other. He had an attractive look, and his presence was always full of mystery. He looked like a demon brought from hell, always wearing those dark denim pants that stuck to his legs, a white long-sleeved shirt and a leather jacket set with the logo of a serpent crossed with two swords.

His hair was always messy, because it was straight and he used to run his hand through it at all times. Not that I was constantly looking at him but, it was a twitch I had gotten used to seeing since I had known him.

The boy had been my neighbor for two years now, and every Saturday it was the same, he would leave the house and not come back until the next day. Whenever I told my best friend about him leaving, he told me to just stay away from him, that if I really wanted to keep his trust I should just forget about that boy and move on with my life. But, it was so easy to say or think about it, but not do it. Somehow, being neighbors was making my life difficult because now it seemed that my walls wanted to know about him too and they were getting thinner so that I could hear from when he was leaving until when he arrived.

My best friend's older brother, Jooheon, was the neighbor's best friend. I knew this because I had already seen him in front of the boy's door with his car, a black '69 GTO convertible and a beer in his hand. The two of them got along great because every day since I lived there, they always went out at the same time, no matter what.

That night I was partying with my best friend and a girl with whom I had started to form a friendship because she was in the art department, although she was just a year younger than us.

“You're crazy if you think we're going to let you go.” And there I was, another Saturday night wanting to go wherever my neighbors were.

“I see you've been very interested in him for a long time, what do you think they are doing?” asked the girl while Jooheon and the idiot went inside their house.

“I really don't know, but since he came to this place I want-”

“You want nothing, God, stop making her get any ideas." scolded the boy to the other girl.

The room suddenly became silent, and then somehow, I started to feel my throat and stomach warm. “I don't understand why you don't want me to go.”

“We've talked about this a million times. I'm just protecting you.”

“But from what? I won't know if you don't let me come closer.” My voice was getting louder and louder until it exploded. “You won't let me get close but I know you're as curious as I am, Jooheon is your brother!”

“Jooheon comes back every morning smelling of alcohol and cheap women's perfume. There are always cigarettes in his car and I've found underwear in the glove compartment, do you really want to continue with that curiosity? I don't know exactly what those two do but, believe me, they don't go to a lake to drink and have fun, they have their plans, do strange things and then come back as if nothing had happened.”

“Didn't you try to tell your mother?" asked the younger girl, suddenly causing the boy to deny instantly.

“One of the rules Heon gave me was that I had to keep silence, first of all if, I wanted to continue living with him. Until I'm legal, I can't buy an apartment on my own." he said with a shrug.

Silence reigned again somehow. There was only the faint music of an American artist whom we did not really know.

Staying out until the morning, I can hear the door.

I can smell all the whiskey and the smoke on your breath.

A chill ran down my back and I sighed. “I'm sleepy guys, the day was really exhausting from the beginning and we have a test on Monday so I want to take tomorrow off at dawn to study." I said faster than I planned.

Because tonight, sleep was the last thing in my plans.

Once they had left my house, I went to my room to change my clothes. I put on something comfortable to keep up with them. With my shoes on, I left my house taking my car keys. The boys were leaving the house so I had to hide quickly behind the vehicle. I felt the heaviness in my chest from doing something against my morals.

The sound of the GTO engine took me out of my thoughts. They came quietly out of the parking lot, giving me time to get into my car and start it. My heart started pounding but I stayed focused and started following the boys' car with some distance. They were getting further and further away from the circle of places I knew, but my curiosity seemed to dominate at this point over reason. I knew that was a bad sign, but I had gone far enough to take it back.

The car quickly drove off the road into some black buildings. Now, I knew that if I followed them in there I would look very obvious, so I drove past the place and saw that there was no way out. They were parked in front of a wall that was purple because of the neon light up there. Debating whether to go or not, I finally turned off the vehicle and started getting out of it.

I walked to the large green door which was lit by the purple light, noticing that, from the wall, a strange vibration could be felt. Music. That's all it could be.

I opened the door and instantly smelled the stench of nicotine and liquor. There was a certain mixture of lotions and perfumes that made everything more intense. The door closed behind me, making me shudder. Hell, I wanted to go home.

Resigned, I began to walk around the place watching my feet because there seemed to be unevenness everywhere. The place was painted red, although it was because of the coloured lights on the sides of different walls. Red was the only thing you saw, everything was tinted and it seemed to be a much scarier place than it really was.

I took the first glass I saw, smelling the strong smell of tequila and mint. I grimaced a little and took a sip, as I put it back in its place again. I couldn't see the boys anywhere and that was starting to scare me. What if they were somewhere else and had deceived me?

I was overthinking the situation, when I felt a strong pull on my arm. Someone had taken me in a very firm manner. Before I could protest, the person who had alienated me showed his face.

And I saw him. I was dazed at seeing his face tinted by the red lights.

“I told you not to come, why don't you ever listen to me?”  my best friend, the one who always prohibited me to come to where his brother was, asked almost above the level of the music. My mind was beginning to wander, but I held on.

“What do you mean, don't come? You had told me that you had no idea what they were doing, and now it turns out that you are one of them?”

The boy rubbed his face lightly and took me by the shoulders. “You're crazy, they're going to kill you. Get out of here, now.”

That made my world stop. Kill?

“What are you saying?” But before he could even answer, the light went out making the music go away, causing all the people to scream. Several people beside me ran past, knocking me to the ground, and I feared the worst.

I squatted in fear without really knowing what to do, when I suddenly stopped and hit someone running in my direction. I felt a camera flash in my face and my stomach turned over. The flash went off leaving me stunned. The person took my hand and started running towards what appeared to be the other side of the room, opposite the direction of where the exit door was. Suddenly the screaming stopped and the door lock was heard being set. My legs shook and I swallowed hard. I didn't know anything about self-defense, so I thought about the only thing I was supposed to protect myself and that was my car keys. I grabbed, with each key I had between my fingers, making a fist with spikes in case this person got too far.

Then the light came, but not the artificial light. A natural light. A candle.

I looked at the back of the person who had lit the device, noticing a snake on his back. Oh God.

“You're lucky I brought you this far. People usually die in the state you were in, not to mention that it's your first time in the red house.”

My mind was spinning. Death? Red house?

“I'm sorry, I…”

“I know you don't understand anything, you don't have to worry, (Y/N). Things are simple…”

“Wait wait, how do you know my name?”

The boy smiled, but only because he didn't answer my question. “I am Changkyun, so we are even.”

A small silence formed. There were hasty footsteps on the other side of the door and desperate hands trying to find a room, I supposed.

“Quiet," he said, "no one is going to come in, but they can’t know that we’re here.”

“So, are you going to explain to me what this is all about?” I asked, anxiety in my voice.

“Listen, this place isn't for people like you," he said with a dark look in his eye. “Every Saturday there is a massive party where people come to play something like hide and seek," he said with a touch of mockery, but there was more to his voice than that. “There are people who are the "seekers", those who look for people to catch them, when the lights go out, people have ten minutes to run and hide without being able to leave the place, and when those ten minutes are over…”

A loud noise that made the whole building rumble was heard loud and clear. Changkyun smiled and looked at me. “It is time to play.”

The boy reached inside his jacket and looked at me before taking the goatee. “Don't leave here until I come back for you. Don't open the door for anyone, understand?”

My nod did not reach his eyes for he had already left the room and locked it again before closing the door behind him. I turned around to look around, finding a couch that looked warm, a rug in the middle of the room, and a mini-bar. I didn't want to wonder what the room was for because there were other strange surfaces.

I sighed as I sat on the couch with the candle in my hand. The idiot was into this kind of game, but I still didn't understand enough, what did he mean when he said it was time to play? The idea that this was a deadly game haunted me, but it couldn't be that murky. I unconsciously denied it by huddling more in my place. A few screams were heard outside the room, causing me to shiver. Good Lord, what was all that about?

I couldn't just stand here, what if I'd just been set up? Yes! That had to be it.

I approached the door slowly, removing the latch and preparing to leave when I felt the door open from the outside. It was Changkyun rushing in, panting without facing me. I looked at his back with curiosity, without blowing out the candle, he turned to see me. I could see the drops of what appeared to be blood on his shirt and face.

My body froze.

"Run"

My movements went faster than I thought trying to go around him to escape through the door that was still open, however a gust of wind hit my face when I noticed the door closing with twice the speed I was going. I closed my eyes in fear and lowered my head. Was I really going to die now?

“Raise your head, we must get out of here," he said, puzzling me.

“Aren’t you gonna kill me?” I asked, but he didn't answer. He walked past me and opened the only window in the room wide, tore the spring and squatted on the frame. And out of nowhere, I lost sight of him.

I screamed as I saw him fall. Rushing to the frame, I saw him standing in the grass on that side of the place. I wondered how come we were on the second floor if, in my memory, I hadn't walked up the stairs.

“Jump!” He shouted from below, showing his arms in front of him.

“You're crazy!” I shouted in annoyance looking behind me. There was no way he could make me jump.

“They're going to kill you. Come here.”

“How do I know you won't kill me?” I asked, scared, my throat tightening. I looked at the free fall I would have and felt the air get stuck in my chest.

”We'll go home, I promise, I'll tell you everything, but please come with me," he begged, and it was the first time I'd seen him this worried. He always used to look relaxed and without any worry in him, but the reality just now was different.

My shoulders fell in place. I would die anyway. The screams kept coming from the door, when it suddenly opened. The latch had never been set and now it was just me and death. I looked over my shoulder, noticing a figure approaching.

“Please!" was the last thing I heard before I fell freely through the door frame.

And everything went black.

A severe headache was constantly poking at my head. The back of my eyes hurt, as if I had been looking at the artificial light for a long time. I was cold and somehow I could think it was midnight. Hearing noise in the distance, I sat down where I had been lying. It was my living room, but there was someone else. My heartbeat quickly started to increase when I remembered a little of what had happened.

“You woke up. Here, I made you some tea, but I'm not good at anything that has to do with cooking so I don't think it tastes like anything," said the idiot, suddenly appearing with a half smile, rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort.

I tasted it and indeed, it tasted like nothing but bitter water, but I didn't tell him. I just took a deep breath and looked at it. He was looking at me so intently that I almost forgot what had happened. The stains on his shirt gave him away and he wasn't wearing his jacket.

“What happened," I asked, holding the cup in both hands so that he could give me some warmth. Changkyun sighed and sat down beside me. “You fainted, I think from the fright and the mixed emotions. I had no car, so I went through your pockets and found your keys and brought us home.”

Listening at his statement, I took a look outside my house seeing the car perfectly parked in the driveway. “Did you put your hands in my pants?” I asked with a scowl.

The boy instantly raised his hands in fright. “No, the keys were in your sweatshirt," he said, clearing his throat after that. “I'm sorry you were there, you really can't go back…”

“I want to know everything about that place, though…” Changkyun looked at me with doubt, and I put the cup down on the small coffee table. “You said you would explain everything if I threw myself out of the window, and here we are so start talking.”

“Well,” he was a bit quiet after that, as if trying to find the right words. “every Saturday there's a massive party at that place. Everyone knows about that party because of its high class alcohol and good vibes, but everything has its price. When it's eleven o'clock, the lights go out and people have to hide, of course, the ones who know what the game is about, the ones who don't, just run around senselessly. You have ten minutes to hide wherever you want in the house and when those ten minutes are up, the seekers come out to have some fun. What we call, "the wolf." Have you ever heard the nursery rhyme of, "We'll play in the forest while the wolf is away? Well, that's what it's about. They go out at ten past eleven to kill anyone they can get their hands on, lights out. When another ten minutes go by, the lights come back on and the party's over.”

My surprised face seemed to alarm him as he got nervous and looked down. “Once you enter the red house parties, you can't stop attending, because after that day, they know all about you and will do his best to see you die. The red house is a secret, no one should tell the police, and there has to be a winner. One that's left alive among all of us…”

“Then you and Jooheon…”

“Yes, he and I went into those parties three years ago, but after the first one we were as scared as anyone else. We left intact and tried to just forget about it and move on with our lives, but the seekers were smarter. They started sending us letters threatening to come back or kill anyone we came in contact with. We tried to move but nothing worked, so... We had no choice but to play the game.”

“But why are you the one who's full of blood? I could bet you're carrying a knife in your jacket right now.” I accused him, staring at his stained shirt.

“I'm carrying a knife because we've formed a clan. We're seven people from different places and ages who are willing to kill the seekers to end this nonsense, but... They have lots of henchmen, too, and every Saturday it seems to get harder.”

I looked at the clock on the wall in front of us striking twelve in the morning. I felt somehow agitated and helpless. “Jooheon’s little brother told me that you were beginning to be interested in going to the parties, but he never let you because we knew what you would be exposed to. He is an ally, not a member of the clan, but because of Jooheon he ended up in trouble. You were really warned, you have to run away, or dig a hole and stay there…’

‘What if I fight with you?’ I said but I felt I should have kept quiet. His gaze became darker as his breathing became heavier.

“I would never let you expose yourself to that, you are crazy.” His tone was so authoritative that I did not know whether I wanted to challenge him or obey his order.

“Listen, you said that somehow the seekers know who you are. Before I jumped out the window a man saw me, they know who I am already... I might as well die so let me fight for my life.”

“I can't let those bastards hurt you.”  his voice seemed to get deeper as time went by. “I won't let them touch a single strand of your hair.”.

His attitude took me by surprise. “Changkyun…” I tried to negotiate with him, come to an agreement.

My voice was interrupted as I was whipped on my back, with both of his hands around my wrists pinching any possible movement. I had him so close, God. He smelled of pure masculinity... of heavy, dark perfume mixed with sweat. I inhaled without wanting to look too harassing, but it was impossible to go unnoticed by the boy's eyes, who smiled so charmingly.

“You are not going to die... Not tonight, not ever," he whispered close to my lips. I stuck out my tongue as a reflection and that drew the boy's gaze upon me. His eyes connected with mine, directing them a few milliseconds to my lips and back to my eyes, as if to say let me kiss you.

I inhaled hard again filling my lungs with his scent, starting to feel the weight of his lips on mine. I closed my eyes on contact and I could swear I had tasted an aphrodisiac. The texture was so similar to silk but the depth with which he took me was so mesmerizing that my brain threatened to fade again. I opened my eyes, noticing her eyelashes lying so thinly on his cheeks, which were slightly flushed. His black bangs tickled my eyebrows because of the closeness. Slowly he let go of my wrists, giving me way to touching his shoulders and running my arms around his neck, as I felt his muscles contracting. One of his hands went down to my waist in circles, while the other remained steady on my cheek, not letting its weight fall entirely.

His back muscles tensed and relaxed as my tongue gently traced his lower lip, seeking to deepen the kiss. Changkyun gladly agreed to begin a delightful dance, each taking his time to delve into the other's body. Changkyun pressed his body against mine, causing me to gasp, which separated me from the kiss, causing us to open our eyes to see each other. His lips were tinged with a light and beautiful red, while I happened to notice a glint above his left eye. I reached out with one hand to clear his bangs and found a striking detail on eyebrow. A captivating perching that lit a flame inside me.

I brought him back to my lips and we enjoyed each other's company all night long. Maybe this game thing could be a reason to see each other more often.

I woke up in my room, in a horrible heat. My neck and back were sweating, which made me instantly sick. It was 7:00 in the morning and it was already so damn hot. I took a shower and went into the living room to find Changkyun's body lying on the couch. His jacket was on one of the kitchen chairs, so I went over to check it out. I reached into the first pocket, instantly pulling out the knife I knew he was carrying. It was partially covered in blood. Feeling an electric shock down my spine, I couldn't help but sigh deeply. At any rate, Changkyun was the good guy, right?

I found his cell phone, but I felt his stare on the side of my head. I turned around to see that Changkyun had woken up but not only that, he was looking directly at me.

“Are you looking for something that proves the opposite of what I showed you yesterday?”

“I am.” I said, nodding.

“Damn it, I thought everything was all right," he said in a hoarse voice, snatching his cell phone from me.

I frowned and shrugged. “You always have to be careful.”

That seemed to insult him as he looked at me skeptically. Not giving a second glance at him, I headed to the kitchen for a glass of orange juice. The boy quickly went to the refrigerator to pour himself the same drink. I noticed the smell of last night with more intensity and turned around to see it. He wasn't wearing a shirt.

The liquid froze in my throat making me feel the sudden acidity, causing my body to cough slightly. The image that I had in my kitchen was worthy of admiration but I simply could not stand it at seven in the morning. Changkyun laughed and tapped my back.

“I'm sorry to surprise you, it's just that it's hot," he said as if it were the most normal thing to do. My eyes rolled back in their narcissism and I headed for my living room.

“Don't you want to take a shower?”

The boy moved his eyebrows suggestively. “Do you want to see me all wet and naked?”

My face turned a deep red and I had to refrain from throwing the remaining juice in the glass. “At your house, you idiot.”

“Yes, try to fix your horniness.” He said, taking his clothes. “I'll be back in a minute, princess.”

I fake gagged at the pet name and rolled my eyes. He put his shirt back on and left my house giving me time to breathe. God, couldn't I be in the same place as him for one more minute without thinking about indecent things?

After a few minutes of searching for something to watch on netflix, I settled down on my couch when the doorbell rang.

“It's still open.” I yelled because I assumed it was Kyun, but no one came in. Strange. I got up from my place opening the door, finding Jooheon’s brother.

“Can I come in?" he asked hesitantly. I looked at him in surprise, and without saying anything to him, I moved away from the door to let him in. “I only came to apologize for having lied to you about not knowing anything. I also came to see if you were all right.” His look never connected with mine, which bothered me to some extent. I crossed my arms and looked at him.

“I don't understand why you did it, but I guess it doesn't matter now, it just matters to get out of that silly game.”

“Did Changkyun explain everything to you?” I nodded and cleared my throat.

“Yes, he brought me home.”

He played with his hands and reached into his jacket bag. Taking out a small envelope, he gave it to me. “Don't trust anyone.” He whispered before he left, making me scoff. Yeah right, look who says that.

Once the boy left my house, I took the envelope in both hands and sighed. There was no sign of Changkyun returning from his home, so I tore the white envelope and found a half-wrinkled note with somewhat illegible handwriting, but which clearly said, "Welcome to the game.” with my name in the bottom right corner. There was an extra note that made my heart start beating fast. I was beginning to think that my best friend, if I could still call him that, had more ideas about the game than others might have. I shook my head and sighed, I couldn't do that to Changkyun and Jooheon, they had somehow kept an eye on me all this time.

The doorbell of my house rang, making me shudder, to quickly put the letter in the first drawer I saw. I took three deep breaths and then approached the door. I opened it to find the boy with a purple hoodie and a gray pantsuit. I smiled at him as calmly as possible and invited him in.

Saturday again. I had contacted my best friend several times after that letter. He assured me that he did not know absolutely about its contents but I knew that he was lying to me. Now he would take me to the building, winning over Changkyun whom I had to refuse the offer.

Speaking of Changkyun, we had both had meetings at the other's house, more casual than I would have thought. He rarely went over the line and always used to make the times much more comfortable. We had not reached the stage where we had gone to bed for any purpose other than sleep, and somehow he felt that he was waiting for something.

At ten o'clock, the car parked in front of my house. I was just about to leave when I noticed my best friend coming into my house at a fast pace with a box in his hands. He scanned my body, noticing my red satin dress and my silver heels. He smiled and took my hand.

“I think I have something for you," he said, pulling out a black dress that was supposed to be attached to my body, halfway up my thigh and angel wings of the same color. I looked at him skeptically and he laughed. “Come on, it's part of the deal if you want to come to the party after all, and I know Changkyun will not resist you with this on.”

I took the garment in my hands and took a big breath of air. Would he really?

I didn't think about it anymore. Going to my room and putting on my clothes. A chill ran down my back but I did not let the feeling of fear win over me, just taking a couple of deep breaths before returning to the room where my friend was sitting on the couch with his cell phone in his hands. When he saw me, he smiled broadly and took my hand to walk on my feet. “Damn, you look beautiful. Let’s go now, there’s a boy you must conquer tonight.”

That night I felt that I was about to make the biggest mistake of my life but at the same time I thought… Do I really have to do this to come out alive? Could the game end after all?

We entered the building. The walls were moving at the sound of the song playing currently...

My breath got stuck in my throat when I located the boy I was there for. Changkyun saw me with such a penetrating and seductive look. He was wearing leather jeans alongside a short-sleeved satin shirt with different colored patterns, purple, blue, yellow and red. There was a chain on his pants and from his neck fell a necklace of what appeared to be a gold chain. His hair was disheveled, although it had a specific direction and that was his right, raised slightly upwards allowing me to see his forehead and his piercing to perfection. As we connected glances, he smiled openly at me. My throat closed for a moment, leaving me breathless, but I managed to look normal to his scrutinizing gaze.

Apologize, never apologize

You hate the way I lie

So here you go, I'm being honest

“Hey, are you a fallen angel?" he asked, touching his fingertips to the wings tied behind my back. I smiled and denied that question.

“No, I only came to find a demon with which to play tricks in this destroyed world." I said, approaching him tentatively. At my boldness, I noticed how his gaze darkened a little.

“Then it's your lucky day, because I'll be the one to deny you entry to heaven, honey.”

Narcissist, come on, give us a kiss

Let's have some fun with it

It's kinda sweet...

Both of us, with the look of some children with a new toy, starting to head for the same place. It was still early, so the seekers and his henchmen didn't worry us at all. Once inside the room we had been in a week ago, Changkyun locked the door, his back at me. At the sight of his legs inside those leather pants, I couldn’t help but bite my lower lip. Thoughts of impurity began to tingle in my mind, causing my temperature to rise constantly.

Once the boy began to approach me, I felt that I still had a way out and that everything could change at any moment. That I still had time to take it back. But then he planted his lips on mine and all I could think about was "Shit."

The situation was getting deeper and more exciting. It tasted bitter, as if it had tasted blood itself before it kissed me. The slight taste of alcohol flooded my taste buds as his tongue investigated my palate. Our tongues brushed against each other, sending shivers down my spine. Jesus.

His scent was beginning to make me dizzy. Too manly and addictive, it made me want more, like nicotine straight into my bloodstream. I gasped for air, which the boy agreed to do by separating himself from me. In less time than I thought, my back was on the couch in the room, my eyes looking directly into his irises that I could hardly discern from the lack of light, since the only light there was the red LED light that was all over the building. His skin was slightly pinkish. His touch traced my figure in an exquisite manner, making me feel a warm path where he posed his fingertips.

Four in the morning, you're changing the locks

How could you do this to me?

I placed my hands around his neck and brought my lips close to his, nibbling on the soft, tender skin. His moles covered some extremities of his body provoking me to mark each and every one with marks that could become darker for the next morning. He was mine. Changkyun was mine for the night.

I only love you when you don't love me

Oh, baby, so, why do you love me?

His hands pulled the wings off my back in a slow and torturous manner causing the air to get stuck in my lungs with no escape. His lips went to my collarbones making me separate from him. His tongue began to trace the exposed skin smiling on the way. With his hands, he slipped the straps over my shoulders to drag the dress to my lower body. That's when I leaned on the bed with my feet pushing my hips up so he could finish pulling the garment out.

He smiled at the sight and stood on his knees on either side of my waist to remove his shirt. Every button he undoes means one more step towards one of my deepest fantasies. His torso was exposed, with only his chain resting lazily on his torso. His marked abdomen prompted me to run my tongue over it to taste his sweet flesh and be ecstatic about the ragweed.

I sat up on my elbows looking at the belt that clung to his pants, asking permission with my eyes to help him with that task. Changkyun took the hint and laid down beside me, letting out a gasp. I smiled as it dawned on me that we were at the edge of the cliff, but if it was with him, I would give it my all.

I sat on his lap, feeling his bulge against my core. I gasped at the sensation and made my way to unbuckle the black belt with the silver buckle. I removed the garment in two moves and now, I needed to unbutton his pants. I ran my tongue over my lower lip, directing my hands at a slow speed to tempt his patience, which did not seem to last long. The boy raised his hip to me, grunting underneath.

“What's the matter, kitty, do you want me to help you with your torturous pain?" I asked in a voice that was as if in velvet as I squeezed the right places to make him delirious. “Learn how to beg, darling.”

My index finger began to sway over the boy's covered member, which drove him crazy. He looked at me with his lust filled eyes. “Do it. Please.”

