#unless it was a really bad pun and he was saying goodnight

[lizadale]

Ok I'm on anon because it's 10 pm when I'm sending this but a comment from Random Mario made me think about this. So, Gooigi was made from ectoplasm mixed with green coffee. He's shaped like Luigi from data gathered from the pixelator, and is tested through time travel happening within the time periods of LM1 and the 3rd of 5-6 sections of LM2/Dark Moon. The pixelator can likely contain data from both living, nonliving, and dead things. Did it pick up the Chaos Heart? Does Gooigi have one, too?

omg I never actually thought of this, which is crazy because I did have the notion that Gadd would definitely try to pixelate the Chaos Heart out of Luigi and Dimentio would throw hands with him about it. I don’t think the Heart would pass through Luigi into anything else, though, especially like...as a data capture. Any computer trying to contain it as data would probably explode. And it wouldn’t have shown up in Luigi’s DNA either, so Gooigi is safe.

I had to really think about that for a second, that was scary

The real question might be................what happens if you give the Chaos Heart coffee.........

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 9

Masterlist

As always thank you to my beautiful bestie @acollectionofficsandshit you can also thank her for all the Max content in this chapter. Its a long one, enjoy!

Word Count: 9.6k

Recommended song: “Hate the way” by G-Easy and blackbear

The one thing that never failed to lift your spirits was your dad's homemade blueberry chocolate chip pancakes. Whenever you were upset as a kid, whether it be your team losing a sporting event, your high-school boyfriend dumping you for the head cheerleader, or getting rejected from an ivy league college you never expected to get into in the first place, his pancakes had been there to cushion the fall. Clever as he was, he always messed them up in some insignificant way like leaving off the whipped cream and hiding the container so you were forced to talk to him in order to remedy it. Then he would crack some stupid joke or cheesy pun that would just barely have the ghost of a smile curling your lips.

Blueberry chocolate chip pancakes were no match for the heartbreak of losing your best friend.

The morning after, you only trudge to the kitchen when your stomach's demands to be fed become too loud to ignore. A steaming pile of fluffy pancakes sits at your usual spot, no syrup in sight. You don't have the energy to find your dad and ask where he's hidden it, instead picking at them. You knew the flavor should be fruity and sweet but every bite tastes like ash. One pancake is all you can manage before nausea roils, threatening to make your meager brunch resurface. 

"Some is better than none," Ben murmurs behind you and you drop your chin in the barest of nods. "We can save the rest and you can warm them up later."

"Thanks," you mumble when he takes your plate. You pull your blanket tight around your shoulders as your gaze turns to the window while your brother washes your dishes, wishing for all the world that you could make your uncooperative limbs move and help him but the mental effort it requires is too taxing. Instead you stay curled up on the chair, the noises of the house waking up around you a dull buzz in your ears. At some point your mother kisses your head and hustles out the door to work, her husband close behind. Ben is the last to leave and is reluctant to do so.

"Promise you'll text me if you need me," he says. "Mom already gave me permission to cut class after trigonometry."

"Sure." You both know it's a lie and a bad one at that. Your voice is dull and flat, completely void of emotion. 

"Mom said she's coming home early anyway,” he tries. “Something about overstaffing at the greenhouse."

"Okay."

The mechanical spooling of the garage door tells you he's finally gone. Your elbows slide forward until your head rests on the table, unable to hold it up any longer.

Every fiber of your being yearns for him, to hear the distinct r's and flowery lilt of his accent as he comforts you through the heartbreak, always knowing exactly what to say. It was second nature to call one another when either of you had had a bad day or a good day or just a normal day - you'd talked so often that last year you had convinced your parents to add international minutes to your phone plan. 

Your fingers itch to dial the number you had long since memorized, knowing it would ring no more than twice before he picked up. He never let it go to voicemail unless he absolutely couldn't avoid it and you had a hunch he was waiting for your call.