He mumbled that last word, more against his will. With a smile, I removed the button from his leather jeans, dragging the cloth down his thighs. Then I stared at his underwear with a hungry look. The boy noticed my glance and with one movement I was at his mercy again under his body.

“Well played, angel, but in this game you must learn who is in charge," his voice so damned hoarse made my body eager with the sound. The boy took off my bra with one hand, looking agitated. My head dropped back quickly at the sensations. My center began to vibrate with the music in the background.

Without being able to wait a second longer, he removed my underwear by tapping the middle finger of his left hand on my bundle of nerves.

“God..." I hissed at the feeling of that digit, groping on forbidden ground.

The boy smiled as he took off his only remaining cloth, positioning himself on me. We looked at each other for a minute. A long minute, where I could read his eyes. Pure, raw lust.

His member was slowly and pleasantly buried inside me. My hip was raised by the reflection, making me take a big breath of air. I was not a virgin but, it had been so long and the sensation was new and delirious.

“Welcome to hell, little angel," he whispered as he began his deep pounds on me. My face broke into pure moaning and unexplained sounds as I enjoyed the sensation produced by her touch.

The moment reached its peak, approaching with a great electric shock that ran from the tips of my feet to the surface of my head. We both came in unison, creating an exquisite harmony to the contrast of his deep voice and mine. Our gasping and gasping breaths spoke for themselves. Our glances spoke what our mouths couldn't. The connection we created in that instant was so strong and powerful that I thought it would fade. The red light around us fell in a minute, leaving us in darkness. The smell of liquor and sex surrounded us without shame.

In the face of that darkness. The boy came out of me causing one last tremor. And that was the sign. I crawled to my clothes strewn over the arms of the sofa, pulling a knife from the wings of my costume.

I'm fucking crazy, you're fucking crazy, we're all fucking crazy;

I held my breath for a minute.

And then, exhaled hard.

I couldn't see anything at all, and that made everything strangely interesting. I gasped away, crawling to the edge of the sofa where the light was slightly off. And then I saw him.

I noticed how his skin glowed with sweat and his eyes darkened. The light coming in from the window helped me to identify his eyes. His torso was still naked but the bottom was on the dark side of the sofa.

“Pity angel, you decided to be seduced by the ideas of living in a world of lies.”

I drew my knife dangerously close to his naked abdomen. His breathing became faster and his heart began to beat erratically. The metal device I held in my hands began to trace his chest slowly, delineating his skin, his outline. The boy looked at me, some kind of mix between horror and pleasure on his features. Happy in how the game had turned out, I took his jaw with my free hand looking directly at him. A smile spread across my face and I instantly noticed the boy's eyes opening wide, looking up at me, like begging for mercy.

I began to apply more pressure on his chest by opening a slight cut. The air got stuck in my throat, forcing me to continue.

“Only then will we set you free. Kill the leader of the snake clan. Kill Changkyun. It's an easy job, don't you think?"

I closed my eyes trying to make the seekers boss' voice disappear from my ears. My jaw clenched tightly as I struggled with my subconscious about the real right decision.

“Please...” his voice came out in a thread of voice as I felt the burning in his chest, but maybe not because of the physical wound but because of the wound in his heart.

“Oh no," I said with a smile, denying in the process. “No. Your glory days are over, kitty.” I took the impulse, and then, to add more drama to the matter, I asked. “Your last words, Changkyun?

Great was my surprise to see him looking much darker than ever before. With a confused look on my part, I heard him say. “Do you know what they say at the end of every game?”

I jumped up and down as I felt his hand grab my wrist. He dropped me on the arm of the sofa using my own hand, now in the opposite direction, showing the edge to me. With a serious and firm look, he approached my ear whispering the words that were about to dictate my death.

“I knew you wouldn’t be brave enough. It’s time to say game over… (Y/N)”

[fndmxreader]

fandom: harry potter. pairing:  remus lupin x reader | the reader simps for lupin because isn’t that all what we do daily ?  summary:   connected to the self indulgent series where the reader is a slytherin muggle born witch working alongside the teachers at hogwarts.   note: this series will bounce around a lot involving timelines, but a lot of them don’t really have a coherent story line anyway.  movie setting:  prisoner of askaban.  pov:   she/her pronouns.

you were looking off into the distance in a daze, end of pen in mouth as your writings came to a halt and instead getting caught up in thoughts.  your summer hadn’t been great,  if you were being completely honest :  your muggle friends were getting on your case regarding being missing for a year,  you knew at some point you had to pick : the wizarding world or the muggle one,   living two lives was absolutely exhausting,  living them meant being two types of people - like one example,  you had accidentally used a levitating spell to put a cup back and last minute your friend walked in, smashing on the floor as your hand flinched down to your side.

“ what was that crash ? “  “ i put the mug too close to the counter, “ you had laughed nervously, quickly walking towards the glass to pick it up “ it fell off as a result ”  “you’re clumsiness is going to be the death of you “    

that was only one of the close calls,  there were far too many to keep track of,  including dropping hints to the wizarding world in conversation, only to stutter and try and say you were referencing a bizarre indie movie from overseas. at this point you were trying to pick would it be even possible to choose a side ?  it seemed impossible just to pick one over the other,  especially knowing that no matter what route you take it would result in an empty, hollow feeling left inside of chest.    you’re not sure who you could go to for guidance,  you weren’t familiar with any muggle borns your own age,  and talking to a pureblood or half blood would go in vein,  the latter would understand to some degree,  but ultimately it’s not the same and with it being so complicated,  listening to people who barely got it would be a waste of time and only twist the knife in gut. 

 “ everyone,  i would like to introduce you to remus jo - “     that was all you really heard dumbledore say before ears blocked out the world like static,  everything beyond the screaming in your head made everything else seem like a distant hum with no tune,  a crackle of a tv that can’t quite catch signal.  your pen tapped against your bottom lip,  perching against it as you eyebrows knitted together in deep thought.   

maybe professor dumbledore could help,  he wouldn’t get it but maybe he could shred some light on the situation ? he was always good at that. 

“ miss l/n - “

perhaps it’s all just being blown out of proportion,  work leave would surely be something the muggles would understand that.  even if they are after photos, work gossip and other details - 

“ y/n “  between the firmness and the sudden block of your view as the men stepped into eyesight causes you to flinch,  reeling away from nothing in panic as you try and grasped your surroundings once more,   blinking up in a rapid succession that causes concern to flash on the two men’s faces.  it takes a moment to register where you were,  the surroundings,  what the hell was going on in general... 

“ huh ? “  your tongue pokes out to roll against your bottom lip,  eyes wide as you stared up at dumbledore,  only for sight to break away from the one your most familiar with to the new guy...    you won’t lie to yourself,  you weren’t ready for seeing someone like him,  especially in your state.  his eyes were beaming with life,  amusement dancing behind dark hues as a faint smile tugged at lips,  hands pushed far into pockets as eye contact seemed to lock,  your lips part to say something,  anything but much like before your brain seemed to short circuit,  this time for an entirely and much more embarrassing reason,  “ huh ? “ you repeated again,  cheeks coming to life with colour as you kept looking at the new guy.

“ this is professor lupin, y/n.   the new defence against the dark arts teacher - “  speaking slower now,  and you’re rather grateful for the approach because you really needed things to stop going by so quickly,  the whole world seemed to flash in front of you at lightening speed.

“ oh “ a pause,  then it really began to register “ OH ! “  it was the most beautiful example of a pin drop ever to grace hogwarts’ walls  (  yes,  dumbledore will be thinking about it years to come  )   -  you jump up rather clumsily and hold your hand out to the man  “ hi,  sorry  -  i was just ... never mind,  hi  ! “ you repeated again,  the embarrassment settling deep within bones,  making itself at home in the creases of mind that would take weeks to weave out.  but regardless of the mocking in head, you do your best to not feed it and give it anymore attention... at least for the time being.   lupins much bigger hand wraps around yours,  a firm but gentle grasp as he finally takes the moment to speak himself. 

“ that’s quite alright,  i can tell that we disturbed you.  in fact i believe we should be the ones apologising, however professor dumbledore here insisted on the introduction - “ it came easily,  between tone of his voice and the warmth of his hand, you’ve never felt safer, it was like being in a warm hug beside the fire on the night of winter;   you mentally slap yourself for acting like a teenager towards a complete stranger.   your eyes however, narrow towards dumbledore,  in a way blaming you own pathetic display on him.  a faint smile on his lips as he made up some excuse to leave the pair of you alone,  not at all hiding the way his eyes twinkled with amusement at the scene that played out. 

your hand flexed around remus’,  far too busy sending daggers at dumbledore walking away than the fact you were still holding the older man hostage,  not helping the murmured   “ ugh,  he can be such an arse sometimes - “ 

“ i believe that’s apart of the charm “ remus chimed,  your eyes moving back to his as you smiled up at him once more,  less tense than what your face was previously  “ um,   miss l/n ?  your hand - “ 

“ oh, fuck, sorry - “   instantly your arms folded across your chest,  the blush only darkening your cheeks “ i promise i’m not this socially inept,  well,  at least to this extent - “ 

“ oh,  don’t fret.  i’ve met much worse people,  i myself tend to panic in social situations.  they’re not my forte “   you shoulders relax,  though you can’t help but note that he seemed surprisingly at ease even with the confession. your eyes dance around the staff room,  much to your own relief they seemed to be back to focusing on their own work. 

“ well,  you’re doing much better than me if that’s any help.  so,  you’re teaching dark arts -  ? “ then the conversation seemed to spark to life without much spluttering after that,  eventually both sitting on the couch and bonding over lessons;  including how you got your position in the first place,   your arm rested on the back of the furniture as your body turned fully to him,  the longer the pair of you were sat there,  the more they progressed beyond work and more into personal ones, about experiences outside of hogwarts and within the walls, not helping the fits of giggles that bubbled in your chest. 

“ being a slytherin comes with the natural title of ‘dark pranks,’  most of us tend to live up to the name.  people demonise us,  so we give them a reason to continue it.  that certainly doesn’t end at our humour, i think it shows more than ever in that aspect - “ you giggled again, head shaking  “ i remember my friends putting a real snake in one of the gryffindors bed covered in animals blood, the girl panicked for weeks  -  but they started it  ! “   

“ i must say being a gryffindor myself,  i feel like i should be offended on behalf of them.  then again,  my friends here were trouble makers as well.  their pranks could... “  wrist rolled in the air,  and while there’s a hint of pain twisting in features and a haunted look that seemed to cover bright eyes,  there was still a fondness in how he spoke  “ extremely, well and truly out of hand ? “

“ ahah  ! “  it’s like a triumph,  finger pointing at the others face   “ you can hide behind the fancy wording all you want, professor.  but you gryffindors can be just as over the top as the rest of us,  if not more so ! “  he knocks your hand away from his face playfully,  grin widening as mock offence does its best to take over features.

“ firstly,  you may call me remus,  second of all,  i will agree with nothing you say,  i would never stoop so low. “ 

your heart skipped a beat at the notion. 

“ you may call me y/n, only when you admit i’m right - “ 

a nice joke to push down the giddiness of calling him by his first name the short hours of knowing him. 

“ how very slytherin of you - “ 

“ how very gryffindor of you to point that out, remus “ 

the back and forth banter eventually came to a halt, as minutes ticked by it was time to go to the great hall for food and to sort out the new years. you and remus walked in a comfortable silence,  a lightness surrounding you both as it showed in your steps, and showed in the way his lips remained locked in a subtle smile.  you were left with one feeling...  finally, dumbledore hired someone worthwhile. you would also give him a hard time for that awkward bow that he did at dinner. 

[bonktime]

Weather The Storm

Chapter 2: Hand Over Fist

Ezra (Prospect) x f!reader (no y/n) 1861 Lighthouse au 

Rated: E (just the whole story)

Previous // Masterlist // Next

Art by the incredible @honestly-shite​ I’m so blown away 🥰💘

Summary: Ezra settles into life in the north but he can’t seem to wrap his head around the keeper. As they dance around each other a clash with another local brings some truths into the light.

Warnings: Language, violence, a boat load of sexual tension, a bunch of victorian sexism, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort? (smut will come)

Note: Written in the 3rd person so i guess you could read as oc? but I never name or describe her, except being short. I had loads of fun writing this! Loads of descriptions of the weather because that’s who I am and also touching. Next chapter will probably be a little late but please forgive me!

Wordcount: 3630

~~~~~~~~~

The wind was like nothing else. Four days at sea and Ezra was fairly sure it was making him deaf. It roared and screamed through the wood of the boat like he's never heard. Rattling anything loose and merging with the groans of the beams and the waves into a great cacophony of noise.

There was a knack to sailing in winds so strong, one he was very glad he'd got the hang of previously else he would probably have been tossed overboard that first morning. Even so the violent movement of the ship beneath him had been a surprise. Any time he put anything down he had to keep a close eye or it would end up on the other side of the room. It made sleep exceedingly difficult when being tossed out of the hammock was a possibility, so he was lucky to get a couple of hours between shifts.

The work was hard and one particularly malicious seagull had made off with a biscuit he had been about to take a bite out of, combined with the lack of sleep and the rolling waves, it had made him irritable at best down right foul at worst. Still, the rest of the crew were likable and only jibed in a good humoured way at the newcomer. And, whenever the bite of the cold got too much, he had a new memory to warm him up. Even so as they came into port on that forth morning, he was picturing that warm bed and the flickering firelight. 

On the walk back along the sea something caught his eye. He stopped to pick it up.

 ⧫⧫⧫

Ezra arrived just as the keeper was leaving the lighthouse. She saw him crossing the causeway, as the sun peeked over the horizon, turning the sky every colour from deep blue to the brightest pink. He waved at her as she waited for him to approach, unable to help but admire her. Dressed in blue, she contrasted against the sky and its reflection in the water. She positively shone. As he got close, he smiled.

"It would appear I was wilfully incorrect about something"

"About what?" She cocked her head at him

"There is colour here. But to witness it you must have patience. "

He took a step closer. holding out his hand "I discovered this on my meander back to your charming abode, I believe you would appreciate it." In her hand he gently placed a chunk of sea glass, worn soft by the sands but still bright deep blue. He stayed close as she held it up to let the sun shine through. She could smell the sea on him, salty and something else. Looking up at him she wondered why he had been so thoughtful. "It's beautiful, thank you" he smiled at her, eyes creasing warmly.

 ⧫⧫⧫

A week passed and they talked in the mornings but their days never seemed to line up so they could only see each other for meals. Ezra spent his evenings in the living room, reading by the fire whenever he was home, and his mornings wandering the coast to distract himself from the woman in the water. 

Once on his walk he met the other keeper. The man had looked exhausted as if he was carrying a weight on his shoulders. He didn't say much, just to give his thanks to the other keeper and then he'd hurried away.

Further down the shoreline he liked to watch the market get set up. Watch the women waiting for the fishing boats to get in, preparing to gut and fillet and sell. He chatted to them sometimes, offering a hand carrying out the tables if they needed it. One girl always gave him a cup of tea after, laughing at his jokes and smiling. She was pretty and definitely would have caught his eye before. But now? He was friendly enough, and polite, but just couldn't work out why he was so uninterested. It wasn't like him. She made a nice friend though, and it was pleasant to get to know someone apart from the keeper even if he wasn't staying too long. And even if he didn't know the keeper all that well.

Ezra mentioned a woman he met at the fishery to the keeper. As much as she knew and liked her, it stung in a way the keeper couldn't quite identify. She was kind and soft and pretty and just the opposite of her. All of her hard edges and bitterness and isolation. But she didn't have any good cause or right to feel envious. Still, she thanked him for the warning, should she come across them together at least she wouldn’t be surprised.

 ⧫⧫⧫

There was another week of only seeing each other in the wee hours before both Ezra and the keeper had a shared day off.

He offered to come with her into town and help carry things. Mostly he just wanted her to show him around which she knew but she agreed anyway.

The sun showed itself as they walked together warming their skin. He watched the keeper raise her head to bask in it, smiling as she tried to explain what she needed from town with him interrupting after every item to ask questions.

She was glowing and it was starting to affect Ezra. Her skirt was pinned up a little above her ankles so it didn't dip in the sand and she'd forgone her usual headscarf and shawl to enjoy the sun. She had laughed at him as they'd left, at all his layers, called him a southern pansy. He'd grinned "Not everyone is so accustomed to this frigid weather. The cold bites those who it has not made an acquaintance with. Not unlike a wary dog."

"If you stayed a few winters here and swam in the North Sea you'd end up as hardy as any of us I reckon" he'd just smirked.

 ⧫⧫⧫

The keeper decided Ezra spoke just the way he did just to confuse people. Every time she’d asked him what a word meant he had grinned, but he did explain without condescension. He had spent nearly an hour chatting away to the grocer when she’d gone to the butcher and the baker. Upon asking, it turned out he had been trying to find a fruit he was fond of, but all the frills in his speech had led to a debate between the owners about what he had meant which he had then stayed quiet during just for enjoyment. When she had gone back to find him he was grinning ear to ear as the two men bickered. She had suppressed a laugh and sorted it out quickly before they had gotten even more irked by the outsider. Ezra had seen the laugh in her eyes though.

The final stop was the bookshop. A small place, stacked floor to ceiling and owned by the keeper’s oldest friend. She was sitting outside in the sun and jumped up wrapping the keeper in a warm hug. 

"Lass you work too fucking hard. I haven't seen hide nor hair of you in Christ knows how long!" 

She grinned; the first time Ezra had seen it. He should make her grin more.

"Aye I'm starting to agree, how're the bairns at this rate they'll have grown a foot before I can see them again. Oh, shit sorry.” She gestured to him “This is my lodger Ezra, Ezra this is Amelia."

He wonders vaguely if everyone the keeper knows can give looks that pierce the soul. He gives the shopkeeper a nod and her face breaks into a smile. As they headed into the shop, clouds began to gather overhead.

"Come on pet, I've got something new I just know you'll love."

The shop seemed ready to burst at the seams. Ezra paroused but couldn’t stop himself listening into their conversation.

“How have you been, really? I worry about you all alone up there.” Amelia asked her eyes full of concern. Ezra subtly rounded a bookshelf so he wouldn’t seem nosey.

“I… Well I’ve been worse like. Every day is easier and I’m not alone at the moment as you’ve seen.”

“You seem to collect sailors, you.”

The keeper laughed “I just like the company! And I like being alone the rest of the time as you well know.”

“Oh aye the company. Nothing to do with,” Amelia lowered her voice “I divn’t nah… the roguishly good looks? You always loved a bit of trouble, dafty that you are”

“Hey! He just rents the room, we’re… friends I guess.” Ezra wished he could see her to gage how she really felt.

“Sure you pet.”

 ⧫⧫⧫

20 minutes later they left, a copy of Great Expectations wrapped carefully in tissue paper and stowed at the bottom of her bag, surrounded so it would stay dry should it rain. As they stepped out a woman seized the keeper's arm, she was accompanied by the vicar and glaring viciously. The keeper swallowed and introduced Ezra, he saw how uncomfortable she was, how her mood had changed since just minutes before.

"The ever elusive keeper shows herself yet again" the vicar speaks, face impassive, "I thought you might have died since you don't attend church, perhaps you'd met god's reckoning after… being so loose with your commitments." 

Ezra watches her jaw clench "I have told you before, when I work the night, I cannot attend in the morning."

The other women smirked "Work the night is one way of putting it." She eyed Ezra.

The vicar sighed "It is disappointing you disobey god's will. Your father should have married you off while he had the chance. Then your husband would keep you in line. If he could see you now, he'd be so ashamed"

Ezra froze but before he could react, he saw the rage pass over her face, fiery and passionate. She couldn't help it, she saw red, couldn't stop herself. She punched the vicar square on the nose.

The other woman shrieked. "What is wrong with you? You've hurt him!" Indeed, blood did start to drip out of his nose but he straightened himself up and grabbed the keepers arm pulling her close and raising his fist to strike.

"You're nothing but a worthless little whore. It's no wonder your sailor left as soon as you-" he was cut off by Ezra's fist, catching his jaw and sending him sprawling.

"I will not abide you speaking to the lady in this manner." He shook out his hand, and stepped over him, bending to seize his hair and pressing his blade to his neck "And to strike her?" He scowled down at the man who was opening and shutting his mouth like a fish. "What is that mantra you holy men spout? Turn the other cheek." The keeper's jaw dropped, she had known Ezra was rough around the edges but to strike a man of God, to threaten him, for her?

Against the incoming storm, it was as if he'd grown. Become huge and monstrous and brutal in a way she hadn't seen, a glimpse of what lay beneath all his beautiful words and pleasant disposition. It moved something in the keeper, something dangerous. Not many people would far defend her, let alone in such a way. 

Lightning flashed overhead forking down to meet the sea, in the light she could see the hard glint in his eye, the one he'd worn when they'd first met, even as he smiled. This was a man who had done far worse and all she could feel was grateful. It squeezed around her heart.

"I suspected as much. You must have forgotten yourself for a moment." Ezra stood and pulled the vicar to his feet, squeezing his arm harshly still baring that viscous grin as he pulled him close and murmured "I'd truly hate for you to suffer another grievous lapse in judgement, who knows what may become of you."

The keeper looked at the other woman "Judge not lest ye be judged? You had better pray for forgiveness.” She stepped forwards shoulders back as thunder rumbled around them “There's a storm coming and your husband works the water. I'd hate for the lord to compel me to make an error." The woman gasped at her a cold glare. Ezra looked at the keeper as she straightened out her dress. He could have laughed at her nonchalance, it gave him pause, how he saw her quiet power. She would make quite the foe. She gave Ezra a nod and he took her arm as they walked away.

He can feel how tense she was through her arm, despite her calm demeanour panic and anxiety were coming off her in waves. They walked back along the beach in silence as the heavens opened, pouring rain down around them. Ezra frowned to himself, perhaps with all the flitting around he had forgotten how to behave. Had lost some of himself, every old sin chipping away at his humanity was taking its toll. He'd come here for some fucking quiet, why did he always find trouble, or make it? Perhaps those years… he wasn't good. Punching a priest though? The keeper was a menace.

Half way he stopped turning her to look at him.

"Why didn't you tell me you were married?" she looked away from him at the waves. White horses were being blown, throwing spray up into the air.

"I never was. He left before we could."

The rain beating down made it hard to look up at him, it dripped into her eyes and ran down her face like tears. The rain and thunder were near deafening as he looked at her face, saw the pain and the other emotion, the one he can't identify.

"What happened?" He nearly has to shout to be heard over the storm and the waves. Reaching for her, taking her hand and feeling the calluses on her fingers.

"What always happens! I fell in love, and I thought he did too. But after, after we. He did what sailors always do." she threw off his hand and stepped back, the sea lapping at her ankles.

"What is it sailors always do? I do not appreciate you painting us all with such broad strokes." Now he's shouting, a bit out of frustration but mostly to be heard as the wind begins to howl, merging sea spray and rain until the only thing he could see was her.

"He sailed away!" She was suddenly very grateful for the rain; he couldn't see the tears that had rolled down her face. He frowned at her a deep furrow in his brow. "And so, he's right! I am a whore and probably everything else too." She looked wild, wind whipping her skirt to and fro. She glared at him, daring him to judge her. "I was relieved! I didn't want to marry him, he wanted to leave and I didn't. I enjoyed what we did!" She pressed her palm to her forehead. No idea how he would react. "He could’ve said goodbye" she whispered it, let the crash of the waves muffle the sound.

To her surprise he tugged her hand away from her face, looking into her eyes, jaw set, rain plastering his hair to his head.

"Let's go home."

Keeping her hand gently clasped in his he led her along the beach to the island.

 ⧫⧫⧫

Both of them were soaked to the bone by the time they had re-entered the cottage. Ezra could feel the keepers hand trembling in his.

"Go change out of that wet garb, I'll light the blaze in the living room and set the water to boil"

She nodded and entered her room as he did his own. He quickly pulled off his wet clothes and tugged on a fresh shirt surprised to hear her call out to him.

"Ezra, can you help me?"

He entered her room slowly, still only in his long shirt, taking it in. The bed was wide enough for two and had as many blankets as his own, there was a small wardrobe and a chest and a stack of books on a bedside table. On top of which he saw the glass he'd given her, not yet added to the chime in the window.

She was in her corset and chemise, back to him, dripping onto the rag-rug on the floor.

"I can't seem to," she was reaching behind herself. "With it wet and my damn swollen knuckles I can't loosen the tie. Please, can you help?"

He swallowed thickly as she looked back at him then away. Gently he reached for her, big hands and nimble fingers beginning to loosen the knot. "I'll take a look at that hand if you would allow me, check you haven't done any tangible damage." She nodded.

As he finished, he couldn't help brushing his fingers across the bare skin of her shoulder. It was soft and warm under his cold fingers. She stiffened slightly and turned to him, looking up at his face. His frown remained but that steely glint was gone, giving way to wide sad eyes. She looked at his hands, big, strong and bruised. She took one in her own, inspecting the cut across his knuckles.

"You needn't hurt yourself in defence of me, I shouldn't have hit him." She gently rubbed her thumb over the swelling to check her hadn't dislocated anything and tried to ignore how he tensed.

"I could not abide his hurting you, not with his words and certainly not with his fist" he turned her hand mirroring her gesture to feel her knuckles, they were swollen but nothing felt out of place. He kept a hold of her hand as he looked back up at her face.

She looked into his eyes, deep and dark enough to fall into. They stared back into hers without hesitation. She held his hand for just a moment longer before letting go. As she did, he turned and left, closing the door gently behind him.

He didn't give her the chance to thank him.

 ⧫⧫⧫

When she had dressed and headed down stairs, Ezra was pouring tea, he looked up. She was still dishevelled and shivering a little.

"Come on, let's get warmed up"

He led her through to the living room and sat her down on the rug in front of the fire handing her a cup of tea. Sitting down across from her he spoke, his legs brushed hers as he stretched out but he didn’t move away.

"What I cannot apprehend is why you don't want to depart this glacial place. You are not treated compassionately and there are locations all over with preferable climates."

She gave a small smile. "Because I like it here, it isn't perfect but I have my friends and my work and my home and where would I go? How well do you think the world would treat a woman like me?"

He shrugged, "People may surprise you. They have me on many occasions. I even astonish myself sometimes"

"Or they'll behave exactly as they always do. People are predictable like that." She sighed and sipped her tea. The warmth of the fire finally took an effect. "It seems we are at an imbalance. You know plenty about me, although not because I wanted you to. How about you tell me where you got that accent?"

He grinned. "I suppose I can reveal a little information. If only for the sake of equality."

So, he told her. Told her about his home, his mother, about when she passed. How he had to work to survive and found that he didn't get seasick. He picked up words and dialect wherever he went, combining them with his own until he wasn't sure what he used to sound like. She had laughed at him upon learning he wasn't a strong swimmer. 

"I can't believe you haven't been thrown overboard and drowned yet! You're unbelievably lucky!" He'd loved the sound.

He missed out a lot of the more unsavoury details of the work he’d done but the whitewashed version was honest enough. How going back to where he grew up still hurt, he had only visited once. Instead, he travelled, worked, and enjoyed himself.

"I don't know. You said I must be lonely here but you, you travel alone. You can't make good friends, you've no home to return to." She watched his face. "It seems you're far more alone than I am"

His brow furrowed "We can agree to disagree on that."

"And I still don't understand why you're here. Why aren't you somewhere warm?"

He shrugged and avoided the question, "If I wasn't, I would not have had the astounding pleasure of meeting you."

She frowned at how he ignored her question, but brushed it off.

The rain was finally beginning to ease as Ezra dozed off. Sitting on the floor slumped against the chair by the fire. He looked peaceful, no shadows playing behind his eyes, so she didn't wake him. Instead as the sun dipped, she laid a blanket over him and went to light the light.

The winds had made for a tense shift. Always keeping a weather eye on the sea for ships that might have got into trouble but eventually the sun rose and she stopped the clockwork and went back to the cottage.

Ezra had already left to get to The Mistress and she was surprised at the slight sting that they hadn't got to say goodbye. Next time she'll wake him.

She was even more surprised by how much she missed his company.

~~~~~~~~

Glossary

Hand over fist: Going forth rapidly in an endeavour, comes from ‘hand over hand’ when climbing the rigging.

Bairns: Kids, affectionate

Divn’t nah: Don’t know, couldn’t not include this

Dafty: fool, idiot, affectionate

~~~~~~~~

Taglist

Ezra

@fandom-blackhole

WTS

@something-tofightfor

Because I crave validation

@danniburgh

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #28

Warning: I'm absolutely not sure I need one, but better safe than sorry. Mention of a slightly NSFW joke, blink and you'll miss it.

A/N: Julian Bennett belongs to the wonderful @slytherindisaster

Word Count: ~ 4.600

_______________________________________________

Chapter 28: No Heartache, No Distraction

“I forgot again, how do you harvest Dittany leaves?”

Skye scowled at her textbook as she flicked through the pages in search for an answer. Her frown deepened when she reached the end of the chapter without finding a satisfying conclusion and repeated the process for probably the fourth time by now. Her hair was tousled from the many times she had run her hands through it in frustration, little strands of the blue section sticking out from the braid pinned across her forehead.

She was looking as exhausted as Lizzie was feeling. It was almost the end of May and the term had slowly but surely entered its final stretch. With the O.W.L.s breathing down their necks, Lizzie and Skye had found themselves in the library more often than ever before.

Lizzie didn’t mind concentrating on studying for what felt like the first time this year; besides from it being more than necessary by now, it was an effective way to take her mind off the final match against Gryffindor that was scheduled for the next week.

Her insides were already churning with anxiety at the thought of what was at stake, but she wasn’t the only one on edge; the whole student body seemed tense, the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors in particular. Neither House had won the Cup in a few years and both were eager to end their streak of bad luck. Even Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout, who were known to be great friends, were feeling the building tension, only exchanging a minimum of polite words during mealtime.

Over the years, Lizzie had found several ways of dealing with her pre-match anxiety, her favourite one being keeping her mind busy by spending time around her friends. This year, however, she didn’t have that many people left to hang out with.

Although a good few weeks had passed since the match against Slytherin and its eventful aftermaths, the atmosphere between Lizzie and her friends was still as tense as before.

Contrary to what she had thought, Charlie hadn’t wanted to speak with her when she had tried to apologise on the same evening of their fight. She had tried to catch him a second time the next day, only to be informed by Julian that Charlie had made it very clear that he had no desire whatsoever to talk to her anytime soon.

“I believe his exact words were ‘She can bugger off’ but you know how he is,” he had told her sympathetically, “give him some space and he will get over it eventually.”

But as of today, she was still waiting for any sign of readiness for peace from his part. Lizzie regretted her rash words and wanted nothing more than to apologise for them; but if Charlie was still too hurt to listen to her, she had to accept it, albeit begrudgingly.

Where Lizzie knew what she would tell Charlie if he only agreed to speak to her, it was exactly the other way round with Rowan.

When Lizzie had told her about the outcome of her decision, it had been clear to see that it was not what Rowan had expected. Although she had immediately tried to hide it, there was no denying the surprise flickering across her face.

Both of them had tried to make peace with one another and continue with their friendship as if nothing had happened. They had always been able to talk to each other openly, but now, neither girl knew how to approach the other.

Lizzie told herself time and time again that they only needed some time to heal before they could go back to normal, but there was this nagging voice in the back of her mind that kept getting louder and louder every time Lizzie felt more relieved than anything else when Rowan left her to herself. Maybe all the things that had gone wrong between them were too many; maybe, there was no going back for them.

Lizzie could tell she wasn’t the only one unhappy with the situation. Penny was always troubled when there was fighting within her immediate group of friends; she couldn’t stand the uncomfortable silence when they all met up in their dorm at night. Usually, they would all recount their days, laugh and joke and gossip about what had happened, with Penny being the happy centre of it all.

Nowadays, no one was speaking and if so only in hushed voices. Lizzie and Skye kept mostly to themselves, Tonks was out more often than not and Rowan was so concentrated on her textbooks she now carried with her all of the time, that Penny often sat alone on her bed, brushing out her braids with a sad expression on her pretty face.

The whole situation was draining Lizzie of all her energy. She was sleeping uneasily and was having trouble concentrating in class, much to the dismay of her teachers.

Not even Quidditch practise brought her much joy anymore. She tried her best to pull herself together and play well, but she knew her performance had taken a dive. Neither she nor Orion knew how to act around the other; when they were playing, it somehow worked after a fashion, but beside that, Lizzie couldn’t even look at him without feeling guilty and ashamed all over again.

The only one of her friends she found easy to be around these days was Skye. Although Skye’s fears had been confirmed when their team dynamics had gone south yet again, she had stuck with Lizzie without even questioning it; Lizzie had never been so grateful for Skye’s total disregard of anyone else’s opinions before.

Skye wasn’t Lizzie’s favourite study partner by a long shot, but she would have preferred her to Rowan any time these days; her constant complaining about the massive workload the teachers were piling upon them, didn’t help Lizzie’s lacking concentration, however.

Thankfully, the library was currently deserted, with them and Madam Pince being the only exception. The afternoon classes were still taking place and the fifth-years had gathered on the training grounds with Madam Hooch for flying lessons. Not considered mandatory for the members of the House teams, Lizzie and Skye had excused themselves from class to catch up on their increasing pile of homework.

They had been brooding on an essay for Professor Sprout about the different healing properties of Dittany for the past hour; Lizzie hated to admit it but her progress was bordering on pathetic. Her scroll was still more empty than not and try as she might, her concentration was constantly slipping.

She couldn’t help the thought that Orion would certainly know exactly how to answer all of the required questions; with a sigh, she dipped her quill into the inkwell she and Skye were sharing and started writing again.

Skye didn’t even look up from her textbook when she broke Lizzie out of her thoughts again only moments later.

“You’re doing it again, Jameson.” Her tone was mildly impatient while she flicked through the pages of her book.

“What?”

Raising her eyes for a second, Skye only nodded towards her parchment for an answer.

After a few words, Lizzie’s thoughts had started wandering again and so had the tip of her quill, drawing tiny swirls and circles on the edge of the scroll. Looking at the bits she had written so far, similar drawings could be found on the edge of her essay in regular intervals.

“Oh,” was the only thing she said before she stopped it. Even if she managed to complete her assignment, she would have to copy the whole thing before handing it in.

With a resounding smack, Skye closed her book and looked at her friend reproachfully. “We agreed on something. No heartache, no distraction; just focus.”

She gestured vaguely at Lizzie’s sorry excuse of an essay, “And that doesn’t look like focusing to me.”

“Come on, give me some credit for trying,” Lizzie pouted. “It’s just that I’m so distracted these days; especially doing Herbology,” she sighed wistfully, thinking about the countless hours of tutoring she had spent with Orion in the greenhouses. Lizzie knew she was acting like a ridiculous, lovesick girl but she couldn’t help it; she missed him like crazy.

Skye was slouching back in her chair as she shook her head at Lizzie’s whining, “I really hate that depressive state of yours. Where’s your fire gone, mate?”

“I can’t help it,” Lizzie flicked her ponytail back over her shoulder with an irritated motion. She felt a little annoyed at Skye calling her out, but more about the fact that she was right than anything else. “Everything is so awkward now, you’ve seen it yourself at practise. I can’t even look Orion in the face and half the time I don’t know if Everett wants to knock him off his broom or if his aim has gotten even worse than before.”

At the mention of their disliked teammate Skye rolled her eyes. “That bloody idiot.”

“Exactly,” Lizzie agreed. “And that’s not the only thing. Given that I called it quits on everything that could have been with Orion for her, you’d think Rowan would act a bit more warmly but no, not at all; you can literally see how glad she is every time we’re leaving her and Penny alone. And don’t even get me started on Charlie.” Her face darkened and she angrily threw her quill away out of frustration. “Did I forget anything?”

Skye had let her rant without interrupting; now, she tilted her head to the side and watched her for a moment. “You know, there is one other thing I’ve noticed.”

“What?”

Skye drew a deep breath, as if collecting herself. “I have come to a conclusion, but I’m not sure you want to hear it.”

“Out with it, Parkin,” Lizzie urged her on. Her brow had furrowed at Skye’s hemming and hawing; somehow, she didn’t like the sound of this.

When Skye reached out and covered Lizzie’s hand with a solemn expression, Lizzie felt the colour drain from her face. “After all these years of being friends, I can’t deny it any longer,” she squeezed Lizzie’s hand and dropped her eyes to the table, “I can’t believe I’m saying this…”

Lizzie’s eyes widened in shock; afraid of Skye’s next words, she held her breath in fearful anticipation when Skye suddenly raised her eyes again to meet hers, sparkling with suppressed laughter as a wide grin spread on her face.

“… but even if you’re all fuzzy in the head right now, your notes are way superior to mine; let me copy that, will you?”

Now fully laughing at Lizzie’s baffled face, she reached for the half-finished essay. Relief washed over Lizzie when she realised she’d fallen for Skye’s joke; her cheeks blushing bright red, she playfully swatted Skye’s hand away from her work.

“Do you think you’re funny or what, Parkin?”

Skye simply shrugged, her grin still plastered onto her face. “Actually, I do; you should’ve seen your face.” She pulled an exaggerated face mimicking Lizzie’s flabbergasted look from before, coaxing a laugh from her friend. “Sorry to disappoint you, Jameson, but you’re not my type; I prefer blondes.”

Lizzie couldn’t help but roll her eyes, but the smile was lingering on her face. She had been so miserable the past few weeks, smiling at Skye’s horrendous jokes felt almost foreign to her.

“On a more serious note,” Skye picked the conversation up again, “constantly butting heads with as many people as I do does have its perks, you know.”

“I wonder what those would be?” Lizzie remarked wryly.

But Skye wasn’t deterred from her point. “I know how to properly apologise; want to hear my advice?”

Lizzie considered Skye for a moment, trying to determine whether she was still joking or not; but Skye looked deadly serious at her offer. Rubbing her temples with her fingers, Lizzie nodded finally. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but go on.”

“Let’s make one thing clear first,” Skye declared and held up her index finger, “I’m not a fan of Weasley and I disapprove of fraternising with the enemy. However,” she added quickly as she saw Lizzie’s face darken, “I know he’s important to you, so I’ll let it pass.”

“Well, thanks a lot,” Lizzie mumbled, followed by another eyeroll.

“Want my help or not?” Skye grumbled and Lizzie shut her mouth again. “He’s mad and won’t talk to you, so you have to find a way to make him see you’re sorry. I’d say go and show him some sign of good will. Remember when we were fighting back in the days, when you were getting a bit too friendly with Rath?”

As if Lizzie could have forgotten that; it had been their first real fight and the worst one as well. “Of course I do; you organised tickets for a Catapults match afterwards, it was amazing.”

“Exactly; I knew you liked the Catapults – for whatever reason – and it worked like a charm.”

Lizzie raised her eyebrows sceptically. “But you also apologised for being a brat and saw reason,” she conceded dryly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, that’s not the important part right now. What I wanted to say is, do something nice for Weasley and I’m sure he’ll be much more willing to talk things out with you.”

Thinking about Skye’s words for a moment, Lizzie couldn’t deny that Skye’s method had worked on her in the past; maybe it was worth a shot. She had nothing to lose anyway.

“Okay, you genius, maybe you’re right. Any idea how I get Rowan to be normal again as well?”

“Of course I am right, Jameson. Told you, I’m good at apologising.” Now it was Skye’s turn to roll her eyes. “As for Rowan; if you ask me, she’s acting super childish, but whatever. You did everything she wanted, now it’s her turn to make an effort. I’d say, just act as normal as the two of you get; worked for Penny and me as well.”

Lizzie only hummed in response. It was true, Penny’s and Skye’s friendship had normalised again; but the starting situation between them had been a very different one. On the other hand, Skye had a point; Lizzie had met Rowan’s terms for reconciliation; it would take both of them to fix their friendship, not only her.

“You got any advice on Orion as well?” Lizzie asked quietly.

Skye raised her hands defensively and shook her head. “Blimey, I’m absolutely no expert in that field. I’d suggest you go to Penny for that; or Murphy for all I care. I bet he’d have some statistics to share with you.”

Laughing at the thought, Skye got up and stretched her arms. “Anyway, look at me getting all wise and reasonable, I’m almost getting scared by myself; let’s get out of here.”

Lizzie pointed at their half-finished assignments. “We’re not done yet.”

“No, but Flying lessons are bound to be over soon and I want to get a run in before places are getting crowded again; wouldn’t hurt you too, you know. Running helps getting your mind off things.”

She looked around at the old, dusty bookshelves towering around them. “You can only get depressed in a gloomy place like this.”

*

Skye had been right; after she and Lizzie had gotten changed into something more suitable for running and stepped outside into the blinding summer sun, Lizzie felt her mood lift almost instantly.

They were going at a good and demanding pace, each spurning the other on when they began to slow. The combination of sunlight, fresh air and the pounding rhythm of their steps was clearing Lizzie’s head and she felt a good bit of her energy returning to her.

Under normal circumstances, the Hufflepuff team would have exercised together to get into proper shape for the upcoming Quidditch final. The circumstances were anything but normal, however, and Orion hadn’t been in the spirits for extensive group training exceeding their official practise times.

So Skye and Lizzie had taken up running as a compensation for the many hours they were spending hunched over their notes and textbooks. Both being more on the competitive side, their workouts never failed to wear Lizzie’s mind and body out in the best way possible; it was one of the only things that helped her fall asleep these days.

They were racing along the path leading towards the Black Lake, which was glittering brightly in the sunlight. When they had reached the shore, Skye slowed her pace to a moderate jog, allowing both of them to catch their breaths.

Running while the rest of the school was still stuck in their classrooms had been a good decision; before long, the shoreline would be swarmed by students enjoying the warm weather. But now, the scenery was remarkably empty, allowing them to run next to each other without having to dodge picnic blankets, school bags or the odd Fanged Frisbee.

“Now, look who it is.”

Skye had slowed even further, now coming to a halt in the shadow of a tree. Lizzie joined her and dipped her head back, eagerly gulping down deep breaths into her burning lungs. After her heartbeat started normalising, she followed Skye’s gaze.

A good bit ahead of them Orion and Murphy were sitting in the shade of a willow tree overhanging the shore. At least, Murphy was sitting; he was bent deeply over one of his playbooks, scribbling something into it before crossing it out and starting over again.

Orion, on the other hand, was taking his own spin on preparing for their match. One of his favourite ways of exercising besides broom balancing had always been doing yoga; he had even tried to implement it into their practise routine a few years ago, until Skye had threatened him with open mutiny.

At present, he was balancing in some sort of handstand, his weight resting on his underarms. His hair was falling into his face, but Lizzie knew his eyes were closed in concentration to keep his pose and balance. Every time he wavered, she could see the exposed muscles of his arms tensing ever so slightly to keep himself upright. Being upside down, his white shirt had slipped downwards, revealing the bronzed skin of his toned stomach.

Suddenly feeling light-headed, Lizzie turned away, only to face Skye watching her with a smug expression. The blush on Lizzie’s face didn’t only stem from running in the heat of the afternoon sun anymore.

“Yeah, I heard Flitwick was ill today, they probably got some time off.” She leaned on Lizzie’s shoulder grinning like a Cheshire cat at the flustered state of her friend. “Want to go over?”

The warmth that had spread in Lizzie’s stomach despite her best efforts died down as quickly as it had appeared. Her eyes dropping to the ground, Lizzie quietly shook her head.

She staggered a bit to the side as Skye’s weight suddenly left her shoulder. Her friend was looking at her sympathetically. “Oh man, no, that’s not what I wanted; don’t go looking all sad again. Remember what we said, no –“

“No heartache, no distraction,” Lizzie finished what had somehow become her own personal mantra. “I know.”

But she couldn’t help the wistful sigh that escaped her as she surreptitiously glanced over at Orion one more time. Luckily, neither of the boys seemed to have noticed them so far.

She was brought back to her senses by Skye snapping her fingers in front of her face. “Stop the pining, Jameson, that won’t help you get over this.” Her voice turned softer when she added, “For what it’s worth, I think you guys would’ve made a smashing couple after all.”

Lizzie took a moment to answer, as she thought about what might have been for a second. “Maybe, but it’s not going to happen now,” she muttered defeatedly. “Besides, I thought that went against team philosophy.”

“It does,” Skye confirmed, “but still, would’ve been better than how it is now. Quidditch used to be a lot more fun when you and him were talking to each other.”

Her eyes suddenly flashed with determination and she started moving away from Lizzie. “You know what? Screw Rowan, I’m going to do something about this.”

It was only thanks to her reflexes that Lizzie managed to catch her elbow before Skye was out of her reach. “No, you are absolutely not,” she hissed. “Stay out of this, Parkin!”

She waited until Skye had abandoned her attempt to march over to their friends before she added, “And besides, what Orion’s doing is actually pretty difficult, I don’t want you to ruin his concentration.”

Skye watched him sceptically. “You sure? He’s looking pretty relaxed to me.”

“He always does but believe me, it is hard. He showed me how to do it once and let me tell you, I didn’t know my body could hurt that much; he positively wrecked me.”

Skye guffawed at her words. “He wrecked you, huh?” she snickered. “Is there more to the story than what you told me?”

Realising what she had said, Lizzie felt herself blushing furiously. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Skye Parkin!” she cried, but not without a laugh ringing in her voice. “That’s not what I meant and you know it!”

But Skye was working herself into a laughing fit and Lizzie felt a grin spread on her own face as well. She shoved Skye playfully, who was doubling over from laughter by now. It resulted in Syke falling to the ground, which made Lizzie burst into laughter herself.

Before long, both girls were crying tears of laughter, not even laughing at Skye’s joke anymore but simply for the sake of it. Lizzie was so distracted by her hurting cheeks and stinging sides, that she didn’t notice Skye stealthily moving closer to the water; she dipped her hand into the icy cold water of the lake, splashing a good load of it into Lizzie’s face.

Lizzie screeched when the water hit her face, making Skye cackle even harder, but Lizzie was having none of it.

“That means war, Parkin!” she exclaimed, trying to tackle her friend down into the grass.

But Skye was already up and running again, with Lizzie hot on her heels. “Only if you catch me, Jameson!”

*

Contrary to what Lizzie believed, Orion and Murphy had, in fact, noticed Lizzie and Skye. Their voices drifted over to them, too far away to make out what exactly they were saying, but the familiar sound was tugging at Orion’s concentration.

He felt both his physical and mental balance slip and breathed deeply, trying to block out his thoughts by concentrating on staying balanced on his underarms. His fingers dug into the cool grass and his brow furrowed from the prolonged effort of supporting his body with the strength of his shoulders alone.

Focusing on the stinging in his muscles, he embraced the pain before letting it go with a slow breath; his wavering body became still again as he returned to his peaceful headspace.

Murphy had seen the girls as well. Orion could hear him closing his playbook, followed by the rustling of his clothes as he leaned his back against the trunk of the tree.

“Skye and Lizzie seem to take your directive of preparing for the finals seriously,” he glanced at Orion, who was still frozen in the same position he had been in for quite some time now. “Counting you doing whatever the hell you’re doing there, at least 42.86 % of your team is increasing their physical fitness on a regular basis.”

Orion only hummed noncommittally in response; he wasn’t in the mood for talking.

But he wasn’t surprised to find Murphy happily ignoring his silence. “Gryffindor is the fastest team out of the four by a whopping 24.7 % on average. The only thing to raise your stakes is improving your technical features and come up with a flawless strategy, which I am working upon; theoretically, that is,” he added quickly, “I am, after all, impartial.”

Murphy’s chatter had it for his concentration. With a sigh Orion let his feet slowly fall back to the ground and sat upright with his legs crossed beneath him. He waited a moment to let his head adjust to his shift in position before he opened his eyes.

Lizzie and Skye were standing in the shadow of a tree, probably taking a moment to cool down from the summer heat. Orion noticed the blond streaks running through Lizzie’s usually honey brown hair, where the sun had lightened it over the last few weeks. It had grown longer again, her beloved ponytail reaching down between her shoulder blades. The lighter hair contrasted beautifully with her tanned skin, bronzed from the countless hours he knew Lizzie was spending outside. All the running and practising had toned her body even more than it had been anyway and her face was flushed from the fast pace she and Skye had been going at.

With a sigh, Orion closed his eyes again, letting the butterflies rising up in his stomach subside. Thinking about her in that way was no use; it held nothing but distraction for him.

Lizzie had barely been talking to anyone but Skye for weeks now. Although she still sat with her friends during their meals, Orion could see that she wasn’t happy.

Her energy had the power to light up a whole room, drawing everyone into her orbit, whether they wanted or not. Nowadays, her fire seemed dimmed, her shoulders constantly slumped and her beautiful smile had become a rare sight.

Orion was a firm believer that everything in life was balanced; for every good, there was a bad, a low for every high, a pattern continuously repeating itself in an eternal cycle.

But lately, he had been wondering how long this particular low after the short high he and Lizzie had experienced together would last. He was worried about her, and not only because of their final match being almost on their doorstep.

For the first time since he’d known her, she didn’t seem to have her heart with her on the pitch. It was apparent that she was trying hard to perform well, but he could see how much she was struggling. There was nothing Orion wanted more than to help her regain the fire he admired so much, but he didn’t know how to go about it..

The sound of laughter drifted over to them and before Orion could do anything about it, all the emotions he had tried to let go of earlier were there again, bubbling under his skin even stronger than before. Hearing Lizzie laugh was a rare sound these days and a pleasant shiver ran down his spine. He couldn’t help his lips curving into a smile of his own.

“It’s good to hear her laughing again,” Murphy noted quietly. Apparently, Orion wasn’t the only one worried about Lizzie’s state of mind.

“It is,” Orion agreed, his eyes still closed while he tried to find his breathing pattern again.

“The chances of her being in the right state of mind in time for your last match stand at 48.5 % to 51.5 %.”

Orion opened his eyes and raised his eyebrows in McNully’s direction. “Don’t you think that’s rather vague?”

Murphy let out a cheerful laugh. “Well, if there’s one thing hard to predict, I’d reckon it’s girls.”

Orion chuckled along with him as he finally stretched his arms before letting himself fall back into the grass.

“For once, my friend, I can say that I wholeheartedly agree with you.”

[jaejena]

dream glow. — h, renjun.

My dream is to stay I won’t give up You’ll glow.

— now playing : dream glow by bts and charli xcx.

— genre : angst, fluff heavily relying on undertones. — warning(s) : y/n’s heart was played (not by renjun), swearing. wrote this while sleep deprived, weeeee. — word count : 1.2 k.

You wanted the ground to collapse beneath you. You wanted to do so many things. Scream, cry out, thrash everything in your way.

But you darted off with your tail between your legs instead, a horrified Renjun by your side. He’d seen it all happen in front of him too. 

So here you were, back at your home and buried underneath the comforter you’ve pulled over yourself. A stupid child hiding away from the world, their naïveté looked down upon.

You’re trying to hold it together. 

You can feel Renjun’s weight hold the mattress down right beside you. He hasn’t left your side since. 

You feel numb as you attempt to block everything out.

This comforter can’t shield you from your humiliation.

Renjun speaks for the first time, his voice as gentle you have ever heard, “Are you okay?”

That damned question.

An involuntary scoff escaped from you. 

“Okay?” Your voice cracks. You strain to talk, a flurry of words rushing out, “Are you kidding me, Renjun? Am I okay—” 

You’re cracking.

You stifle a pathetic sob. “For once..” You began, trying so hard not to wail out. “For once I thought somebody out there genuinely liked me.” You were sorely mistaken.

“I’m not fucking okay.” You irritably snap, struggling to keep your chest from heaving. You bite down on your lip. All that you were suppressing is coming out.

You were a toy to be hidden in fear of the shame you may bring him. One to be tossed away when you knew too much. 

Renjun doesn’t say anything.

You feel like a hindrance, but all you can do is choke on your tears.

You’re lashing out on him too.

You didn’t know what else to say. You shut your eyes tight, clamping out the sting of your tears. They’re going everywhere.

You barely sputter out your congested words, “I’m sorry.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” 

Gentle but assertive.

He doesn’t say anything else, but you can sense him start looking around your room. It’s not long before you feel his weight pull away from beside you.

“Remember when we went to the dollar store months ago?”

You hear one of your cabinets get pulled out. Renjun shuffles about until you hear him pry an item out. His weight returns on the mattress once again, sitting next to you.

You don’t answer, feeling the hot tears sting everywhere on your face. But you do remember.

That day, the two of you brought home a bag of cheap art supplies to ruin. You riddled each other’s faces with smudged, clashing colours of face paint.

You always had fun in the simplest things. 

“I’ve wanted to give it another try lately.” You hear his fingers tap against the plastic case, “I want to give it another whirl on you, if that’s okay.”

But you clutch onto the blanket, ready to bury yourself further down. Your whole face is a swollen mess. You croak out, “I look ugly right now.”

“Please, Y/N?”

You pause. He’s pleading you.

You realize he’s doing his best too, in the way that he’s able to. He’s trying to help.

Then you sigh. You pull the blanket away from you. The cool air hits all over your face against the hot tears clinging to your skin. 

Renjun says nothing as he lays his eyes on you, then shifting his attention to the face paint in his hands. He pops the lid off, taking out the accommodated brushes out of the box. 

You sniff as you attempt to breathe steadily, closing your eyes expectantly. The frown hasn’t been wiped off your face, nor has the tension.

You look absolutely crestfallen. He didn’t know how much he despised seeing you like this and being this helpless by your side.

In spite of that, he forces a smile. More for himself, rather than for you. “Thank you.” He murmurs. 

Renjun ignores the bitter fury burning in him, scooping a navy blue glob onto the bristles of the brush. When he glides it across your cheek, he notes the slip that your tears have given. A streak of blue against your blotched skin has taken place.

His eyes scan your features, carefully mapping out the work to be painted. Yet his mind brings him to places unwanted.

Your head hanging low flashes in his head. The shattered, defeated look you had was burned into his memory. The sight of you holding yourself from breaking down and taking shallow breaths weighs heavy on his heart. You couldn’t look anyone in the eye. 

Crazy how a person so fleeting in both your lives can easily crush someone he’s loved for so long. He’s never seen you like this.

Renjun wasn’t going to forget what he did to you, nor forgive.

There are so many things he wants to say. For someone he treasures, there are so many things he wants to say. 

But they don’t come out. 

He’s frustrated in himself.

Renjun is at a loss and the paintbrush in his hand is the only thing that’s keeping both of you grounded.

You don’t hear Renjun’s shaky breath, nor do you feel how his chest constricts as he swallows a lump forming in his throat. You don’t see the frown on his face that mirrors yours.

He has to stay strong.

He sees that you are now taking steady breaths, soothed by the soft brushstrokes and the cool paint against your skin.

That’s good, he thought.

He lets you slip into slumber, humming quiet melodies to let your exhaustion take you away.

His hands hold you with kindness.

───────────────────────────────

You wake, but your eyes don’t open just yet.

You breathe deeply. In and out.

As you stir, you recall what had lulled you to sleep. Your swollen eyelids crack open, heavy from fatigue. 

Renjun isn’t beside you.

Heaving yourself up, you’re alone in your bedroom in the dark. It must be past midnight.

He’d left to go back home.

Throwing the blanket off you, you swing yourself out of your bed and ignore how much you immediately yearn to go back for warmth. You slowly make your way to the door. You tread into the hallway and to your bathroom, conscious to make light steps. 

When you open the door to the bathroom, you reach for the lights. 

Then you see it.

You see yourself. You see art. A sculpture in which part of its face had cracked off, revealing the universe within it. A proud sculpture in spite of its physical, human flaws. 

Staring into the mirror, the night sky spans across the right side of your face. The stars have made its home in you.

White dots against the dark blue have been carefully stippled across the eyelid, temple, and down to your cheek. Little coloured spheres float among the stars. Renjun decorated you with foreign planets of his imagining. 

The stars spill out beyond the dark sky, dusted onto your natural skin.

You feel a weight lift off your chest as you step closer to the mirror, turning your head to behold his universe on you.

An epiphany in the guise of your friend’s work of art.

Renjun painted a piece of himself onto you before he left your side.

This is how he sees you, the one who’s seen you at your best and at your worst. You’d always known Renjun to veil his affections with banter.

This time, all the things he had left unsaid has been poured and blended into the pigment.

You are loved. You are cherished.

Always have been.

[cheesy09]

Bartender, A Whiskey Please

So here’s another Kiro fic I wrote. I gave a shot (pun intended) at second person narration, and this is how it turned out.

Just so you know, this is incredibly self indulgent and probably incredibly OOC. But hey, I just needed to post this, or else I might’ve gone insane. Oh, it’s also super, super long.

Pairing: Kiro x Reader Word count: 4,108 Genres: Fluff

But without further ado, Enjoy!

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“Ugh, what I would do for a coke and a bag of chips right now…” You groaned as you slumped against the table. The boy behind the counter let out a laugh seeing your exhausted state. He walked up to you and bent down a bit so he was eye level with you. “Not a fan of weddings?” He asked.

You looked up to study him. A handsome face covered with a mop of blonde hair looked back at you, obvious amusement shining in his deep, sea-blue eyes. He didn’t look any older than you, his bartender uniform stretched across a lithe, yet sturdy physique. Your eyes travelled down to read his name tag. ‘Kiro’ it read. Kiro? That was a pretty unusual name. Not that it mattered to you. If he was willing to listen to you, his name could have been Mowgli for all you cared.

“Usually I am. But my entire summer vacation was spent planning for this wedding,” you tucked a few strands behind your ear and sighed. “Plus, these heels are killing me.”

After your second year of university, you had hoped to spend the summer relaxing. Not planning a wedding. From the invitations, to the decorations and the dance lessons, you couldn’t remember when was the last time you had slept soundly. And this past week had been the worst of it. Your sister too was overwhelmed by all of this. But then again, she was bound to be. After all, it was her wedding.