Despite knowing better, you scroll through the messages on your phone. Love was evident in each witty remark and wish goodnight, pulling at your heartstrings. Your finger hovers over the delete conversation button, and after a minute of debate, you can't bring yourself to do it. You would allow yourself one reprieve to look back on and remember the good.

It would be so much easier if he had given you a reason to hate him. If he'd cheated or intentionally led the media to your house, hating him would be easy. You wouldn't have to admit that you still loved him because his betrayal would have yanked out the newly blooming bud of love you nurtured and crushed the fragile petals. Instead, you were left knowing that it had been your choice to inflict damage in him. You had no right to seek comfort in his arms or even ask how he was doing. You deserved to be miserable for causing him to feel the same way. 

Yuki is the first to check in on you. You don’t know what he expects; you lie through your teeth when you tell him you were fine.

The press is asking me for my thoughts. No idea why. I told them not to stick their noses where they don't belong.

At least someone had the guts to stand up to those bloodsuckers. Yuki was the last person you'd suspect to do so, but the scrappy twenty-something continued to surprise you.

Thanks, you type back. How is he?

You hesitate. You didn't really want to know the answer. Pierre was devastated and just as broken as you are. You delete the last part and opt to refrain from subjecting yourself to biting off more than you could chew.

I'm here if you need me, is Yuki's reply.

Charles, Daniel, and his newly promoted girlfriend were the next ones to text you, all offering varying degrees of support. Daniel's friend was the one that offered to sucker punch anyone that came near you without your permission, and actually dragged a single huff of laughter from your aching lungs.

I'm good thanks. But if I need a bodyguard you'll be first on the list.

Just because Daniel can lift me with one arm doesn't mean I'm not punchy!

I believe you.

Spent, you set your phone down and retreat under the down comforter. The bright pink clashed with your earthy decor, but at least the old blanket didn't smell like Pierre. Your mother had taken it upon herself to erase all trace of him from your room when she had managed to coax you into a shower, and the half hour you had spent letting the scalding water run over your skin had given her plenty of time to do so. The absence of him hurts almost as much as the trace of cedar you know you're imagining when you breathe deep.

It has to be impossible for so much agony to be contained in your body. No matter how much you try, the tears won't stop flowing because Pierre's crushed expression had taken up residence at the forefront of your consciousness. 

It didn't help that so many of your recent memories were touched by his presence. Getting into university served to remind you of the ecstatic call you'd gotten after his race that Sunday, voice strained with a mix of excitement for you and the disappointment of his race ending crash on the opening lap. Even something as simple as staring at the saggy bean bag chair in the corner brought back the memory of the countless times he had lounged there, sprawled out like he owned it.

Max's text brings you briefly back to reality.

You doing okay? Dan told me what happened.

No, was all you say back. Within a minute, Max's face occupies your screen. You sigh but accept the call, laying the phone on the pillow.

"I don't feel like talking, Max."

"That bad huh?" He asks, concern lacing his usually chipper voice.

"Yeah. That bad." As if that summed up getting your heart torn to shreds.

He's uncharacteristically quiet for a beat. "Wanna hear about Vic's day? She had some crazy clients at her salon- it'll take your mind off it."

"I guess," you say, utterly nonplussed. You could care less if he kept talking or not, you wouldn't be paying attention. He prattles on for a few minutes, seemingly unaffected by your silence as his words pass through one ear and out the other.

"Told you it was crazy," he says finally, your cue to respond. You hum noncommittally and Max just sighs.

"Look, I don't know how I can help you unless you come here. I know you have a flight booked- do you still wanna come to the gala? My date's been stolen so I'm in need of one."

"Who stole your-"

The realization hits you before you can finish. Pierre. Pierre stole Max's sister and left him without a date. Something about his willingness to replace you so quickly rubs you the wrong way. It shouldn't have been so easy for him to find someone new; he should be hurting just as much as you. Fundamentally, you knew nothing would happen between Pierre and Victoria. She wouldn't go for him out of respect for both of you and you were thankful in the knowledge that it was completely platonic. Still, it was like rubbing salt in a wound. 