“Shouldn’t girls be used to stuff like that, though?” Kiro asked, cocking his head to the side, as if he was genuinely interested to know.

You shrugged and answered nonchalantly, “Not me. If I had my way, I’d make everyone dress in casuals for my wedding. Ripped jeans, sneakers and all. Mandatory. No exceptions.”

The boy laughed again, still leaning forward on the counter, the sound of it almost infectious. You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips.

“So, um, Kiro…” you purred, causing the blonde to cease his laughter and look at you. You slowly twirled a lock of hair around your forefinger and innocently batted your eyelashes at him. “You don’t mind giving me a glass of that beautiful whiskey I see behind you, do you?”

Kiro turned to look at the bottle that you had been eyeing and then turned back to look at you again, his eyes narrowing as the corner of his mouth tugged up in a smirk. Your breath caught for a second. His smirk shouldn’t be that sexy.

“No can do, Miss Chips. No alcohol for you.”

You gaped at him. “What? Why not? And— Miss Chips? Really? I have a name, you know.”

He shrugged. “I think it’s cute. It fits you.”

You had no answer to that, a stunned expression adorning your features. You couldn’t believe the nerve of this guy! It hadn’t been even five minutes since you two met, and he had already come up with a nickname for you! It was as if the man held complete mastery over the art of flirting. No doubt he’d used it on countless girls before you. Either that, or he was just destructively honest. And yet, you couldn’t ignore the warmth that spread throughout your cheeks, turning them into a light shade of pink. Not wanting him to see you like this, you looked away.

“That’s a dumb nickname,” you muttered. “What, do you flirt with every girl who wants a drink?”

You felt the smile in his voice deepen. “Nope. Just you.”

That made you go even redder.

In your flustered haste, you tried to find a distraction. Something, anything, that would keep you from losing yourself in that penetrating gaze. “Anyway, about that drink…”

“Sorry, Miss Chips, but my answer is still a ‘no,’” he replied. “Orders. Until the guests arrive, no drinks. And even then, no alcohol.”

“Why?” You stared at him in horror. This was inexcusable. Getting wasted was one of the best parts of a wedding. What was the point otherwise?

“We can’t have the maid of honor getting tipsy even before the reception starts, now can we?” Kiro gave you a dorky grin, this time turning around and using his forearms to lean against the counter. He lifted a hand and ran his long, slender fingers through his messy golden locks, making him look absolutely alluring. The sight of his white shirt and waist-coat outlining the tight, sculpted muscles of his body was enticing, making you swallow unknowingly. If only you could run your hands over those biceps, to tangle your fingers in his hair and—

No, stop.

You caught yourself before you could allow your thoughts to go any further, your face heating into a deep shade of scarlet. Since when were you the type to harbor such sinful thoughts about a person you barely knew? Not to mention he was way too cocky for his own good. And yet… there was something about him that you found… irresistible.

Before you could let your mind wander any further though, you heard your name being called by an awfully familiar voice. Namely, it was your mother’s.

“Guess I’ve got to go,” you say, standing up in your painfully high heels. You so regretted not getting an extra pair of footwear to change into later. Note to self, remember to carry a pair of sneakers next time you go for a wedding.

“Well, Miss Chips, if you ever need to talk to someone, I’ll be right here,” Kiro said, giving you an exaggerated, flamboyant bow. “Your Kiro will always be here to relieve you of your stress.”

“My Kiro?” You asked playfully, ignoring the addictive giddiness that was starting to take over you. “And since when did you become mine?”

“Since right now,” he declared, placing his elbows on the counter and flashing you another cute smile, causing giggles to erupt from your mouth. Really, that was the only word to describe him. He was cute. And handsome, apparently. And quirky, and sassy, and sexy and… Okay, so there were many words to describe Kiro.  

No longer in control of your body, you leaned forward with your own teasing smile and hooked your forefinger under his bowtie, pulling him closer, leaving only inches of space between the two of you. “Sure. If I feel the need to unwind, I’ll come find you… my Kiro,” you murmured seductively, your heart hammering in your chest. You watched how his cheeks flushed indistinctly, and his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, savouring every inch of his immaculate face.

Then, as if giving into temptation his eyelids drooped a bit, and his body leaned even further, slowly closing the gap between you. “Yours and yours alone, Miss Chips…” Kiro whispered, a flame of desire mixed with his low, magnetic voice, his hot breath ghosting over your lips, his fingers across the counter slowly twining with yours…

…And just before your lips could brush against each other, your mother’s voice cut through the blistering air, causing both of you to pull back from each other.

“I’ll see you later then,” you smiled at him apologetically, silently cursing your mom for ruining the moment. You began walking away before the atmosphere could turn awkward when you heard Kiro’s voice call after you.

“Oh, Miss Chips? Just wanted to say—you look absolutely stunning today!”

You laughed, detecting the dramatics behind his voice, and waving your hand behind your back you walked away from the bar.

  ───※ ·❆· ※─── ───※ ·❆· ※───                                                         

The party was in full swing well into the night, lights bright, guests scattered all across the venue, and the music from the live band filling the air. It had been almost two hours since the party started, but from the time it began, you never seemed to get a chance to just let loose and have fun. First, you had to take part in the wedding march, then you had to go around greeting all the guests, and as if that wasn’t enough, your mother made you go check on the kitchen as well. As the night continued to wear out, you were starting to grow more and more impatient.

That was until the band started playing some pop numbers that you loved and that was enough to drive you over the edge.

You took to the dance floor ignoring your aching feet and lost yourself into the music along with some other youngsters. You swayed your hips to the beat, the backless grey dress that hugged your curves in all the right places making your movements look seductive. You could feel dozens of pairs of eyes on you, and your gaze aimlessly wandered to the drink bar where Kiro was standing.

His eyes were on you, drinking in each and every one of your movements. A young boy was trying to get his attention, probably wanting to order a drink, but he seemed to be too occupied with your dancing figure, causing the boy to turn the bartender next to him in annoyance. You didn’t know why, but him looking at you made you feel attractive and sexy. You couldn’t get enough of it.

In the midst of his ogling, you managed to catch his gaze, which caused his cheeks to colour and he finally looked away bashfully, busying himself with his work again. You almost laughed aloud at the reaction. Who knew that the boy whose witty mouth could drive you crazy, could also be that cute at the same time?! It just made him even more desirable.

After a while the music changed to a more slower paced song and you exited the dance floor, hot and sweaty from dancing for so long. You made your way towards the bar where Kiro greeted you with a happy grin on his face. “Miss Chips! Nice to see you here again.”

You smiled at the continued use of the nickname he had for you. Quite obvious flirting, but you didn’t mind it. Not one bit.

“Bartender, a whiskey please,” you ordered, leaning your arms against the counter.

Kiro shook his head, chuckling to himself. “Still a ‘no,’ miss. How about some fruit punch instead?”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, whatever. Just give me a drink, mister. I’m parched.”

“Right away, miss.”

Amusement still dancing in his sparkling eyes, Kiro poured you the drink in a glass and served you in a very efficient manner, his motions giving off a sense of practice and familiarity. It piqued your interest, to say the least. You wanted to know more about this beautiful blonde boy who looked like he could be an actor in the movies or a teen model. So far, all you knew were each other’s names, nothing more.

“So Kiro,” you began, taking a sip of your drink, loving the sweet flavor of apple than ran down your throat. “How long have you been working here?”

He thought for a while. “Six months, I guess? Though I do plan on getting a better job soon.”

“Oh… I see…” you said, lowering your head a bit. You couldn’t stop the disappointment that rose in your chest. It was to be expected. It’s not like Kiro could stay here working for long. Besides, would you even be able to see him again even if he did?

Suddenly, an idea flashed through your mind and you looked at him again. You hesitated for a bit. Would he find it weird if you asked him for his number? Would that be too bold?

Before you could voice any of your thoughts though, you felt someone sidle up in the space next to you and heard a deep voice say, “a whiskey, please.”

Kiro nodded and got into work mode again, busying himself with the preparation of the drink. You turned your head to the right, looking at the dark-haired young man who stood way too close for your comfort and moved a few inches away from him. Just as you were about to continue brainstorming ways on asking Kiro for his number though, the guy suddenly turned to you, a casual smile gracing his lips.  

“Hey, you’re the bride’s sister, aren’t you?” He asked, taking a few steps closer to you and almost closing the distance that you had put between yourselves earlier. “My name’s Ryan. I saw you dancing earlier. Looked absolutely gorgeous, and also…” he lowered himself to your ear and a chill ran down your spine when you felt his fingers brush against your bare back “…very sexy.”  

Disgust as well as mortification swelled up in you. You couldn’t believe that this man even had the audacity of approaching you like this. You were about to push this creepy stranger away when you heard someone clearing their throat from behind the counter, sounding very, very unpleased. Kiro stared at the man, placing a whiskey glass down in front of him on the counter. The usual warmth from his eyes had completely vanished, only to be replaced by a bone chilling contempt.

But the man, Ryan, didn’t seem to give him a second thought. Without explanation he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you against him. “So, Beautiful. What do you say to a dance with me? I promise, I’ll show you a nice time,” he proposed, whispering it into your ear.  The smell of alcohol on his breath made you want to throw up as fear gripped you. You thought of protesting and pushing him away when you felt his hand slowly travel down your back and land against your behind.

That was the last straw.

You didn’t even think twice before you acted. You pushed against his chest, taking a step back and effectively separating the two of you. Then, you grabbed your half-finished drink and spilled the contents on his pristine, white suit.

“Don’t you dare. Touch me. Again,” You snarled through your teeth, each word profound and powerful, ignoring the surrounding onlookers who had stopped what they were doing to catch a glimpse of the drama.

After that, you ran. Ran as fast as your heels could take you, not wanting to show the tears brimming in your eyes to Kiro, or anyone else for that matter. But one though still stuck with you as your feet carried you to wherever it wanted you to go, only making you even more upset.

You never found a chance to ask for his number.

───※ ·❆· ※─── ───※ ·❆· ※───

One of the demands that your sister made when it came to her wedding was that she wanted it to be in an open-air hall. And so, with constant research, your parents had managed to book a place with a gigantic lawn and pleasant atmosphere. Almost three-fourth of the space was taken up by the dance floor, guest area and buffet table, but there were still some secluded corners of the venue, where the lights didn’t quite reach. And that was where you were, sitting on a bench under a gazebo and looking up at the stars.

You had found this secluded corner on your first visit here to scout the venue. The romantic structure had sent a delightful thrill in you when you had first laid your eyes on it, sending that hopeless-romantic side of you into overdrive. You had planned on visiting it again, but certainly not like this; a broken, crying mess. After that fiasco at the drink bar, your legs had somehow managed to carry you here, and you had collapsed onto the bench, as your quiet sobs filled the air.

“I see you found this place. Quite romantic, isn’t it?” a quiet, familiar voice suddenly cut through the air. Kiro walked up to you and quietly sat in the seat beside you, keeping a respectable distance apart from you which you were grateful for. You didn’t think you could bear the touch of any man right now. The memory of Ryan’s hands on you gave you goosebumps whenever you thought of it. You winced. “Why are you here? Don’t you have work to do?”

“Nah, it’s alright. Savin’s looking after it for me.”

“Savin?”

“My colleague.”

“Oh.”

Your words died down, not knowing how to continue, but at the same time, you didn’t need to. The two of you were content on just sitting there in silence, finding comfort in each other’s presence. Kiro’s body heat was like an antidote, slowly healing you from the inside. You looked at him, from the corner of your eyes. He was busy looking up at the stars, his pretty, long lashes quivering in the moonlight. He looked ethereal, with a hint of sensuality that seemed to draw you in, like a moth to a flame. The soft smile on his face was one that eclipsed the stars, and suddenly the distance between the two of you seemed much too wide.

Closer. You wanted to get closer. To touch him, feel him, soak in his warmth.

Carefully, hesitantly, you scooted closer to him until your arms were touching, and you gently laid your head on his shoulder. Kiro didn’t protest, nor did he push you away. In fact, after a few seconds, you even felt his body start to relax under your touch. The air was peaceful, the only sounds being the cool breeze and your light, shallow breathing.

You didn’t know how long the two of you sat there, in silence, seconds bleeding into minutes. Somewhere along the way, the two of you had shifted even closer, he’s head resting atop yours, your fingers’ entwined with each other's. A soft melody drifted into the air. It was a song that was familiar to you; one of your favorites. I’d Love You To Want Me, by Lobo.

Kiro slowly nudged you. “Hey, Miss Chips. You didn’t fall asleep, did you?”

You smiled to yourself. No matter how many times he used that name, you still couldn’t get enough of it. “Mmhm,” you whispered, burying your face in his neck and taking in his sweet, intoxicating scent.

“Oh good,” he chuckled. “‘Cause if you did, we might be the only ones left here when the party finally ends.”

“Is that a bad thing?” You mumble, slightly lifting your face to brush your lips against the shell of his ear. You felt the way his hand suddenly tightened it’s hold on your’s, heard the way his breath caught in his throat, and it sent a sweet thrill down your spine.

Funny. You hadn’t had a single drop of alcohol that day—courtesy of Kiro—but you felt drunk, somehow. A sudden idea occurred to you. “Hey, Kiro?”

“Hm?”

“Dance with me.”

“H-huh..? Whoa!” Before Kiro could even register what was happening, you were already tugging his arm, kicking off your high-heels (it was getting painful to walk in them), and leading him to the center of the gazebo. “You do know how to dance right?” You teased, placing your left hand on his shoulder while his right hand circled your waist.

“Of course, I do,” he replied indignantly, only for it to be replaced by a teasing smile of his own. Your heart thumped at the sight of it. “I’m just wondering if you’ll be able to keep up with me.”

And here comes the sass again, you thought, rolling your eyes. You took a step closer to him and looked him in the eye, rising to his challenge. “Try me.”

The two of you swayed to the music, Kiro’s scorching hand pressing against the skin of your back as you stuck to his chest. You swallowed nervously at the sensation. There was a certain kind of intimacy that came with dancing like this. It wasn’t something you had noticed before; only ever slow-dancing with family members. But now, at this very moment, with his face pressed next to yours, his hot breath fanning against your ear… the sultry heat and passion that suddenly filled the air was so thick and tangible you could cut it with a knife. The cool breeze that blew by did nothing to cool your burning skin. The music seemed to fade away into the distance, leaving nothing but the two of you, locked in each other's embrace.

Maybe your fruit punch had been spiked, or maybe it was because of the heat, but that feeling of drunkenness returned and you couldn’t stop your hands from roaming, fingers busily trying to undo the bowtie around his neck. Kiro’s fingers twitched against your back.

“Miss Chips, what’re you—”

“Say my name,” you breathed, pressing your lips to his ear. “Please say my name. I want to hear you say it.”

He shivered, pressing into you further. It took a few seconds, but you soon heard the whisper of your name fall past his lips, his tone soft, raspy, like he was holding something back. It sent your heart racing, your senses tingling at every nerve-ending.

Without any word or warning, Kiro bit the skin of your neck and sucked, brushing your hair out of the way for better access, leaving a blossom of red on your flushed skin. You whimpered as his lips gradually worked their way up, stopping only when his teeth grazed your right earlobe and he growled, “You're doing this on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Whatever do you mean?” You asked with feigned innocence. The two of you had stopped dancing by now but continued to keep your embrace. By then you had already managed to loosen his bow-tie, dropping it to the floor beside you, granting you better access to his slender neck. “I’m just flirting with the guy I like,” you continued, the tone of your voice teasing as you boldly trailed your forefinger down his throat, in a sinuous, sensual drag, pausing at the first button on his buttoned-up white shirt. You undid it. “Is that so wrong?”

Kiro let out a low, dark chuckle as he shook his head against you, his soft, blonde hair tickling your neck. “You are going to be the death of me.”

You laughed, kissing the side of his neck, finally, finally getting to run your hand through the luxurious blonde locks that you had been craving to touch the entire night.

“Kiro?”

“Hm?”

“Kiss me.”

“……”

Time had stopped, your heartbeat the only sound audible to you as you waited on bated breath for Kiro’s response. He slowly separated your bodies and looked at you with wide eyes, as if he was unable to process what he had just heard. His mouth opened and closed several times, looking like a gaping fish, until he finally asked in a soft voice “are you sure?”

You nodded—all too eagerly—and that was enough for Kiro to throw caution into the wind and close the distance between you.

His lips captured yours as he brought your body back against him, his initial movements slow and tentative, as if testing the waters. His lips were soft and warm, and everything you’d dreamed them to be. Your arms slid around his neck as you surrendered yourself to the kiss, standing on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss.

It was like the flood gates had been opened. Or a bunch of caged animals that had been let out into the wild again. Because once the two of you started, you couldn’t dream of stopping. Your hands tangled up in his hair while his snaked up your back to cradle the back of your neck, angling your head to deepen the kiss even further. His tongue swept across your bottom lip, requesting entrance, and, without a second thought, you opened your mouth to him, tangling your tongues together in a heated battle.

You didn’t know long the two of you stood there, tangled up in each other’s heat, gasping, moaning, kissing the living daylights out of each other. But all too soon—to you anyway—the two of you had to break up for air, breaths still mixing as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“Well, Miss Chips,” Kiro panted, a breath-taking smile spread across his face. “Since we’ve already come this far, I think I should ask, but… would you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?”

You giggled at his awkward proposal, as your noses brushed together. You didn’t think chance encounters like these were possible, except in movies. And yet here you were, accepting a proposal from the cheekiest, funniest, cutest, most attractive bartender you met only a few hours ago. You kissed him again, a happy smile spreading across your lips as you murmured, “thought you’d never ask!”

───※ ·❆· ※─── ───※ ·❆· ※───

Thank you so much for reading! If you’re interested in checking out my other works, you’ll find them in my Masterlist.

[tog-resources-archive]

Hello fellow fan who has been here since the beginning! I come from the “other side” I suppose, in that I do think the top/bottom discourse is worth talking about. It has to do with the elephant in the room which I haven’t seen anyone touch on – self-identified top!joe fans (in contrast to simply fans who enjoy or prefer content where joe tops). I remember the original top/bottom discourse coming out of a more general conversation about trends in fic (1)

Thank you fan!anon for sending me such a long, detailed message! Never apologize for writing me an essay since I always seem to be writing essays for other people in return lol. Also sorry it took a while to get to! This required a bit of preparation. You’ve given me a lot to respond to. I’m going to be putting the entirety of the ask under the cut and the tl;dr because this one is very, verrrryyyy long. 

Tl;dr- fan!anon talks about the history of top/bottom discourse in TOG and the issues of racism in our fandom. My response: my own feelings on the history of the top/bottom discourse in TOG and the current state of it. General issues I’ve observed in this fandom and the current discourse. Also, we shouldn’t ignore fandom racism, but I don’t think we should be looking at it through the lens of top/bottom, AND I think we should be focusing on misogyny, homophobia, etc. in addition to racism. Not ignore one for the other. 

Bottom line though, don’t harrass people, block people if you need to, focus on what you love, support fan creation and let’s try to be a better fandom. 

Okay, time to dig in!

Hello fellow fan who has been here since the beginning! I come from the “other side” I suppose, in that I do think the top/bottom discourse is worth talking about. It has to do with the elephant in the room which I haven’t seen anyone touch on – self-identified top!joe fans (in contrast to simply fans who enjoy or prefer content where joe tops). I remember the original top/bottom discourse coming out of a more general conversation about trends in fic (1) wherein Joe was more violent, less empathetic, often not religious, more aggressive in sexual scenarios, and also most often topping. People asked the fandom in general to simply consider, if that is how they perceive Joe, to reflect for themselves about implicit biases that could be colouring that interpretation. The self-identified top!joes used that conversation as a starting point to argue that the above interpretation of Joe, (2) and writing/drawing Nicky as smaller, almost twink-like, demure, more feminine (or writing fic where he was de-aged) was justified by canon (if you recall the multi-day argument about the approximately 1 inch height difference between Marwan and Luca) and connecting those ideas to top!joe just “making more sense” to them. In the hands of a good writer (of which we are blessed to have many in this fandom!), which character tops in an explicit fic is of no consequence to me. (3) But the concept of top!joe has, in my mind, become so closely tied with those fans who, a) interpret these characters and actions in a way that seems influenced by racial stereotypes and tropes and b) use that characterization as “justification” for top!joe. All this when I thought we all agreed that position preference has nothing to do with personality? (4) If someone sees Joe as a very masculine, aggressive, dom-type character (which is a bit of a one-note characterization to start, but I digress), that shouldn’t be related to him being a “top”, correct? Yet that is the interpretation and connection that the top!joes themselves make. So that’s why to me, the top/bottom framework continues to have some value, eve though in an ideal world it wouldn’t: (5) because some fans connect what should be a neutral sexual position preference to an interpretation of Joe’s character, an interpretation which I think doesn’t do him justice. I understand if you don’t want to publish this but I’m hesitant to talk off anon due to how heated this whole conversation is. I also don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or make them feel bad about how they are participating in the fandom, but I do think self-reflection in terms of how we engage is valuable. (6) And just to fully reiterate in case it wasn’t clear, my above points are specifically referring to who I think of as “top!joe only” fans as opposed to fans who enjoy or prefer content in which joe tops – only the former of which I am wary of. Anyways, sorry for this long message, and I hope I've been able to explain my reasoning. If we continue to disagree, thanks for reading this anyways and continuing the dialogue. Thank you also for promoting femslash events and content! (7)

So....I did say in a previous post that I’m not a big fan of hearsay, and I’m sorry but… that’s kind of what you’ve given me. A lot of “this is what Top!Joe Only people have said” and “this is what the rest of the fandom has said back.” I have to ask, who are these “Top!Joe Only” people that are on the other side of this fandom war? Who are the people representing the “rest of the fandom”?  The only names I could really come up with myself are the Top!Joe Server mods as top!Joe only fans, and they haven’t exactly been active recently. Not to mention the Top!Joe server mod @karanoidandroid was the focus of the Art Theft and Bullying debacle a while back (here) which even if you disagree with her… that’s not the way you treat people. Full stop. 

But anyway, to break this down, you’ve said that top!joe only fans wanted to interpret Joe in a way that was “more violent, less empathetic, less religious, more sexually aggressive, and topping (most of the time)” and that Nicky is “smaller, more twink-like, more demure and feminine” and that the hardcore top!joe stans are using this interpretation as a reasoning for liking top!joe explicit fics (and for underage fic?)

Er, honestly, I’ll have to disregard the “less religious” comment in this one. Lucyclairedelune has talked about it very eloquently here. As for the rest, let’s say these opinions were expressed on tumblr in July, just when the fandom was getting started. However, after personally going through all the Explicit July fics, I gotta say, the overwhelming majority of writers are focused on romantic Malta sex vacations lol. 

From my personal observations (I started reading fic on ao3 in August), I’ve seen some stories that cater to very… specific tastes (mostly kinkmeme fics so I’m not going to touch that) and some that have…. been written in poor taste perhaps. But, honestly, the majority of fics (aka G, T, M rated) that I’ve seen? I would say that they were written with care and concern for the character’s portrayal. 

Now, some fans (usually older fans) are very focused on “your kink is not my kink” and other fans feel this is an inappropriate way to view “racist, homophobic, islamophobic, etc” fics. And I agree with that. If people are using kink to excuse racism, homophobia, islamophobia, transphobia, antisemitism, misogyny, etc, in fics: Fuck that. But I think there’s a lot of misunderstanding flying around when people react to ‘ykinmk”. This fandom likes to assume the worst of their fellow fans imo, and I honestly don’t think that when a person defends kink that they’re trying to defend racism. They’re trying to defend their kink community which, historically, has been attacked and misunderstood by the purity police. Look into the Livejournal, ffnet, and even the Tumblr purges if you don’t believe me. 

For the record, I don’t know anyone on tumblr personally. We’re all effectively strangers talking to each other on the internet, so I’m not going to make assumptions about people from stories they’ve posted on AO3 or the kinkmeme. If you want to talk about the issues those fics represent, that’s cool, but don’t harass people whose life stories you don’t know (and don’t vagueblog about them). (This is just a general statement, not saying this about you anon! I feel really strongly about this.)

Now you say, “some fans connect what should be a neutral sexual position preference to an interpretation of Joe’s character” and I hate to say it, but there are ALWAYS going to be some people who have awful opinions. Ones that are either truly terrible, or kind of in poor taste, or maybe you just don’t vibe with them. Personally, I don’t have enough time in the day to address every weird thing that a person spews on the internet. I won’t judge if you want to take them on, but, personally, I haven’t seen any recent militant top!joe only posts that are calling for racist portrayals. I see people referring to past conversations, for sure, but again, I can’t do anything with hearsay. 

And honestly, we keep bringing up the top/bottom discourse of early TOG fandom, and we’re just not the same fandom we were then. SO MANY people have left the fandom in that time-- a lot of big name (or simply well known) fans and a lot of MENA fans. Regardless of what “side” you’re on in this, we all lose by focusing on the positions, by dividing everyone by “top” or “bottom” or “switch” fans, and by bringing up what people said in July, or August, or September.  It’s exhausting, especially because I think a lot of people have done exactly what you said. Many authors HAVE self-reflected, they’ve thought about trends, the implications, and are contributing/interacting with the fandom as best as they can. Do I think we should stop focusing on self-reflection? That we should stop being careful about writing potentially damaging portrayals of our favorite characters? NO. Let’s keep at it! Let’s encourage others to do the same… but not with top/bottom discourse.

Let it be known that I don’t think racism is a topic we should disregard to focus on other things. Honestly, I would be happy if people gave some of the energy they have for “top/bottom” discourse to talk about the portrayal of Nile Freeman or Lykon or Copley or Quynh… the other POC representation in TOG that usually gets ignored. You may interpret this as me going “but what about??” and that’s fair. I just think that we talk about Joe ALL THE TIME in this fandom. There is an avalanche of conversation and content for this man (who I love, don’t get me wrong) and it just feels really disingenuous (to me) to talk ad nauseum about racist portrayals of Joe, but then to ignore Nile Freeman and wlw fics when Nile is the rare Black Female Action Protagonist and Andy/Quynh is an extremely rare interracial canon lesbian couple. And I’ve been trying to use my blog here to bring attention to this, think of me what you will because of that. (Again just a general statement anon! Not directed to you XD)

And from what I’ve seen in this fandom (and many others to be fair) is that we care about racism SO MUCH…but only when talking about how a man has sex.  It speaks of a lack of intersectional understanding of these topics, disregarding the misogyny that IS ALSO inherent in fandom, and disregarding the homophobia of overfocusing on the top/bottom dynamics. BUT I’m not asking you to ignore racism; all I’m asking is for you to focus on the other issues too. 

Bottom line though… the discourse is not what it once was.  A lot of people, on whatever side, have left the fandom, or have taken a break, or are vocally tired of “top/bottom” discourse. Personally, I think we should talk about racism… but not through the lens of explicit mlm fic sex positions. Let’s talk more about race, gender, sex and sexual orientation, but not in a way that divides the fandom, in a way that makes people sick of being here, in a way that kills our content creator’s passion. Honestly, I think it can be done! But only if we work toward that goal together. 

I would like to focus on encouraging events in our community, such as the ongoing Old Guard Big Bang 2021 event and the upcoming Femslash Fortnight Spring Solstice Edition event. If anyone is organizing other events, let me know and I’ll hype you up! But as for the rest, I’m tired, you’re tired, we’re all tired. Let’s try and work harder to be a kinder, more inclusive fandom in the future, for everyone’s sake. 

[whitecatindisguise]

Strangle

So, I got inspired again. Thank you @wheredomelodiescomefrom for creating yet another amazing art (which you can find here).

------

"Cassandra, please!" Varian begged, running up to the woman and grabbing her wrist. "You don't have to do this."

"You are wrong." She snarled and yanked her arm free. "I HAVE TO do this."

"Cass, I know what it's like. I've been there." The boy tried to persuade. "But becoming the villain is not-"

"Is that what you think I am?!" Cassandra snapped and pushed him away.

He backed away, almost tripping on his legs. His eyes widened as the woman came closer, rage in her eyes.

"Ca-Cass. I just want to help!" He cried, and flinched, when his back hit the wall.

The blue-haired woman stopped only inches before him, looking over his smaller body. His terrified eyes locked on her enraged ones.

"I don't need your help!" She shouted, clenching her fist.

The tower rumbled and Varian tensed, eyes darting around in panic. Cassandra grabbed him forcefully and he yelped in pain and surprise.

"Don't move." She hissed but she didn't really have to say it. His mind went blank, body frozen in terror.

Something closed around his neck and his eyes widened, hand subconsciously reaching towards it. He froze again, when his fingers met a rough, spiky surface instead of skin.

"Cass, what-" He started but the woman closed her fist and suddenly something squeezed around his neck.

His eyes went wide, breathing hitched as he tried to pull off the rocks. They pushed on his windpipe, cutting out the oxygen.

He went into complete panic mode, wheezing and clawing at the collar around his neck. Blank spots danced at the corner of his vision, a sure sign of the lack of air.

He fell down, still desperately trying to pry off the rocks. The hold was getting tighter and tighter, less oxygen getting to his lungs. And the fact he was hyperventilating wasn't helping the case.

Then, as sudden as it started, the squeeze receded and he gasped for air, panting heavily. His ears rang, sound muffled and vision blurred.

Cassandra was saying something but he couldn't understand a word. She must have noticed that, because she gave a frustrated huff and created more stones, trapping the exhausted alchemist.The last thing he remembered before finally losing consciousness was the feeling of wind tugging on his hair.

~~~~~~

“Use the Sun to see the Sun? What does that even mean?!” Varian let out an exasperated huff and threw his goggles and scroll. The parchment, luckily, got stuck on one of the bars of his cage, goggles hanging from another spike.

He crossed his arms and sat back, leaning over the rock surface. A ray of light caught his attention and he looked at the scroll. The sun was being reflected in the glass from his goggles, revealing hidden text on the other side.

His eyes widened with realisation and he scrambled closer, a geeky smile appearing on his face.

“Of course! The incantation was hidden with photochromic ink! Demanitus, you genius!” He cried out happily, admiring the parchment.

He was so invested in deciphering the words, he barely noticed someone calling his name. He turned and squinted his eyes, noticing long blonde locks of one of two figures standing in the entrance to the tower.

“We’re going to get you out, kid!” Eugene called and the boy’s eyes moved to the scroll. He took a moment before answering.

“Not now! I’ve found the final incantation! It was hidden with photochromic ink! Obvious, right?” He called back, letting out a small chuckle. The grumble from the opening told him they weren’t that much interested as he was. “But I need the constant ray of light to read it. Something like prism or...”

“Crystal?” Rapunzel asked and he saw her taking something out of her bag. Eugene seemed to be genuinely surprised and pleased.

The two exchanged few words, before the man kissed Rapunzel on the cheek and started to make his way towards the alchemist’s cage.

Varian was looking between Eugene and the sun, anxiously waiting for him to finally deliver the crystal. The sun has almost set and they needed to hurry.

“Eugene, the sun is almost gone!” He called out and saw the man wobble and fall, barely grabbing the rocks to stop himself from falling.

“I’m going as fast as I can, kid.” The brown-haired man grumbled in response and shuffled closer, reaching out his hand towards him.

Varian quickly caught the object and tilted his head as he noticed it being a ring. An engagement ring, to be exact. He decided to not dwell on it, turning to his work.

Eugene gasped sharply behind him.

“Kid, what is that?!” He asked and Varian sent him a confused look.

“It’s Demanitus scroll, Eugene.” He replied, not sure why the man sounded so terrified.

“No, that’s- I know it’s Demanitus scroll!” Eugene’s eyes wasn’t on the parchment, but rather on... “What do you have around your neck?”

Varian froze for a moment, before one of his hands slowly rose to reach the questionable part. His eyes widened in realisation as fingers brushed the rough surface. Oh, right. The collar.

“That’s...” He trailed off, looking away. What should he say? That Cassandra put a collar of black rocks around his neck? That she tried to strangle him with it?

“Did Cassandra do that?” Eugene asked and Varian looked away, opting to focus on the incantation. “No, of course she did. No way you did it yourself. It’s made of black rocks, for Sun’s sake!”

“It’s working!” Varian shouted happily, for a moment forgetting about the collar around his neck.

He cried out, when the scroll caught fire. He wasn’t paying attention and the concentrated beam of light wavered too long in one spot. He scrambled with one hand for the paper and pencil, writing down the incantation as fast as he could.

He let go of the last piece of scroll, sighing in relief at the piece of paper with written down final incantation.

“I got it!” He gave the man a toothy grin and Eugene smiled in response, before his eyes fell on the boy’s neck again. The former thief frowned, smile wavering.

“What happened?” He asked, eyes full of worry. Varian looked away.

“I... I tried to talk to her but...” He reached to tug on his gloves, the collar suddenly seeming to suffocate him. “I think I only made her more mad.”

“Kid, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Eugene reached through the bars and put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. He seemed to want to ask something else, but then the cage shook and moved back towards the tower.

“Eugene?” Varian’s eyes were filled with fear. Eugene grit his teeth and reached out his hand for the boy to hold onto.

“Stay close, kid.” He said, before they were pulled inside.

Only moments later Eugene was pulled away, encased in black rocks, Cassandra squeezing the man mercilessly. Varian looked around and noticed Rapunzel pinned to the wall just few feet to his left. His eyes fell on the note he still held in one hand.

“Rapunzel!” He cried, reaching out the hand with the note through the bars. “I have the final incantation! You have to-!”

His words were lost as the collar suddenly tightened, pushing on his windpipe. The note fell from his hold as he struggled to breathe.

“Varian!” Rapunzel and Eugene both cried out, as the boy lay on the floor, wheezing and clawing at the collar.

“Rapu... the inca... plea...” He mumbled, not able to get out a coherent sentence as he got less and less oxygen.

“Cass! Stop!” Rapunzel cried, eyes watering.

His vision was blurring, sounds muted. He felt like he was being held underwater. Unable to breathe. Unable to hear. Unable to see.

So this is how I’m going to die?, he thought as it was harder to keep his eyes open. He thought he saw something grabbing the note from the floor, but he might have as well been hallucinating.

And then, the hold on his neck loosened. He gasped, taking deep breaths, filling his lungs with oxygen.

“Kid! Varian!” He heard Eugene call out to him with terror in his voice. “Varian!”

“I... I’m okay...” He somehow managed  to reply, voice raspy. He rolled to his back, staring at the ceiling, breathing heavily. “I’m okay.”

Eugene opened his mouth to say something more but a sudden explosion startled them both. Varian looked up to see Rapunzel and Cassandra stuck in a duel, two coloured energies clashing with each other.

The wind picked up and suddenly there was no cage holding the boy in place. He started to move towards the ridge and his eyes widened in terror. He didn’t even notice the collar crumbling away, too focused on his body sliding away.