"You know what? I'll go." It was the most you'd said all day, your throat scratchy with disuse. Max whoops on the other line and you could almost see him punching the air in victory.

"Great! When's your flight get in? I'll bring the Acura and pick you up." 

You put him on speaker and login to the airlines website to punch in the flight number. Last night you'd debated canceling the flight that Pierre had paid for, determined to stay home and be miserable. Looking back you were glad you'd trusted your gut and left the reservation untouched. If he could find someone else to attend the gala with, so could you. "I land in Nice at noon on Friday. It'll be a short flight, I can text you when we take off."

"Sounds good. I'll set up the spare room for you. Victoria is staying here too, I'm sure she would love to help you get ready and do whatever it is girls do before fancy events."

"Hey, Max?"

"Whats up?"

You trace patterns through the condensation left by the glass on your nightstand. "Thank you. For understanding."

"That's what friends are for," he assures you. "Is there anything you wanna talk about now? Or are you planning to wait until you're here?"

"Ben's been keeping an eye on me. I'm okay for now." Better now that you had something to look forward to.

"All you have to do is call," he promises. "I'll listen, I don't have anything going on this week besides streaming."

You latch on to the small redirection and run with it. "You and the twitch quartet?"

"They've been kind enough to allow me to join them on the sim this week, yeah."

"I'll try to catch a race. No promises though." 

"See you Friday. Try to contain your excitement."

Your lips twitch upward. "Bye Max."

**********

The rest of the week was more of the same. You stayed home and your family dealt with the swarms of people that still gathered on the lawn each morning not so patiently waiting for you to tell your side of the story. You had decided that the best course of action was to keep your mouth shut and let them figure out for themselves that there was no longer a story to report thanks to the wedge they had driven in your relationship.

By the time Ben drives you to the airport Friday the buzz has died down. You hug your brother tight before checking in for the flight and texting Max. His response is immediate, letting you know he's excited to see you.

You wish you could return the sentiment. You wanted to see your friend, sure, but you were beginning to dread the upcoming gala. Max would be your crutch and you knew he was okay with that, but it still felt wrong. 

Unlike your brother, Max was waiting at the curb when you arrived in Nice. A nondescript cap was perched on his head, the oversized sunglasses he wore hiding his eyes from passersby. His gleaming orange peel of a car attracted more attention than he did for once, people stopping to ogle the Acura as they came and went.

"Hey you," Max greets, a broad grin causing his trademark dimple to appear as he wraps you in a rare hug. You cling to him, throat going tight at the intimacy of it. Max wasn't a physical person by any stretch; if he was hugging you this tightly it meant he knew how broken you were.

He waited for you to break contact first, giving you all the time you need. You sniff and wipe the single tear that had somehow escaped and laugh lightly.

"Hey," you say, voice scratchy. "Thanks for picking me up." 

He waves a hand, brushing it off. "Vic wanted to come but she changed her mind when I told her I was driving."

"Probably a smart choice," you observe, letting him pop the trunk- which was in the front of the car, since the Acura NSX was a mid-engined beast of a Japanese supercar- "and considering your choice of car, she wouldn't have fit anyway."

"This is true." He starts the engine, the roar of which makes a poor old woman a few yards away drop her purse.

The drive back is near silent, broken only by Max's occasional quips about a landmark or an observation about someone's driving. It was impossible for any driver to turn off the analytical part of their brain, their Formula 1 habits crossing into their daily lives. 

When Max parks at the curb outside his apartment, you move to open the door but he hits the lock button. You glance over your shoulder at him and quirk a brow.

"Am I your prisoner?"

"Are you gonna talk about what happened?"

Sighing, you sink back into the seat. The way the bolstering hugs your sides almost makes you believe you could fade into it if you try hard enough. "I wasn't really planning on it."