“Eugene!” He called out frightfully. Then, before any of them managed to react, he was pushed away and fell.

~~~~~~

They were back at the bottom of the tower. The moment Eugene and Rapunzel walked through the door, they ran up to the alchemist and locked him in a tender embrace. It took only a moment, but when he was wrapped in a tight hug, the dam finally broke.

The kidnapping, the drugging, the collar and being strangled, being locked up in a cage hundreds of metres above the ground, strangled again and finally falling to his death. It all came back at once, and he teared down, desperately holding to the two adults.

He didn’t know how long was he crying. At some point Lance, Catalina and Kiera joined in, all lovingly embracing him, as he cried his eyes out. When he finally had no more tears, he slowly released the two adults he took hold to.

“Better now?” Rapunzel asked softly and he nodded, wiping the last of the tears from his eyes.

“Sorry...” He mumbled, eyes downcast. His hand subconsciously went to his neck, startling when he actually managed to touch it.

“Erm, you might consider wearing higher collars for some time.” Eugene said as he eyed the boy’s neck. “Or a scarf.”

“That bad?” Varian asked and Eugene stared for a moment before nodding. The boy sighed tiredly.

“Dad’s going to have a fit.” He said and chuckled nervously.

“Want me to come with?” The man offered and Varian smiled in response.

“Nah, I’ll figure something out.” He replied. “Not the worst of the injuries I had over time.”

“Kid, that’s not reassuring.” Eugene shot him a concerned gaze and the boy laughed.

------

So... I didn’t really include the handcuffs from the pic. I tried, I really did. But they didn’t make any sense to the idea I came up with. Hope it’s not that much of a trash. Not my best but... I hope you enjoyed it.

[xgoldentigerlilyx]

Here I am, another fan drabble for @themetaphorgirl and her AU Patron Saints of Lost Causes! This is where you can find all of the Information about this wonderful story!

I thought I could stop myself after Hypochondriac and Saved for a Rainy Day, but i had another cute idea and wanted to bring it to life. Thanks to Caitlin for letting me write this, and it may not be as perfect as her fantastic writing but I love it! Enjoy!

(I may have also gotten a bit carried away)

Penelope’s Plan

Word count: 2.3k

Rainy day crafts

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“My, Chocolate Thunder! I’ve never been in your room before! Let me guess, you’ve got a few football posters, and at least one sock on your bed right now?” Penelopeasked Derek, her left arm linked through his and her right arm tapping her chin inquisitively with a playful smile.

“Spencer Reid! You’re room!” Penelope exclaimed, dropping Derek’s arm and walking slowly to Spencer’s bookshelf, and looked around the barren walls and shelves of his side of the room. Derek went to stop her from speaking, knowing from the look on Spencer's face that he didn’t want anymore pity, especially one of the girls. Before Derek could stop her from the usual probing questions he got like ‘Where’s all of your things,’ or ‘You can’t even afford a proper blanket?’, she shushed Derek. “We need to decorate in here, stat! Tell me my dear boy genius, your favourite shows, books, colours, pets, everything!”

Once Penelope was satisfied with Spencer's answers, she flipped her new unicorn notebook shut and stuffed it into her small unicorn purse hanging by her side. “Alright kiddo, go back to reading your book. What do you even have enough time to read, anyways?” She asked curiously, the worn cover not providing her much insight.

Spencer picked to book back up, trying to find his previous page. “It’s War and Peace, I finally found it in its original Russian!” He smiled, proud of being able to find it in the library without Alex’s help.When Penelope nodded with a look of shock on her face, he presumed she had no interest if he started to explain it to her. So he turned his full attention back to the books, with the wonder of what she would be doing with this new found knowledge of him.

When Derek was done with his laundry, Penelope waved quickly to a zoned in Spencer and hastily pulled Derek out of the shared room, slamming the door behind her and continued to drag him to the library. Once sat down at a secluded corner, Penelope finally decided to answer Derek’s questions. “We need to make Spencer some crafts to decorate his side of the room. Now, throw me some ideas.” Penelope smiled, with her notebook out once more and her pen at the ready to start a brand new list. Derek raised a brow silently. Penelope groaned. “Come on. His room needs to be more Spencer! It looks like a hotel room on his side. It needs to be more like him if he’s going to be there all year!” She rambled her hands waving through the air as she talked.

“Alright, alright. Well, he likes books so maybe something to do with like, book pages? I don’t know. You should ask everyone else. And don’t give me that glare, baby girl! I’m just saying someone else may be a bit more insightful on how to help. My bet is on Alex.” Penelope’s glare dissolved, as she got the idea to go ask everyone in their little friend group. She stood from her chair, returned her notebook to her bag, and set off on her mission.

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

She wandered for a bit, looking at all of their normal spots to find their friends. It was, afterall, a Sunday. Her first location, the amphitheater, was where she found Hotch and Emily with large textbooks open on their laps and stationary surrounding them. “Hello, my fine furry friends! I come seeking knowledge from all of my peers and hope you both can contribute!” The pair of juniors shared a nervous glance, before setting their textbooks aside for a moment.

“What’s up Pen?” Emily asked, and Penelope immediately smiled and retrieved her trusty notepad and sparkly pink pen.

She flipped the cover open while she spoke. “I need help finding ways to decorate Spencer's room. Poor thing doesn’t have a poster, decal, or even a picture that represents himself. So, and ideas?” She questioned, hopefully glancing between the two. They thought for a moment before sharing their answers.

“Well, you could make him one of those calendars with a new word a day or something.” Emily shrugged, thinking of the things Spencer likes.

“You can just ask him what he wants.” Aaron nodded, eyes drifting back to his books. Emily gave him a slight shove. “You know the kid, he doesn’t ask for anything. He would just deny that he needed anything.” She retorted, thinking back to the many times he had done that very thing.

Penelope nodded, and scribbled the viable suggestion next to Emily’s name, and added an ‘N/A’ to where Hotch’s name was listed. “Alright, off to the next friends! Thank you my favourite band of heroes!” Penelope thanked, and turned out of the amphitheater and back to the main campus.

“We need to get her drug tested.” Hotch announced to Emily.

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Out in the soccer field is where she went next, and Penelope found JJ running drills alone while Blake and Rossi sat on the bleachers, talking and occasionally glancing over to a determined looking JJ. When they saw Penelope approaching, they sat up straight. When she reached them, she sat in front of them on a cold seat. “JJ! Sorry to interrupt Jayje, but this is important!” Penelope yelled to her blonde friend who grabbed a battered pink water bottle from beside her duffle bag and made her way over to the bleachers huffing and puffing. Penelope looked over to James and David with a worried expression. “Two hours,” James clarified to an exasperated Penelope, “And she only took a break when we asked her to, which was around an hour ago.” He explained, and hushed as JJ reached them.

She crashed into the empty seat beside Penelope and took another long drink. “What’s wrong? Is everything ok?” She questioned, her breathing returning back to normal and an expression of concern overtook the exhaustion. Penelope laughed.

“Of course, Jayje. Well, mostly.” Penelope turned her attention to all of them as one and continued. “I only just saw the dorm room of Dere-Bear and our little genius, and the lack of any flair from Spencer’s side of the room made me a new type of sorrow. So! I’m going from friend to friend looking for ideas to make for his room to add a little flair of him to his room!” She explained, a big grin on her face.

“You could make him one of those folded book sculptures?” JJ threw out, wiping some sweat off of her forehead.

“Hand drawing him a poster of a band he likes would be something he’d like, right?” James asked, looking to David who was nodding.

David thought for a moment while Penelope hastily wrote down the ideas, her pink pen scratching and scrawling on the page. “I’m sure the kid will like anything you do for him. Not like he has anyone in his life to make gifts like you do, Garcia.” David shrugged.

Penelope finished her quick note taking and once more closed and put away her notebook. She smiled and said, “Thanks for the help guys! I’ll keep you in the loop!”. She skipped her way off the soccer field, and JJ returned to the soccer field to continue her practice.

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Alex sat in the library, reading a book and sneakily snacking on some of the pop-tarts she kept hidden in her desk. She heard the faint and growing sound of footsteps, so she closed the drawer with the secret snacks and went back to reading her book as normal. The doors opened, and Penelope’s eyes swept the library before her eyes found Alex at the main desk. Once she had her eyes set on her target, she walked with determination to a now amused looking Alex. She rested her elbow on a pile of old books waiting to be organized and announced, “Alex! Just the gal I was looking for!”.

Alex set her book down, noting the page as she did so. “What do you need, Garcia?” She asked, sitting back in the comfortable office chair.

“Well, our dear Baby Genius has no evidence of him even living in his room, and we need to spice it up a bit!” Penelope spoke enthusiastically and quickly of her grand idea once more to the person she thought to be the most helpful.

Alex stopped to think for a moment, processing Penelope’s words. “So you want my help?” She asked curiously, her mind already thinking of some small ideas.

Penelope nodded with a grin, and grabbed her trusted notebook and sparkly pen, and answered Alex’s question. “Well, of course! I do have some other ideas as well from the rest of our squad, but I bet you’ll have one really great idea! So, bounce some ideas!” she rambled on.

Alex had many ideas, but then the right one hit her. She smiled at Penelope and sat up. “I think I’ve got the perfect idea.”

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That saturday was perfect for Penelope's plan, as it was a rainy and quiet day. She had been plotting since Tuesday on her master plan. She made them all a group chat. And asked who wanted to help her with some arts and crafts. She got a yes from all but David and Hotch (it isn’t that they didn’t want to help, it’s just that they insisted they were terrible at crafts) so she had a separate mission for them; to distract Spencer.

On that rainy Saturday morning, the plan was going perfectly. David and Hotch made up a story about how they needed to run into town to the bookstore for some book Hotch needed, and asked if anyone would like to join them. Spencer, being his book loving self, instantly agreed while everyone politely turned them down all with their own excuses.

“Oh, I’ll leave the books to Pretty Boy.’

“I have to finish that math assignment with JJ.”

“I would love to, but I picked up an extra library shift.”

So they set off into the town, and made sure to let Spencer ramble his heart out. And they took him out for ice cream just so the crafters had enough time to get everything done.

Meanwhile, everyone got started on their projects. Penelope had an extensive, almost obsessive collection of craft supplies, and some old books free to mutilate if anyone needed them. They all got their hands working, and by the end of their rainy day craft session, everyone was covered in purple glitter from when Derek dropped the glitter shaker in front of the hair dryer being used to dry some paint. But alas, they all had completed their gifts and now just had to place them for when the boys got back from their distraction trip.

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Spencer opened the door to his dorm room, clutching an armful of books and an empty bowl with some melted ice cream remainaints. “Derek! You wouldn’t BELIEVE how many books are in the store just beside the craft shop! David let me get so-” He cut himself off as he went to dump his books on his bed.

The first thing he noticed was the cluster of people in his small room. Penelope with Derek on his respective bed, JJ and Emily on Spencer's bed, and Alex standing beside his priorly barren wall. “Woah…” He mumbled to himself, looking to his new decorations. A miniature replica of the TARDIS made of popsicle sticks and adorned with blue glitter sat on his bedside table. A small piece of paper with a purple glittery book leaned against the TARDIS. A homemade Lerner&Lowe poster was taped to his headboard, and on his bookshelf was a book flipped with the spine facing in. But instead of regular pages, they were folded (slightly crooked) to look like the Death Star. And the thing that took up the most space was a tree made from construction paper taped on the wall. But on each branch there was a name of someone in their friend group, a short message, and a picture of them. The top of the tree had the words ‘Our Family’.

Spencer’s eyes were watering as he finished taking all of it in. Dave and Aaron stood behind him, resting on the sides of the doorframe and watching like everyone else was. He sniffled, and wiped his eyes quickly. He was overwhelmed, but in the best way. After taking a moment to collect himself from the shock and awe, everyone stayed in their room for the rest of the day until supper, just hanging out before they had to regroup in the cafeteria for supper.

Penelope was glad her plan had the desired effect, and everyone was content with seeing Spencer happy.

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[ryrycaptain]

My Juliet - PBB 2020

Hello and welcome to my fic for the PBB this year. I took inspiration from reading Romeo and Juliet to create this story. I’ll be forever grateful for ilikestopwatches who helped me so much with this fic. I’d also like to thank Divy for making some amazing art to go along with my fic. 

ao3 link

Dan was growing tired of following the lively man in front of him. He had a mop of brown curls resting on his head and green eyes that were framed by a lopsided pair of glasses. They’d already covered the dressing rooms, prop room, and wardrobe, and he was starting to sweat from the beating sun. “Ah here we are, sir,” the man, PJ called out, “the stage.”

Dan gasped in disbelief. He’d never been to the Globe Theatre before, and to see the stage he would be performing on in person was thrilling. The woodwork was intricate, and the stage was strong under his feet. “It’s amazing,” he cheered.

“It surely is a beautiful feat of architecture.”

At the end of the stage, people were spread out busying themselves with their scripts, but one person in particular caught his eye. The man had brown hair with the slightest tint of red and sparkling blue eyes that were framed by a simple pair of glasses. He looked to be in his early thirties, and he was currently staring intensely at the paper in front of him. “Who’s that?” Dan asked PJ.

PJ gave him a look of confusion. “That’s Philip Lester. He’s the author of the play.”

“Oh I’ve heard of him. He’s one of my biggest inspirations, but I’ve never seen him before.”

PJ nodded curtly and clapped his hands together. Everyone looked towards them and Dan’s cheeks flushed at the attention. “This is Daniel Howell, everyone. He will be playing the lovely Juliet. Please give him a warm welcome.”

With that, PJ started walking towards Phil which left Dan awkwardly standing alone on the stage before someone waved him over. He walked over carefully, wary of breaking something if he stepped too hard or breathed too loud. The man who had waved him over was even taller than Dan, which was a surprising feat since Dan was almost 6 feet tall, and had a shock of red hair framing his face. “My name is Christopher, but you can call me Kit. I’ll be playing the charming Romeo,” the redhead said.

“Um it’s nice to meet you. I’m Daniel but you can call me Dan,” he said, shaking his hand.

“Would you like to practise with me?” Kit asked. “We have a lot of lines together.”

Dan laughed. “I suppose I can make some time to practise with you.”

—

Dan had spent a good hour going over the script with Kit, and he had to admit that the story was brilliant. He could tell the play would be a huge hit with the plot twists and romantic storyline. He wasn’t totally surprised though because Lester’s plays always seemed to amaze him. Speaking of Philip Lester, he was currently perched on a seat in the highest viewing room and yelling at Kit.

“No. No. No. You’re doing it all wrong, Kit,” Philip sighed. “You sound too happy about your recent breakup. The whole point of this scene is to show Romeo’s impulsive behavior. You must be saddened by the loss of your relationship.”

“Ok,” Kit said. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, should, without eyes, see pathways to his will!”

“That’s better, but I still feel like I am watching someone recite lines not mope about their lost love. You must practise this scene. Now, go on and take a break.”

“Yes, Sir,” Kit replied before walking over to the water where Dan was.

“I promise you he’s not always like this,” Kit stated after seeing the worry in Dan’s eyes. “I was an understudy for one of his other shows. He has a soft side, but it takes him some time to de-stress.”

Dan nodded. “I understand.”

Although he tried to play it off as a causal concern, Dan was worried he’d be cut from the show if he didn’t meet Philip’s expectations the first time around. He wasn’t a big name and it was a miracle for him to have a lead part in a Lester original. He needed this role to launch his career.

Pursuing his dream of acting was a huge risk, and his parents were doubtful of him. They were expecting him to earn money and to start a family in the near future and didn’t believe he could do that by playing dress up on a stage, and Dan needed to prove them wrong.

“What’s going through your mind,” Kit said, interrupting his thoughts.

“This is my first major role, and I don’t want to disappoint anyone,” Dan stated.

“I’m sure you have what it takes,” Kit encouraged. “After all, Philip does most of the scouting for his plays so the chances he picked you himself are high.”

Dan felt slightly reassured by that fact but also intimidated by the idea that Philip had seen him perform before. It had taken him a while to perfect his character and he didn’t want to seem incapable. He just had to hope for the best.

——

It was time for Dan to get on stage and to say he was nervous was an understatement. The actors who were playing the nurse and Lady Capulet seemed nice enough, and had some experience acting.

Philip seemed pleased enough with their performance and only commented on a few minor things throughout the run of the show. When they were done with their scene, Dan was pulled aside by a woman named Louise who needed to take his measurements and have him try on a few pieces of clothing. She led him through the halls of the theatre and into a room that was filled to the brim with various costumes and fabrics.

“I’m sorry it’s such a mess, dear. I’ve been a bit busy these days,” she hummed. “Can you step up onto that stool.”

She had long blonde hair and bags under her eyes. She looked exhausted and Dan wondered how many hours she spent at the theatre a day.

He stepped on the platform and she started measuring him with the tape measure that had been hanging on her shoulders. “You’re very nicely built, but I don’t think I have any previous outfits that would fit you. It’s a shame I’ll have to start this one from scratch,” she sighed. “Now to pick a colour!”

Her excitement was cut short by a knock on the door. “Mrs Pentland, may I come in?” A rough voice sounded from outside the door. Dan recognised the owner to be Philip and started to panic.

“Calm down, now,” she whispered to Dan before directing her answer to Philip. “Yes, come in sir.”

Philip let himself in and looked at Dan with a scrutinising gaze. “I was unaware you had company.”

“It’s no big deal, sir. Daniel and I were just deciding which colour dress he’d be wearing.”

“Ah, I believe you’ll make the right decision,” he said with a nod. He turned to Dan and stuck out his hand. “I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m Philip Lester the director and writer of this play, but you can call me Phil.”

Dan took his hand timidly and shook it. “My name is Daniel Howell, sir. I prefer Dan though.”

“Yes, my Juliet,” Phil stated, making Dan blush. “What got you into acting?”

“Ah, I've always been a fan of the art. My parents took me to a show when I was younger and it’s been my dream to star in one since then.”

“Sounds similar to how I got into theatre although I’m much too shy to be a performer. I’ve always had a knack for writing though. I guess it all worked out in the end.”

“Of course, sir. Someone with as much talent as you is destined to be famous.”

“Can I ask you why you choose to portray women? I know it’s an essential job within the theatre but I rarely meet men who are excited to portray the role,” Phil said, deflecting Dan’s comment.

“I’ve always enjoyed trying on my mother’s dresses and messing around with her makeup. It seems a bit odd, but I like to take advantage of it.”

“I don’t think it’s odd at all,” Phil said with a twinkle in his eye. “I personally believe normalness leads to sadness. Now if you’ll excuse me I have to get back before PJ does anything rash with the scene. I’ll see you on stage, Dan.”

He nodded to Louise and shut the door behind himself on his way out. “See, he isn’t as intimidating as he seems,” Louise chuckled, “Now which colour should we go for?”

——

Dan walked out of the room with a smile on his face and a little more confident now that he could imagine the dress he’d be wearing. He wondered if it’d be made of the same itchy material that the ones for his last production were. He would have liked to imagine that the dress would be made of silk but he didn’t know how much they put towards costumes here.

He was stuck in his own fantasy world when he bumped into someone. He immediately bent down to collect his things with a muttered sorry. A hand touched his and he looked up to see Phil staring back at him curiously. “You’re still here? It’s getting pretty late.”

Dan blushed. “Louise and I got caught up talking about the costumes.”

“Oh, do you have experience too?" Phil asked, handing Dan the things he had picked up.

They both stood up and started walking towards the entrance. They weren’t going nearly as fast as they could have, almost like they had mutually decided that they wanted to prolong their conversation.

“I’ve sewn some clothes before but besides that I don’t have any experience. It’s always been an interest of mine.”

Phil nodded. “I’m sure Louise appreciates the company. I worry she gets lonely sometimes.”

“She sounds like she’s important to you,” Dan hums.

“Ah, she’s a family friend, nothing more. She’s already happily married with two kids. I’m afraid our parents would force us to marry if she wasn’t.”

“Oh, so you're single?”

“Yes. I’ve always been dedicated to my work, and it leaves me little time to meet people. Besides, the women my parents set me up with are unbearable. I assume you’ve got someone. You’re young and handsome after all.”

“No, it’s just me,” Dan answered. If he was being honest, he’d never met a woman he was interested in. He found men more intriguing but he would never admit that. He would eventually be married off, and it was for the best. That was just how it was.

“Oh,” Phil stated, “I thought you’d have women lining up to marry you.”

“My family isn’t the best off,” Dan admitted. “My father owns a small shop but that’s our main source of income right now. I hope to change that with this job. After all, my brother is going to university soon.”

“Ah, university. Those were some of the best years of my life. I miss my professors sometimes. They were always my biggest supporters,” Phil mused.

“That sounds charming. I never got to go, not that I really wanted to anyways.”

“That’s interesting. You took a big risk, unless you have some sort of craft you’ve perfected.”

“My only skills are in business, and I don’t have anywhere near enough money to run my own. Besides, I’m happy with my job right now. I’ve already met some nice people.”

“The cast and crew are exceptionally kind though they can get rowdy, especially when they’re under the influence of alcohol.”

“A lot of men are,” Dan agreed.

They were nearing the main doors, and Dan was surprisingly disappointed for their conversation to end. Phil didn’t bore him to death like the others he’d conversed with, and they actually had a solid conversation.

Dan yawned, startling himself back into reality. “You should head home,” Phil stated. “I hope it’s not too long of a walk to your house. It is quite cold and I can’t have my Juliet getting sick.”

“I’ll make sure to bundle up,” he assured the older man. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Dan.”

——

Dan had been standing in the same spot for the past twenty minutes, and even though he was supposed to pretend that he was chatting with others, he was watching Phil direct Kit and the others around the stage.

Phil looked nothing like the shy, nervous version of himself that Dan’d met. On this stage, Phil looked like he was in his element. His voice was firm, and he commanded the attention of the actors around him.

Everyone was starting to look tired, as they were four hours into practice, and people weren’t putting as much effort into their lines. Phil was clearly starting to get annoyed, as his jaw was clenched and his unoccupied hand formed a fist.

He watched as PJ walked his way and waved him over. “What’s wrong, Dan?” PJ said. The exhaustion was clear in his voice, and he glared at Dan. Dan didn’t take offense, because if he was directing a play he’d probably be glaring daggers at everyone too.

“Phil seems to be getting angry, and everyone is exhausted. Do you think we could take a break? Just for everyone to relax a bit,” Dan pleaded.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea, but I’ve got to see what Phil says.”

“Can you go ask him now?”

PJ nodded and walked over to where Phil was directed and pulled him aside. Dan watched as they interacted, and Phil’s jaw slowly relaxed. He nodded and called out for everyone to take a break.

Dan exited the stage and grabbed his water. It was nearing summer, and it was almost unbearable to work out in the heat. The canopy above the stage blocked out the harsh sun, but the humidity still hung in the air.

“Thanks for saving me.” Dan jumped and looked over to see Phil looking at him with a grin on his face.

“You looked like you were about to murder someone,” Dan stated.

“I might have if you hadn’t asked for a break. I don’t know how difficult it is to stay in a straight line, but the torchbearers could not stay behind each other. We all know that movement causes the audience to get distracted.”

Dan hummed in agreement. “It takes a lot of power not to fidget, but if they’ve been in previous productions then they should know better.”

“Well enough about them. What did you do after practice yesterday?” Phil asked.

“Ah, I just went home and practised my lines. I’ve found that there aren’t many things to do on the weekdays,” Dan explained.

“How about you and I go to the archery range? I try to practise from time to time, but I'm afraid I'm becoming a bit rusty,” Phil suggested.

“I’m not sure. I’ve barely touched my bow since I finished learning how to shoot,” Dan stated.

“Perfect!” Phil exclaimed. “That means we can be horrible together. Now what's your address? I would feel awful if I didn’t give you a ride.”

Dan was still unsure about going to the range with Phil. If he was being honest, he became quite fond of the eccentric playwright and he wasn’t sure if he could risk it. Phil was clearly not interested in men. It was a sin after all. Dan needed to put a stop to his growing crush on Phil, but he couldn't resist the pleading eyes the other man was sending his way. Sighing in defeat, Dan muttered his address to Phil and, with their plans arranged, Phil skipped off with a grin on his face.

____

When Phil had said he would give Dan a ride, Dan had been expecting a carriage, seeing as he was a famous playwright and could afford one. Instead, he was met with Phil and a single horse. He blinked at the scene in front of him, wondering if he was seeing things properly. There was no way Phil expected him to walk. After all, Phil had specifically offered him a ride.

Dan looked up at Phil with a blank expression and realised the man was talking, “much farther away from the theatre than you. Dan are you listening?”

“Yes, yes, of course.”

“Are you okay? You look a bit dazed.”

“I’m just wondering how I’m getting to the range,” Dan stated.

“Oh, you’ll have to ride behind me. You see my brother is borrowing Dante today so this is our only option,” Phil stated. “Unless you want to walk of course.”

Dan knew that Phil had meant the last part as a joke but he seriously considered it. He didn’t know how well he could handle being so close to Phil, especially with his crush on him. He decided that he couldn’t walk seeing as they were in a crowded city which meant the next range was more than a few miles away. “How do I get on then?” Dan stated as confidently as he could.

“Just stick your foot in the stirrup and hoist yourself up.”

Dan followed his instructions, and got up onto the horse. He tried to distance himself from Phil but it caught the attention of the other man. “What are you doing? You’ll fall off if you don’t hold on,” Phil laughed.

“Sorry,” Dan muttered, putting his arms around Phil’s middle.

Phil dug his heel into the horse’s side and it took off down the streets. Dan gripped onto Phil tighter, and watched as the scenery passed by them. He’d only ridden a horse once when he was younger, so to be high on top of one was quite intimidating. “Are you scared?” Phil shouted back.

“No.”

“Ok, Dan, I believe you, but can you let go a bit? You’re suffocating me.”

Dan blushed in embarrassment, loosening his grip. He didn’t mean to hold on so tight, but the speed of the horse had startled him. “Sorry.”

The rest of their ride proceeded with much less awkwardness, and a comfortable silence encompassed them.

When they arrived at the range there were very few people. It shouldn’t have surprised Dan seeing as it was the middle of the day and most men were at work. They went to find a target to practice on and finally settled on one that was positioned on the outskirts of the range.

Dan watched as Phil set his quiver of arrows down in the grass and fiddled with his bow. “Who’s going first?” Phil asked.

“Definitely you,” Dan answered.

“You’re really going to make me embarrass myself first?”

“I don’t want to be the first one to embarrass themselves.”

“Very well then.”

Phil picked up an arrow and positioned himself in front of the target. He stood for a moment, aiming to the best of his ability, and then he let go. The arrow whizzed across the range and hit the innermost white ring. “I thought you were out of practice!” Dan groaned.

Phil smiled. “I promise it’s just luck. Now it’s your turn.”

Phil stepped away and Dan took his place. He picked a bow out of his quiver and aimed at the target. His hands were shaking, and his pulse was racing so he knew he was going to do horribly. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of Phil though, so he took a deep breath and hoped for the best before letting the arrow fly. When Dan looked up he saw the arrow lodged into the outermost ring.

Phil chuckled behind him and Dan spun around at him. “You can’t make fun of me. Unlike you, I was telling the truth when I said I was out of practice,” Dan huffed.

“What? Do you need a quick lesson from the master?” Phil cooed.

“I suppose I could use one,” Dan muttered.

When Dan agreed, he thought Phil would show him how to aim and shoot, but instead Phil came up behind him and handed Dan an arrow. He fit his hands over Dan’s and positioned the bow correctly.

Phil’s hands were slightly cold but his body radiated a comforting heat, and Dan felt warmer just from standing by the other man. Dan's heart was beating rapidly and he couldn’t stop thinking about how compromising the position that they were in was.

“Let go,” Phil whispered, breaking him from his thoughts.

Dan let go of the arrow and watched as the arrow launched into the innermost black ring. “See you've got it,” Phil muttered.

Suddenly realising they were still together, Dan blushed and pulled away to face Phil. “I’m still not as good as you are. Besides you did most of the work that time,” Dan huffed.

Phil grinned, “You’ll just have to keep practising.”

Phil picked up his bow again and quickly aimed the arrow at the target. Dan watched as it flew and hit into the yellow circle at the centre of the target. “Bullseye!” Phil exclaimed.

Dan rolled his eyes. His competitive side was finally coming out. “Ok, Philip. Let’s play ten rounds and whoever gets the most points wins.”

“What does the winner get?”

“I suppose the winner can pick a punishment for the loser.”

“It’s on then.”

——

Dan ended up winning. He was surprised he’d beaten Phil and his years of experience, but when he thought about it, Phil had given Dan a lot of tips during their match. Phil had definitely let him win. “Did you let me win?” Dan scoffed.

“Of course not, Daniel. You won fair and square,” Phil laughed. “You just have to believe in yourself.”

Dan still didn’t believe him, but he wasn’t going to question Phil anymore. “Now, since you’ve won, you have to pick a punishment for me.”

Dan thought about it for a second until his stomach grumbled. He assumed Phil could afford much better food than the stale biscuits and bitter coffee Dan had based his diet on. “I suppose you can buy me dinner. I am quite hungry,” Dan suggested.

“That’s not much of a punishment,” Phil commented

“No, but I’m starving right now so I’ll let it slide,” Dan hummed.

“Alright, I suppose I can treat you to dinner. Is there any specific place you’d like to go?” Phil stated, picking up his quiver.

“No, it’s your choice. I don’t eat out much,” Dan said following the other’s lead.

“Ah, are you a chef?”

“I wouldn’t say that, but I can cook a few meals.”

They walked back to their horse where Phil had put her in a stall. Phil led her out and gave her a few sugar cubes before using the stirrups to pull himself up on the horse. Dan followed suit and they were off again, heading back to the city.

——

Dan didn’t think Phil would take him somewhere fancy but, to his surprise, Phil did. There was a musician playing the piano softly on the stage with tables surrounding the raised platform. Candles decorated each table and customers sat in sharp suits and flowing dresses. “I don’t think we’re dressed well enough for this,” Dan whispered to Phil.

“Sure we are,” Phil stated. “Most of these people are on first dates anyway. They want to make a good impression.”

Dan blushed at the thought of it being a date. Sure he might have had a tiny crush on Phil, but nothing would come of that. Maybe if they were born in a more accepting time but in their day it wasn’t going to be accepted anytime soon.

“Right this way, sirs,” a waiter spoke.

Dan followed the man around the outskirts of the table and watched as they sat the menus down at a table. It was a bit secluded from the rest of the tables, and Dan instantly sighed in relief.

Phil sat across from him and picked up one of the menus so Dan copied him. The writing was riddled with flourishes and Dan couldn’t read it very well. His face heated up. He’d had an education, but it wasn’t one of the best. His parents couldn’t afford to send him off to a fancy private school like the other boys his age.

“What do you recommend?” Dan asked Phil.

“I usually get the chicken, but the lamb is also quite good.”

Dan nodded. “Lamb sounds nice.”

“Yes, the chefs here make the best in the city.”

They sat in a comfortable silence, enjoying each other’s company and the soft melody from the piano, until the waiter came back. They placed their orders and at the end Phil spoke up. “Do you drink?”

“Occasionally,” Dan remarked, “but if you're drinking, I’ll drink with you.”

Phil nodded. “We’ll have two glasses of your best wine then.”

——

They might have had more than just a glass each, and maybe Dan was having a hard time controlling his stupid limbs, but that wasn’t anyone else's business was it? He was using all of his energy not to trip, but it was bound to happen. He never drank so he wasn’t surprised that he was such a lightweight. He didn’t regret it though. He’d had a wonderful night, and it was nice to be free from his nerves for once.

Unlike Dan, Phil wasn’t drunk. At least he didn’t seem to be. He’d had a glass more than Dan but he was perfectly composed and Dan wasn’t sure if it was impressive or not.

Phil was leading him out of the restaurant with his hand clasped firmly onto Dan’s shoulder. They made their way to where the horse was being kept in a small set of stables behind the building. A nice man led the horse out, and Dan looked at it warily. “Do you think you can get up?” Phil asked.

Dan's face flushed red. He definitely could not climb the horse drunk. After all, he could barely climb it sober. “If you can't, don’t attempt it. I need my Juliet to have fully functioning limbs for the play.”

“Then I guess I won’t be getting on the horse,” Dan muttered.

“We can walk then,” Phil stated.

“No that isn’t fair. I can walk home from here and you can ride back to your house.”

“You’re far too drunk to walk home alone. You’d definitely get robbed. I’ll walk you home.”

“What about the horse?”

“She’ll follow us.”

Dan nodded and followed Phil down the road. They were only a few blocks from his house so it wouldn’t take long for them to get there, but Dan still felt guilty for making Phil walk.

They chatted about the play, their holiday plans, and a variety of other things. Dan learned more about Phil’s family which was made up of his mother, father, and his brother, Martyn, as well as his sister in law, Cornelia. Phil seemed to have a strong bond with his family, and, unlike Dan’s parents, his seemed to be supportive of his career.

After around ten minutes they finally stopped in front of Dan’s door. Dan blushed thinking about the times he’d been in this position with the girls he’d courted. He remembered his manners and thanked Phil. “Dinner was delicious. I hope we can hang out again sometime soon.”

“It was my pleasure. After all, I lost our bet.”

“I still don’t understand how that happened,” Dan laughed.

“I told you I was a bit rusty.”

“Yes but your first few shots were amazing.”

Phil shrugged. “I guess it was luck.”

There was a lapse in conversation then, and Dan wasn’t intent on leaving Phil just yet. He must have been more drunk than he originally thought because the next thing he knew he was kissing Phil.

Dan pulled away quickly when he realised what he was doing. He was blushing fiercely and he was internally groaning at his stupidity. He’d risked both of their safety and made a fool of himself. He was likely going to get cut from the cast if not worse.

“I’m going to go in now,” Dan muttered. “Goodbye.”

Dan rushed inside and slammed the door leaving Phil to stare blankly at the spot where Dan had disappeared from.

——

When Dad woke up the next morning he had an awful hangover and an even worse memory of the night before. He didn’t feel like getting himself out of bed but he somehow managed to get himself up. He dragged himself to his wardrobe and threw some clothing on before leaving the house and walking to the coffee place he frequented.

When he stepped in the door he immediately shrank into himself. Sitting at one of the tables was Phil with a newspaper in his hand and a cup of coffee in front of him.

Dan almost snuck out of the coffee shop successfully but then Phil made eye contact with him. Dan had no choice but to stay at the shop. He hoped if he acted normal then Phil would forget everything that happened.

He walked toward the counter and ordered a coffee. When it was done he sat at his normal table in the corner of the room. For a few minutes, Dan watched the people passing outside before he heard a chair scrape across from him. “Morning,” Phil stated, sitting down across from Dan.

“Good morning,” Dan muttered.

“Would you like to talk about last night?”

Dan stared at Phil in surprise. He didn’t think Phil was a very blunt person but he guessed there was no beating around the bush when it came to the kiss.

“I want to apologise-" Dan started.

“No I’m not mad.”

“What?”

“I thought you would catch on eventually but I guess you didn’t.”

“What are you saying?”

“I like you Dan. I know it’s wrong but I don’t think you’re going to judge me.”

“I wasn’t expecting this.”

“You are a bit dense.”

“I am not.”

“Ok, Daniel.”

“Can I ask what made you wait?”

“I had to make sure you weren’t a homophobe. After all, we don’t live in the most accepting age.”

Dan nodded. He wasn’t surprised that Phil was hesitant because of the world they lived in. Honestly, this was a fairy tale come true, but then again, there would never be a fairy tale about two men.

“What do you want to do then?” Dan asked.

“Well I think I’d like to take you on a date.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

[lakesandquarries]

Baby Shoes - Chapter 3

Bubby has been a doctor at Black Mesa for 20 years, living there for 50. He’s been bouncing around from project to project, working on whatever needs most help. He doesn’t have any opinions on his work or his coworkers or anything like that, preferring to keep to himself.

Then he meets Black Mesa’s newest project.

AKA: Bubby is Benrey’s dad au.

title from “Baby Shoes” by Bad Books.

SIDE NOTE please look at this FANTASTIC art by my friend @8redphoenix8​!!!! thank u SO much i love u 

also happy seventh night of hanukkah!!!!

AO3 Link

Dr. Elkern is, apparently, dead set on having Bubby continue work on the arm prototypes. But he does allow them to spend most of their time over in Biological Research, only needing to check on the arm project occasionally.

It’s something. He spends most of his time with Dr. Zeki, who has made her dislike of him quite clear. But she does seem to appreciate a new perspective, even if she ignores it most of the time.

He also spends a fair amount of time with Dekkard - whose first name is apparently Derek - as well. He’s new, fresh out of college, the son of a friend of someone high up. He’s quite forthcoming about his complete lack of qualifications, and fully expects to be fired within the next month.

Dekkard is...refreshing, if Bubby is being honest. He lacks the fear the others in Biological Research have of Bubby, willing to speak his mind and joke around and actually listen when Bubby speaks. Currently Dekkard’s little more than a glorified secretary, keeping track of the various projects happening in the Biological Research Department, who’s working on them, and their schedules. He also makes excellent coffee.

“You should quit,” Bubby says by way of greeting as he approaches Dekkard’s desk. Dekkard spins in his chair, smiling at him.

“And lose all these benefits? Hm, not yet.” He slides a disposable cup over to Bubby, who sips it approvingly. It’s dark, bitter, and slightly burnt, just the way he likes it.

Bubby leans on the desk, nudging the ever-present slinky. “Do you know the agenda for today?”

“Dr. Zeki has four meetings, three of which are back to back.”

A slow smile spreads across Bubby’s face. “That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”

“I’m gonna cover all her stuff in tin foil while she’s busy.”

“Oh, you’ve made it even better.”

“Wanna help?”

It’s tempting. But Zeki being busy means he can see Benrey, actually see them and not just stare wistfully through one way glass.

“Another time, maybe.”

Dekkard nods. “Well. See you around, if I don’t get fired first.”

Bubby nods, tossing his empty cup into the trash. “Good luck with your project.”

He has, somehow, started figuring out his way around Biological Research. The various creatures make good landmarks. Take a left at the carnivorous bees, keep going straight when you see the ice squirrels, and the acid slimes tell you you’re going the right way. The room is blessedly empty, devoid of any scientists besides Bubby himself.

On the other side of the glass is Benrey. Bubby steps closer, placing a hand on the glass, watching them. They’ve barely moved since Bubby first saw them in this cell. The only time they have any sort of reaction is when they’re fed, which happens exactly three times a day. It’s a simple process from the scientist’s end - open door, slide in food, close door - and has given Bubby a very good view of the keypad and the code needed to open it.

He gives a quick glance into the hall before he types the code in. The door opens.

Benrey doesn’t respond to the noise, pale yellow eyes still staring blankly at the floor in front of them. Their skin, already a strangely desaturated shade when Bubby met them before, seems nearly grey now, and the dark smudge around their eyes has darkened like a bruise.

He takes a few steps forward, shoes clacking against the floor. Benrey flinches as much as the chains will allow them to, squeezing their eyes shut tight. Bubby crouches down so he’s roughly eye level with them, a good distance away.

“Benrey,” he whispers.

Their eyes open. Their head shoots up, looking around frantically before realizing where Bubby is. They strain against the chains, trying to move closer, making a faint whining noise when they realize they can’t.

Bubby shuffles closer, reaching a hand out, and Benrey leans into the touch.

“Hello again,” he says softly. “I’m sorry our previous meeting got cut short, and I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to come see you again.”

Benrey makes a rumbling noise, almost - no, exactly like a purr. Bubby has never seen a cat, but he’s seen videos, heard them described, and he’s fairly certain the noise and vibrating are the same. Benrey opens their mouth, those coloured bubbles Bubby saw previously tumbling out, this time a bright yellow. Sweet Voice, Benrey had called it. He reaches out for one, feeling it dissolve in his hand with a wave of pure joy.

Happiness, then. Yellow...a happy fellow?

It astounds him how Benrey can express happiness like this while still chained up, barely able to move.

“I’ve been reassigned,” Bubby says quietly, moving closer and running his hand through Benrey’s hair. “I work here now. Mostly. I’ve been talking to the other scientists, I’m hoping I can...improve things here, at least a bit.”

He gets the impression Benrey isn’t really listening, focused more on the feeling of Bubby’s hand in their hair. Well, that’s fine with him. He moves closer again, close enough to gather Benrey onto his lap, letting them bury their face in his shoulder.

They’re so small.

He spends a few minutes just sitting there, petting Benrey’s hair, the room silent aside from their purring. It’s the closest thing Bubby has had to peace in a very long time.

Eventually, though, he does need to speak again. Zeki may be busy for most of the day, but time is a limited resource here in Black Mesa.

“I had a few questions for you,” Bubby says softly. He doesn’t move his hand away from Benrey’s hair. “How long have you been here?”

They tense up. “Forever.”

“Forever?”

He can feel Benrey nod against his chest. “Basically forever. I’m from somewhere else but I don’t really remember it.”

“Xen?”

Another nod. “The sky was pretty there. Lots of colours.”

Bubby’s only seen the sky in brief glimpses. He’d managed an almost-successful escape attempt once, in his teens, that had him outside in the middle of the night. The sky has been nearly black, but the moon was bright and full and the stars were one of the most incredible things he’d ever seen.

“I think you’ll like the sky here. I won’t - I can’t promise you anything. But perhaps at some point we’ll go see it together.”

It’s a silly daydream, Bubby knows, but it’s one he’s been clinging to over the last few days. As a child he’d dreamt of escaping, going somewhere far away from Black Mesa, living as a regular human being with no tubes or tests. He still dreams of the same thing, but lately, in his daydreams, his home has an additional occupant.

He doesn’t share any of this with Benrey. It’s nothing more than a pipedream, a small fragment of hope, and it’ll do nothing to help them if he makes a promise he’s doomed to break.

“I want to try and make things easier for you here,” he says. “As I said, I can’t make any promises, but I’m going to try. ”

Benrey nuzzles their face into his shoulder with a soft hiccuping sound. “You’re nice,” they mumble.

Bubby huffs. No one has ever called him nice before. He’s capable of being polite, yes, but his temper is well-known amongst Black Mesa staff. His pyrokinesis and accidental habit of setting things on fire when annoyed cemented his reputation. Dekkard is about the only employee that isn’t working on a project with him willing to be around him for more than ten minutes.

Of course, Benrey’s quite different from any of the scientists.

They pull away from his shoulder suddenly, yawning. Bubby is not an expert on teeth, but he’s fairly sure there’s not supposed to be that many.

“Are you tired? Do you need to sleep?”

“I’m, uh -” they bite their lip, face scrunched up with the effort of remembering something. “I don’t need much sleep. Don’t like it.”

“I can stay here while you rest. I’ll need to leave in a bit, but I have…” he pulls his pager out of his pocket, glancing at the time. “At least a few hours. If you’d like to nap.”

“You’ll stay?”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Benrey leans forward again, resting their head on Bubby’s shoulder. “Mmm,” they mumble, more of the sweet voice slipping out, this time a pale, icy blue. When Bubby touches it he’s overwhelmed by the feeling of exhaustion.

It takes Benrey a moment to relax, but eventually they go limp, making small noises in their sleep. It’s - well. If Bubby were the type of person to describe things as cute he would say it was absolutely adorable.

He does, however, wish he’d brought a book.

[aweirdkindofyellow]

The Royal Invitation, Pt.15

Aerowyn Matilde George Rothchester might seem like a very long name, but it definitely is not for a royal in the Kingdom of Dalewin.

After her grandfather, the beloved king, passed away, Aerowyn (also known as Winny) is called back from her art school in New York. She’s thrown back into her royal duties, expected to know what to do.

But with the Royal advisor on tour with the new king, Winny is left to figure things out with his stepson. The only problem, he has no idea what he’s doing, after all he’s only the lead singer in a band.

Co-written story with @scream-tears.

Chapter 15

Winny’s POV:

I stared at Alex for a while. His eyes were shut and he looked asleep, I just needed to be sure that he actually was. When he didn’t even twitch after a few more minutes, I carefully slipped out of my bunk. As soon as I was standing on the floor, I checked up on Alex again, gladly seeing that he still hadn’t moved. I tiptoed over and gently closed the curtain so he could no longer be distrubed by anything that happened in the corridor.

I turned around and went to the next bottom bunk, squatting down so I was face to face with its curtain. As I learned to do, I softly knocked on the plastic board to get the attention of whoever was on the other side. However, I got no response. I rolled my eyes a little and knocked again, a bit louder, but still trying my best not to wake up anybody else around.

When I still didn’t get a response, I sighed and just yanked open the curtain a little. Jack stared back at me like a deer caught in headlights. The only light illuminating his face was coming from his laptop and he was wearing huge headphones. I raised an eyebrow at him, still waiting to get some kind of reaction. When his initial shock wore off, he moved his headphones to free one ear to listen to me.

“Everybody’s asleep!” I whispered.

He didn’t make a sound when he put away his laptop and headphones, only to poke his head out of the bunk and look left and right to see if I was correct. When he saw that I was indeed not lying, he pulled me into his bunk. I was immediately straddling him and I quickly closed the curtain before anybody would wake up and walk past.

“Come here,” he groaned and pulled me down to start a fiery kiss, immediately already tugging at my shirt.

We did our best to be as silent as possible. However, it was inevitable that occasionally a limb or another body part smacked into a wall. That bunk was barely big enough for two people to squish in, let alone to people to get it on. We managed to make it work. And it seemed like nobody had noticed anything. Or at least nobody said anything or gave us any weird looks. Not even Alex seemed to suspect a thing. He just showed up excitedly for our morning walks every day, always expecting me in my bunk.

I couldn’t believe I was saying it, but it was quite a difficult and tiring secret to keep up. Staying up late with Jack just to have to leave before I fell asleep only to have to wake up early-ish in the morning for Alex? Exhausting.

But I was having fun. I was still forever grateful that Alex had made the decision to let me come with him. Even if I was alone for a little while. There were no pressures on me here. I got to do anything I wanted. Rather than jobs being piled on jobs, I now had to actively seek if I could help out anywhere. It was absolutely magnificent.

I was wandering around the backstage area of the arena for the night while world famous rock stars All Time Low were busy doing a whole list of different interviews. You’d be surprised how many interesting things you can find in the deep dark crevices of arenas. Or they were just plain boring. There really wasn’t much of an in between.

I was walking through a hallway and past one of the dressing rooms when my name was called out. “Aerowyn!”

Without thinking twice, I turned around and entered the room, looking up to see Mark Hoppus staring right back at me. It seemed like I had just randomly and rudely walked in. “I’m sorry, I thought I heard my name.”

“Aerowyn,” he repeated.

I shook my head, realising just how big my mistake had been. I tried to act oblivious, like he was saying a word that I didn’t know. “I’m sorry, what?

“You might have been able to fool the others, but you can’t fool me,” he laughed lightly and warmly.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I continued to try and play it off.

If my identity came out, things could go horribly wrong. Maybe not necessarily in the circle of the bands on tour. But it was bound to get out. And if my behaviour or drinking and casually sleeping with Jack came out, it would be a scandal. They were pretty chill in Dalewin, but that didn’t mean everything was suddenly acceptable.

“Oh, come on, I’m not an idiot!” Mark rebutted. “A quick google search into Dalewin was all I needed. I hear about a country I never knew existed, I take time to learn about it.”

He pulled out his phone from his back pocket and tapped a few times on the screen before handing it to me. I looked down at it in my hands and saw a photo of ‘The Royal Family of The Kingdom of Dalewin’. It was a relatively old picture. I was about 16 and looked a lot younger. It was taken for my grandfather’s birthday that year. There was also a picture of the entire family, but this one was just my grandpa, my parents, Gus-Gus, and me. I was wearing some light pink dress that I could still remember to this day. My mom had refused to let me wear it, but my grandpa somehow managed to change her mind. Everybody else was wearing much more sophisticated colours.

I shrugged and went to give the phone back. “I look a bit like her, but that isn’t me.”

“Swipe to the next photo.”

I did as instructed and went to the next photo he had prepared for me. It was one of the photos taken for my dad’s coronation. Specifically one that consisted of just me and Augustus. I couldn’t even try to hide behind the fact that it just looked like me. This was a close up of us. Even the birthmark on my neck was visible.

“Okay…” I nodded. I couldn’t deny it anymore. “That is me.”

“Pretty foolproof cover,” he chuckled as I defeatedly handed his phone back.

“Well, usually it works better when I’m just Matilde George from New York with a funny accent, not Matilde from Dalewin.”

“So hiding your identity is a common occurrence, then?”

“Only when I’m in New York,” I explained and looked behind me when I heard footsteps, but it was just somebody walking past. “It makes studying there just a little easier. Nobody constantly reporting on my every move, or hoping to blackmail me.”

“You seem pretty serious about keeping it a secret.” He frowned, also briefly glancing at the door.

“If Alex were to know that you knew, he’d start forcing me to act normal again.” I sighed and tugged on my hair. “I was hoping to get away from that.”

“Normal?” He raised an eyebrow at me in amusement. “You mean to tell me you don’t usually chug beer after beer?”

“Art student Matilde does, Princess Aerowyn does not.”

“I’m assuming Aerowyn also can’t have that thing going on with Jack and Alex.”

“Thing going on?” I questioned with confusion.

“Don’t act oblivious again.”

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about,” I laughed awkwardly.

I didn’t consider whatever I was doing with Jack a ‘thing’. A ‘thing’ sounded way more serious. Jack and I were only having sex when it suited us, nothing else. And Alex? There definitely wasn’t anything going on there. He was one of the only good friends I had made as Aerowyn in ages. All my friends back in New York loved fun Matilde, not responsible Aerowyn.

“Alright… if you say so.” Mark gave me a very suspicious look.

Before I could assure him there was really nothing going on, Alex came rushing into the room.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over the place for you!!” He exclaimed in relief, coming up behind me.

I looked at Mark with a hint of fear. He had the power in his hands. With just a word, he could ruin it all. Usually, my fate didn’t depend on one person so much. I was very used to having at least a little control. People did help me make choices, and I often did follow them, but I did always have the last word. Unless it was towards my parents or higher ranking royals, of course.

“Matilde and I were just discussing gardening tips with each other,” Mark quickly made up.

“Gardening tips?” Alex looked as puzzled as I tried to be earlier.

“Yep, you know, since she works with horses and stuff…”

“Ah! Right, yes.” He nodded in understanding before directing his next part to me. “I was going to go out for coffee and you’re coming with me!”

“I’m coming with you?” I challenged.

“Yeah, live a little,” he scoffed and pulled on my arm to drag me out of the room.

I made eye contact with Mark one more time and mouthed a ‘thank you’ to him. He responded with a wink and a smile as Alex continued to force me to join him.

[thephantomofthe-internet]

Charming Man

Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 5, 618

Warnings: Cursing, Unwanted Male Advances

Author’s Note: I hit 2K!!! I had no idea I would ever get to such a milestone, much less in such a short amount of time! Thank you to everyone whose joined me on this tour of an ocean of flavor!

Tag List: @hotstuffhargrove @moonstruckhargrove @carolimedanvers @alex--awesome--22 @thechickvic @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @so-not-hotmess @agentsinstorybrooke @sunflowercandie @kaliforniacoastalteens @songforhema @spidey-pal @mickmoon