It had only been a handful of days since you had broken it off, the wound still leaking fresh blood when you poked at it. It refused to scab over or give you any kind of reprieve from the torture.

"You know you'll have to face him tomorrow at some point. He'll want to talk to you."

"That's why I'm going with you. You won't have a problem telling him to leave me alone."

Max sighs. "Yeah, I suppose. If that's what you think is best."

The trudge up the stairs and subsequent silent elevator ride allows your thoughts to wander to Victoria. It wasn't her fault that Pierre had asked her to come with him after you'd canceled, after all she was already planning on going and the late notice meant it was likely no one else could make it, but it didn't stop the pang of jealousy that rocketed through you each time you ruminate on it.

It didn't help when she wrapped you in a hug the moment she saw you and whispered an apology in your ear, like she knew she'd done something wrong. Tears spring to your eyes again and Victoria shoots Max a leave us alone look.

"Uh, I'm gonna hop on the sim. Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge if you're hungry."

"Thanks Max." Your eyes are pinned to a smudge of dirt on the wood floor, safely out of range of anything triggering. Keeping it together was more of a struggle than you'd expected.

"I hope you don't hate me," Victoria starts genuine concern lacing the words. "It was just easiest-"

"I know," you cut in. "And I don't." Your smile is tight, not quite hitting home as she returns it.

"Well then. Let's figure out how we're gonna do your hair tomorrow, shall we?"

**********

The dress was a single, simple piece of fabric, spun of sunset orange and free of any bells or whistles. The feather light chiffon hugged every supple curve through your hips until flaring out slightly at the bottom just enough to allow you range of motion. The deep vee of the neckline prominently displayed your cleavage, toeing the line between attention grabbing and scandal starting and leaving little to the imagination. The back dropped low, leaving the elegant curve of your spine free to be kissed by the salty Mediterranean breeze.

The dress is nothing special compared to the thousand dollar pieces that the other boy's dates would be wearing, but you didn't have the money- or the will- to find something new. It by no means broke the bank when you picked it up from the second hand store last year, but it looked the part. It had been a showstopper at the spring formal you'd originally worn it to and judging by Max's reaction, it still was.

He let out a low whistle when you stepped into the living room. "I'm sorry, did you pick that out with me in mind?" He laughs and despite yourself, heat rises to your cheeks. You hated being the center of attention, even among friends. "It's the perfect shade of orange to match my tie. I swear I didn't plan it that way!"

"I know you didn't." You give him a forced smile, praying he doesn't call you out on it. The dress you wore hadn't been your first choice. The one you originally planned to wear still sat in your closet at home collecting dust. It had been the perfect shade of blue to compliment Pierre's sky eyes, but it didn't match Max's deeper ocean blue. So at home it had stayed, and you had chosen the orange one because it made the necklace at your throat pop.

Your fingers engulf the stone before you can stop yourself, as they always do when your thoughts wander to him. Him, because you could scarcely think his name before your heart wretches at the reminder of what you'd lost. Flashes of bright smiles and soft kisses filter through your mind, making you lock up. You swear you can feel the ghost of plush lips to your throat and the scrape of callouses over the curve of your spine. Your eyes fall shut, desperate to get lost in the idea of him like you used to.

"You good?"

Max's quiet words startle you back into the present. No, you were in no way shape or form good, but you had no choice to fall back on the familiar mask of humor to cover up your inner turmoil.

"The real question is are you?" You smirk and look him over. The Red Bull navy suit strains over his broad shoulders, suggesting he had put on muscle since the last time he'd been forced into it. "You look stiff as a board in that tux."

"I feel so awkward." He straightens the suit coat and absentmindedly lifts a hand to tousle his hair. You grab his wrist just in time to keep him from ruining his sister's hard work and shoot him a chiding look. He grins sheepishly and lowers his hand.