Steve Harrington was a nuisance. He didn’t know when to quit. If he asked you one more question about the stupid Wham! album, you were going to scream. But there you, with your big, fake smile that made the corners of your mouth hurt, nodding along to whatever Harrington was droning on about. You thought he was still contemplating the choice between the single and the whole record. He had made some comment about only needing the song Careless Whisper off the record and the salesgirl in you had tried to up sell him, suggesting buying the cassette and the single, to ensure that he didn’t need both. It was a terrible idea-singles were in essence, an awful to buy, but so was buying both the full cassette and the single, since it would cost twice as much than just buying the record. But you believed Harrington was just dumb enough to fall for the scheme. You’d gotten smarter boys to buy more than they needed. Last week, you’d been able to convince Keith to buy singles of a bunch of your favourite songs, purely because he was shamelessly trying to impress you. He failed to do so, but you might be getting a mix tape out of it, which wouldn’t be terrible. You collected mix tapes, especially mix tapes about broken hearts or first love. You planned to make an art installation with them, but for now they sat in a shoe box under your passenger seat.

“So, you think I should get the cassette and the single on record?” Steve asked, drawing you out of your thoughts. Your smile dropped slightly, trying to piece together what he was talking about.

You found it fast, nodding too enthusiastically “Yeah! I mean, between you and me, it’s a better deal...” you said, keeping your voice low as if it was a big secret what you were telling him.

“Is it?” Steve asked, crossing his arms over his chest, the record and tape still in hand, each poking out on either side of him. You stifled a yawn, nodding again. You’d been there since seven that morning and the mall was closing in an hour. You were beyond exhausted, but Tiffany Michaels called in sick, again, and so you had to cover again.

“Yeah!” you let your cheery tone fall away a bit, hoping the irritation slipping through would give him the hint to clear off. This interaction had been going on for a half hour now. It had started with him asking for record suggestions, which you took to mean ‘tell me the albums the popular hits on the radio are coming from’ and pattered off the top selling records from memory. You’d sold more copies of Madonna’s Like a Virgin in the past week than you could possibly keep track of, purely because people wanted the album with Material Girl or Like a Virgin or Into the Groove on it. Steve had gotten unsurprisingly interested in the album with Careless Whisper on it, as did most horn dog, wannabe players who came strutting into your store. You were more than happy to sell him the record and get on with your shift, but he wasn’t letting that happen.

“Cause, the full record’s like eight bucks.” He held up the tape “But the tape’s like six, plus three bucks for the single that’s like nine bucks, that’s more than the record.” He grinned, placing the tape on top of the single, handing them back to you as if they were yours.

You felt your face colour, in part because he’d taught you in your lie, but in part because he seemed genuinely proud of that mental math. “You’re...you’re right. I wasn’t thinking, sorry ‘bout that.” You said easily, shrugging as you placed the single back on the shelf and the tape into the plastic shopping basket on your arm. He’d caught you shelving tapes in the easy listening section half an hour ago and you weren’t allowed to shelf while talking to a customer, meaning you were forced to lug them around with you as Steve wandered, asking questions. And those things were heavy all lumped together! There had to be at least a hundred copies of Kate Bush’s Running Uphill and Whitney Houston’s Whitney Houston in your stupid basket!

“It’s cool, no biggie...I think I’ll just get the single, come back for the record if I like the song enough.” He decided with a small nod.

You grit your teeth. You wanted to scream about how singles were a waste of money and how you’d make no money on commission for that. Instead, you nodded “Great! If you just head to the counter, Michelle can check you. Enjoy your record!” you said, turning on your heel and practically rushing out of the stereo accessory section he’d dragged you to. You only had forty minutes to shelf all the tapes on your arm, or else you’d have to stay passed close to do it, which both your closing manager and you would hate.

“Hey, uh wait!” he called, chasing after you. You let out a small sigh, turning back with a painful smile. “I was sort of wondering, well maybe if you’d wanna maybe go out this weekend? They’re showing Dawn of the Dead at the theatre, I’ve heard it pretty good...” he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, eyes drifting to the ceiling instead to yours.

Your brows furrowed. You weren’t expecting this from him. But, of course, he was not the first boy to ask you out while you were at work. It was a distressingly common theme. You assumed that guys liked that you had to be nice to them, or that they didn’t realize that you had to be nice and assumed that you were flirting. “Oh...um I’m working this weekend...” you said, shuffling on your feet. Most of the time, when guys ask you out at work, they seemed so confident and cocky, it was easy to reject them. But Steve looked genuinely nervous and you couldn’t place why.

Steve’s smirk only grew, he leaned in closer, trapping you against a rack of blank tapes “Aw come on, have a little fun,  come out with me instead.” He said. You’d heard this shtick before, Billy Hargrove had tried it on you just a couple weeks prior. Having it come from Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, made you want to puke. Because you knew exactly where he’d been. With Billy, it was unclear; lots of girls lied about what they did and didn’t do with that boy. But everyone knew who did what with Harrington. You weren’t too interested in being put on a list.

“Yeah, I actually need the money so…no.” you replied, pushing out from under his arm and away from him. Steve stumbled back, shocked and a little mortified by how you’d reacted to his flirting.

Steve’s head dropped, his gaze focusing on his scuffed converse before he looked at you again “Yeah...yeah no that’s cool, no biggie. Some other time then...” he said awkwardly, brushing the singular strand of brown hair from his face. You didn’t say anything, what were you supposed to say? That you thought he was a douche and had zero interest in doing anything with him? That kind of language could get you fired. And you needed this job, you desperately needed a car for next year.

“I’ll see you around?” Steve tried awkwardly, his smile turning into a frown fast as you didn’t respond.

“Yeah sure.” You nodded “I gotta go shelf this stuff before the mall closes.” You headed back towards the easy listening section, trying not to cringe at the awkward interaction you’d just experienced. It was so very awkward! It was more fun to reject assholes who treated you like a well dressed object to leer and gawk at. Sam Goody didn’t have uniforms per say, simply a dress code to uphold; it was encouraged to look cool, hip, and young. As long as your shoes were black sneakers, your hair wasn’t fully in your face, and you could see your bottoms under your tiny apron, you were good. Which meant you chose your clothes carefully. Generally, you went with a patterned button down, which you could pop as many or as few buttons on as you want. That meant that you could be remembered by your male and female customers alike could either remember you by your name or as the chick with the great tits. It worked well.

But it also meant that guys like Steve Harrington talked to your chest.          

And it was weird for Steve to talk to your chest! Especially since you and Steve had never had a conversation. Like ever. If you weren’t wearing a nametag, you’d be utterly shocked that he knew your name. Because he was the proverbial king of Hawkins and you were a nobody. Well, a nobody until someone wanted to use your employee discount. Then, suddenly you were the most popular girl in school. Hell, you should’ve gotten a job sooner, maybe you would’ve had a date to the spring formal last year.

Steve did buy the single. Even though he hated singles. Who wanted to listen to one song over and over again? Even if it had a B-side, it wasn’t worth the price. He bought it, he made sure to say that you helped him, and then he left. The mall was closing down, save the movie theatre, and he wanted to get home as soon as possible. That was so embarrassing. He didn’t even know why he tried, it wasn’t as if she had any pretence to him. All the other girls he’d been hitting on that summer were his age, they knew him and his style. They also knew about the most humiliating moment in his life, a lot of them were even there to experience it second hand. But you had only the rumours of his dickish tendencies to go off of. That wasn’t enough for anyone to work with.

But stupid Dustin had gotten it in his head that he had to get a girl, that Robin was the right girl. But Robin wasn’t the right girl, no way in hell. So he went in harder on trying to get a date. Every girl his age got hit on, he’d nearly got his ass beat by Justin Gardner after hitting on his girlfriend in front of him, but how was he supposed to know Justin was dating? Justin was a benchwarmer who couldn’t get a date if he paid them in school. Now suddenly he could get a hottie? Unbelievable.

It didn’t help that Dustin had a girlfriend now. And yes, it was embarrassing that Steve was jealous of a thirteen year old for having a girlfriend, he would never admit it out loud. But even though he didn’t believe that Suzie actually existed, it was slightly annoying that his dorky little friend could get a girlfriend and he couldn’t. He used to be able to get any girl he wanted! What happened? Did Nancy spread a rumour about him that he hadn’t heard yet? Was it because he lost a fight to both Billy Hargrove and Jonathan Byers? Or was it because he wasn’t going to college in the fall?

He was almost certain it was because he wasn’t going to school in the fall.

That and the dorky sailor outfit he had to wear at Scoops Ahoy!

The dumb Dixie cup hat and sailor shirt were totally throwing off his game. That’s why he was looking forward to going to the mall that day, out of uniform, to scope babes. He didn’t have much success, but he was a little bit excited to see you out of uniform. He’d seen you about a dozen times, all while you were at work, leaned over the counter, sometimes chewing on the end of a pen, sometimes laughing with coworkers or customers. You always looked so...well beautiful. He had to see it up close. And you just a beautiful up close, but it was obvious that you were uncomfortable too. Still, you were cute. He wished that you were a year older, that you already had all the context to his life. But what could he do? He wasn’t going back in there, not with you wandering around with your judgy eyes. It would be humiliating.

And he was already humiliating himself enough that summer.

You finished shelving the tapes in record time, mostly because the shop was empty and Michelle was thoroughly annoyed by your usual slow closes. You wanted to do a good job with your work and not rush the job, whereas Michelle just wanted to leave as fast as possible. After Sean, your least threatening manager, locked up the shop, the three of you all headed towards the exit. You rode your bike to work, since your mother almost never lent you the family car, but at night you felt less and less comfortable riding home. Sometimes Sean would offer you a ride, but ever since he and Michelle started hooking up, the rides got less and less frequent and when they did happen, Sean would spend the whole time complaining about the ambiguity of his relationship with Michelle. You didn’t take the rides home too often anymore. Not that one would be offered tonight, Michelle had latched herself onto his arm and had nuzzled so deep into his neck that you wondered if she could even see where she was going.

“You want a ride, Y/N?” Sean called as you exited into the parking lot. Sean’s burgundy pickup truck was parked so close to the doors and your legs were so tired. But taking the ride home meant that you’d either have to sit next to them on the front seat or in the trunk part with your bike. And neither option sounded too much better than peddling home.

“Nah, thanks though, I’d rather ride home.” You said with a smile, heading over to the bike racks and pulling the key out from around your neck and off your head, jabbing it into the padlock and clicking the lock open, wrapping the chain around the neck of your bike.

“You sure? It’s pretty dark already...” Sean replied, looking around the desolate parking lot, more concerned than he really needed to be.

“Baby, she said she’s fine.” Michelle said, resting a hand on his chest. Sean didn’t argue passed that and you turned on your bright bike light, swinging your leg over the seat and propped your foot on the peddle, pushing off.

You sped home, making it back to your house in record time. Your mother had left you a note by the door, explaining that she’d taken your younger sister to ballet class and she’d be home late. You crumpled up the note paper, tossing it into the waste paper bin by the powder room door, climbing the stairs and heading into the bathroom, turning on the hot water in your tub and letting it start to fill up. You were rifling through the pile of magazines next to your bed, trying to find the latest issue of cosmo you’d nicked from the corner store just a couple days ago.

Across town, Steve was hiding in his room. His father had ripped him a new one. Again. Turns out, his sailor suit was still laughable a month in to him having to wear it. He still wasn’t over the fact that Steve hadn’t gotten into college and he couldn’t get a better job than ice cream scooper part time. His standards of jobs in Hawkins was a bit too high, in Steve’s opinion. Still, his degrading of him at every turn was getting exhausting. He flopped on his mattress pitifully.

“This whole summer has been a nightmare…” you both muttered, you as you slipped into the steamy water, Steve as he kicked off his thick white socks.

Working at Sam Goody had many perks, like not having a stupid uniform and not smelling like spoiled food all the time, but you spent your time surrounded by assholes. You wanted to meet one nice guy. One guy who didn’t leer down your top and talk to your tits, who didn’t smirk at you or call you ‘baby’, ‘sugar’, or ‘honey’. Just one descent guy who’d treat you like a person instead of a sex doll. God, you would’ve said yes to Harrington if you weren’t working, at least at first. Once he pulled the macho, ‘I know you want me baby’ shit you were out completely. But for a second, when he was rambling on about Dawn of the Dead, you felt like you could stomach a night out or two with him

Meanwhile, Steve just wanted to feel like himself again. His whole last year of high school had been hell on his confidence. First, Nancy dumps him, then Billy Hargrove takes over his team and steals all his friends, then he didn’t get into college, and then Scoops Ahoy? It was all too much. He’d never felt like a loser in his life. He used to be liked, he used to be popular. And yeah, being popular didn’t really matter anymore, but for one last summer before everything changed on him, he wanted to be someone again. Just for a minute. And maybe that’s why he was acting like such an asshole. Because he needed some control over his life. He wished he could’ve gotten in under control when he was talking to the pretty girl in the record store, he made himself into such a douche. That wasn’t who he was, but she didn’t know that. God, he wanted to curl up into a ball and die.

You turned your head up to the ceiling, letting your sweaty neck stick to the cold tile behind your head. You didn’t want to go to work the next day, at least you had the morning shift. Tracey Lords would hopefully make into her shift that day. She hated opening shifts, so the pair of you often traded. You’d still have to stay behind if you got a bit of a rush, which you were expecting. Tomorrow was Friday, when the buses filled with the townies from the neighbouring towns and cities, all coming to bask in the free A/C and glorious shopping experiences. You hated Fridays, they always brought in the worst types of people, mostly shoplifters, who totally ruined your sales for the week. You vowed to stop stealing magazines from the Pick n’ Save after you saw your commission rates plummet after last Friday and a terrible group of greedy kids stole up your section.

Steve really didn’t want to go to the mall at all the next day, if only because he didn’t want to see you in his stupid sailor and hat, walking around like the geek of the week. He just wanted to hide away every shift. But the malls back hallways didn’t lead to any bathrooms, so he was forced to wander the mall like an idiot every time he needed to alleviate himself. He didn’t want you to see him like that. His confidence was already so low, he didn’t need to crumble up what was left of it.

Steve fell asleep that night with dreams of a face, undefined beyond a set of eyes, a nose, and a wide smile. No matter what he said in the dream, the person, a girl his dream decided for him, just smiled and laughed. The eyes were so deep and wide, they took up most of his memory of the dream, although he couldn’t even really place the colour of them, just that they looked at him so lovingly. The way he longed for someone to look at him. He woke up the next morning still in his sailor suit, with the eyes following him to work.

Across town, you woke up from a deep, dreamless sleep. You woke up well rested for the first time in weeks, it was as though someone slipped a sleeping pill in your bath water the night before and it sent you crashing into the pillow with your whole body ready and willing to sleep. You went into work happier than ever, high on the endorphins a good night’s sleep gave you.

Both you and Steve left for work at the exact same time that morning, unaware of your paths even crossing. You headed upstairs to meet Toby, who had the keys to unlock the store, and set to work straightening up the shop and opening your register for the day. Kim Rein sauntered in twenty minutes late, fifteen minutes before the mall opened and you tried not to give her too much side eye. Steve started his own open a level below, restocking cones and cups and filling his soap and sanitizer buckets under the counter.

Once the mall opened, you suffered through four hours of stupid people with stupid questions about terrible albums. You sold three copies of Kate Bush’s Running Uphill, which was an accomplishment for you, since her last album was the only popular due to the hilariously weird Wuthering Heights. You were bored by two in the afternoon, when Toby finally sent you on break. All you wanted was a damn Orange Julius and you’d pay any amount for one.

Likewise, Steve was very much over his shift around the same time when Robin finally agreed to let him go on his damn break. He just needed to get out of the stupid shop. He was going to go to the cheap vending machine, the one by the cafeteria bathrooms, to get a can of Coke. Both of you headed into the shopping mall, trying to avoid anyone you knew.

Unfortunately, you ran directly into Tommy Hanson.

Tommy Hanson was an asshole and a bully. He didn’t know how to treat anyone decently.  He stepped all over people. Was it any wonder that Carol broke up with him at least twice a year? It just so happened that Carol dumped him during the summer.

And now he was standing in front of you, blocking your way to the sweet, sweet Orange Julius.

“Y/N, baby, looking foxy as always.” He said, running his tongue over his upper lip. He’d stolen that look from Billy Hargrove and it didn’t work for either of them.

“Tommy.” You replied, skirting passed him and into the short line, keeping your eyes on the board above the shop.

“Why you rushing off, baby?” he asked, following behind you “I just wanna talk for a second…” you didn’t reply, ignoring him as best you could. ”You’re stunning, you know that? Absolutely gorgeous…” his eyes ran over your body like a tongue; his gaze was thick and hot, it made you want to cringe and pull away.

“Thank you.” You said shortly, getting to the front of the line and ordering quickly.

“What’d you say we go into the back, fool around for a bit?” he asked in your ear. You grimaced, glaring at him before moving out of the way for the next person.

“Don’t make me puke, Hanson.” You snapped, grabbing your blended drink from the poor server having to watch the scene going on between you and Tommy.

“Aw come on, don’t be such a bitch, Y/N.” Tommy whined, grabbing your drink from your hands “You know you want to...”

You reached for your drink, but Tommy just pulled it away. God, he was such a damn child. “Tommy, give me back my drink.” You said sternly.

“Come with me, I’ll give it back when we’re done, you’ll need it more then anyway.” He replied cheekily.

Steve saw this scene going down from the vending machine. He contemplated going over there when Tommy first walked over; he knew that the guy had gotten pretty scummy since he started hanging out with Billy. But when he starting grabbing things from you and taunting you, Steve couldn’t help but go over there.

“Dude,” Steve said, grabbing the drink out of Tommy’s hand, hovering over him. “You wanna try to get a decent personality?”

You looked between the pair of them, trying to decide if you could run off while they were arguing. But you paid good money for that drink and you really wanted it. You realized quickly that Tommy wasn’t going to let this go, and you really couldn’t stand the kid as is. You made your move fast.

“Steve!” you gasped with a shrill giggle “There you are!” you walked over to him, taking the drink he offered shyly and wrapping an arm around his waist. “So are you gonna take me out this weekend or not?” you asked, batting your eyelashes up at him. Steve looked utterly startled, but he didn’t react poorly.

“Course, darling...” he cooed. Steve could’ve died; you made such a disgusted face at the nickname he would’ve happily melted into the tile and be mopped up by Larry the janitor. But you didn’t pull your arm away.

“Walk me back to work?” You asked sweetly. Steve nodded, not trusting himself to not say anything embarrassing. You waved to Tommy, letting Steve lead you away from him, taking a long sip from your drink. It was already melting, but it was still sweet and cold, so you didn’t mind. And Steve had helped you out, although somewhat unwillingly, which was certainly an improvement.

Steve looked back only once, but the look on Tommy’s face was priceless. He looked so annoyed and more than a little broken up about his snatching away of you. His ego hadn’t been this inflated since October of last year. He felt like he was on cloud nine, like he was finally himself again. And even when you let him go, he still felt good about himself.

“Thanks for the help, Harrington.” You bit out once you were far enough away from Tommy.

“Sure, no problem. You want me to walk you back upstairs or are you good?” Steve asked, cracking his can of New Coke. He didn’t love New Coke, but it was all the vending machine was serving and he was just desperate enough to drink it.

You sighed “No I’m alright, I’m still on break, so I’m just gonna go hide somewhere.”

“You can hide at Scoops.” Steve blurted. He mentally kicked himself in the ass, it was such a stupid idea. The upstairs stores had break rooms, you didn’t need to hide with him.

You raised an eyebrow, watching him carefully. Steve swallowed, finishing the thought “The place is busy enough as is and if Tommy walks in, well he already thinks something is happened with...us, he won’t try anything else.”

“Won’t your boss get mad if I’m in there, not eating ice cream?” you asked.

“Oh he’s never here. Me and Robin have keys so we switch between opening and closing. You’re totally good.” Steve explained, scuffing the toe of his shoe into the ground, making a black mark on the white and teal tiles.

“Robin...like Robin Buckley?” you asked, stopping dead in the middle of the hall.

“I think that’s her last name?” Steve replied, scrunching up his face in thought.

“Oh I can’t. She hates me. My friend Tammy told everyone in our sophomore year history class that she was weird and avoided her for like a month. I didn’t do shit, but you know, loyalties and shit.” You explained, running your hands through your hair, slightly embarrassed by the memory.

Steve thought for a moment, an idea slowly coming into view. “She won’t even know that you’re there, come on!” he said, grabbing your hand and dragging you off. You gasped, laughing as you ran to keep up with him.

Steve dragged you through the back halls and rooms leading behind the shops. You hadn’t been through the lower level’s back halls and they were much more expansive that the upstairs halls. The whole space still felt eerie, but much cooler than the upper level. Steve pulled you into one of the rooms and you spotted the nautical theming of the shop. Steve rushed and shut a divider themed with dark wood and glass bricks.

“There, she won’t know that you’re here and you can hide from Tommy. Easy.” Steve said proudly, hopping up on the ledge.

“Can’t she hear you talking to someone?” you chuckled, pulling out the awful plastic folding chair and sitting down.

“Eh, we’re busy enough for her to not notice or care. Probably think I’m talking to myself or something.”  

You leaned back in your chair, letting the front legs of the chair raise into the air as you crossed your arms over your chest. “You talk to yourself a lot, Harrington?” you asked cheekily.

Steve shrugged “Only when I’m really trying to break something down.” He replied. You were surprised and a little refreshed by the honesty. You didn’t expect him to be honest with you; you expected him to lie or try to pull some cool line. It was nice that he wasn’t trying so hard.

“What about you? I bet you’re the stone silent type, keeping it all inside.” Steve added, leaning his elbows on his knees.

“You’re not wrong...” you grinned, cocking your head to the side. You let the front legs drop back down to the ground with a tinny smack, your arms unfurling themselves to balance yourself. “But I sing to myself all the time.”

Steve’s grin turned lopsided and you wondered what exactly what was going through his head. “Really?” he asked.

“Yeah...I find it calming. It helps me to focus my mind, sometimes it just a singular line of a song, over and over again until I get whatever I’m trying to do done.”

“Doing a lot of singing nowadays?”

You sighed “Pretty much...you doing a lot of talking?”

“All I do is talk now.”

You nodded to yourself, forcing the chair to turn towards Steve and centring yourself on it, resting your arms on your knees and looking up at him. “Alright, what’s happening with you?” you asked.

Steve turned away slightly “Ah geez...I mean haven’t you heard? I’m like the only guy who didn’t get into any colleges. I’m stuck here for another year, working and trying to get my shit together.” He ran his fingers angrily through his hair, ripping at the strands as if they hurt him personally.

“I mean...that fucking sucks. But you’ll be okay.” You replied “I mean, look on the bright side, you have another year to be something else.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, furrowing his brow.

“You get a fresh start in a world you already know. You don’t have to be the jerk everyone in school knew you as. And you don’t have to mope around either. You can just be...you.” You smiled to yourself over that answer. Steve had given you a hard puzzle to solve, and while you couldn’t solve it for him, you were glad to have an answer at all.

Steve chuckled, although he wasn’t sure why, nor did you. “Oh yeah? And who is me?” he asked.

You shrugged “I have no idea. I don’t think most people do.”

Steve’s expression changed to one you couldn’t read. He nodded to himself, leaning back onto the glass. He let out a deep sigh “Honestly? I don’t even know anymore...” That wasn’t a shock to you, but you didn’t say that out loud. Steve cracked a smirk “Who did you think I was?”

“Oh...I have no idea.” You leaned back in your chair, letting out a big breath “I didn’t really know you, just your reputation. I only knew the bad stuff, which made you seem like an asshole.”

Steve’s smile dropped and he looked away “Yeah...you aren’t the only one who thinks that...” he admitted sadly.

“But...I mean I didn’t have any proof till yesterday. That guy was a real asshole.” Steve’s face dropped further, but you didn’t try ease the blow you’d just sent him.

“Yeah...I’m sorry ‘bout that.” He muttered, looking up to finally meet your eye.

You nodded, sighing softly “It’s alright, no biggie. I get it now.” You said.

Steve found a small smile again “What do you think of this guy?” he asked, unashamed of the slightly embarrassing question.

You placed a finger on your chin, raising your eyes to the ceiling to truly think. “Hmm...I think I like this guy better.”

Steve smirked “Yeah?” he hopped off the ledge, inching towards you. You didn’t move, watching him stalk over to you.

“Just a little...” you pinched your finger and thumb together, showing an inch in between. “I’d like you more if you wore normal clothes.” Steve rolled his eyes, his hands coming cautiously to your face, pulling it up to kiss you. You didn’t resist his grab, easing yourself out of the chair, shoving your hands into your back pockets.

“Alright, what the hell is going on in there?!?!” The divider slammed against its sleeve violently and Steve snapped his head around. Robin was staring at you incredulously. She looked more than a little furious, but it melted away when you met her eye.

“Oh god, really dingus? Her?”  Robin scoffed. Steve merely shrugged, turning his attention back to you without a word.

“You mind shutting the divider, Buckley?” you asked “Harrington’s a bit busy...” you grabbed his fake tie, pulling his lips to yours, the sound of the divider slapping shut the only sound left in the room.