"Vic would kill me if you got to the gala looking like you got run over." 

"That's a good point." He offers you his arm and you accept the lifeline he unwittingly offers you. "But I refuse to leave the windows up on this beautiful night, so we'll test how well it'll hold."

You quirk an eyebrow at him. "You're driving us there?"

"Well duh. I always drive when I'm at home."

You glance sidelong at the glaringly orange Acura parked at the curb a few floors below. Your dress would blend right in with the paint, but perhaps that was a good thing. It would provide that much more of a shock factor when you arrived and stepped out.

"Just don't crash out on the hairpin," you tease half heartedly. 

He rolls his eyes. "At least it's just the two of us so I don't have to call an uber. Vic's getting picked up by-'' Max cuts himself off and gives you an apologetic smile.

"You can say his name," you whisper, eyes trained on the tile of the hallway as you walk. "It's not like he's gone."

"Getting picked up by... Pierre," Max tries, carefully monitoring his neutral tone. God, you thought you could handle it but you can't, stumbling over your own feet with only Max's grip on your arm to catch you.

He'd dance with Vic tonight, and probably countless other women, his hands drifting over their bodies like they'd done on yours only days ago. You'd be forced to watch from the sidelines and make small talk that no one would remember come morning, utterly unable to do anything about it. At least Daniel’s girlfriend would be there to be the voice of reason, if you could peel her away from Daniel long enough to speak with her for any length of time.

Max was uncharacteristically quiet on the ride to the venue, leaving you to study the city as he drove. Few yachts were left in the harbor as the sun was swallowed by the sea, the owners undoubtedly set sail for a weekend getaway. Your gaze involuntarily searched for the slip that held Charles' Ferrari red speedboat that you'd visited countless times with Pierre. The eyesore was hard to miss when surrounded by its monotone brethren, memories flooding back in droves at the sight of it.

Sighing, you turn away to glimpse what you can of the city through the ridiculously tiny sliver of windshield. How anyone could confidently drive the Acura while having so little field of vision was beyond you. It was probably second nature to Max, who weaves through the narrow streets with practiced ease and barely lets off the gas through the corners. 

The city of Monaco rarely slept, and tonight was no different. Soft yellow fluorescent glow seeps from high rise balconies, the occupants soaking up the last dregs of sunlight before heading out to the casinos and clubs. People spilled out of cafes onto the sidewalks, their laughter lingering on the breeze as you speed past.

The list of people you trust enough to get in the car with and let them drive with such intensity is short: Max and Pierre. Not even Daniel made the final cut, not when his then not-girlfriend had recounted the tale of him losing the rear of his McLaren 570s at a track day and nearly sending them into the wall. According to her, he'd been too busy ogling her to keep his full attention on the road, but it was enough for you to question his judgement at times.

If you close your eyes, you could pretend it was someone else next to you, cutting through the gears like a hot knife through butter and coaxing every inch of performance out of the car that he could with the light traffic. You draw a surf-scented breath deep, lungs aching with the effort. 

Max joins the queue of cars waiting to park outside the venue, your attention trained on the guests stepping out of cars and climbing the wide set of marble steps leading to the sleek glass building. The modern structure is slightly out of place among the Roman-esque buildings surrounding it but the air of importance it exudes overrules any who dare say it doesn't belong.

"I can't tell you how glad I am that there's an open bar," Max remarks, hanging his head out the window to wave at someone. "It makes these events so much easier."

"You're telling me," you mumble, searching involuntarily for a familiar head of dusty blond hair in the droves of people arriving. Instead of sight, it's the unforgettable rumble of his Civic Type R's exhaust that alerts you to his arrival. Your head whips around, eyes eating up the pearl white paint of Pierre's favored car as it slides in behind you. You silently thank whatever deity is listening that his windshield is tinted, protecting you from seeing the smirk you are certain is playing on his lips.

Once upon a time, the cockpit of that car had been your favorite place in the world. You'd spent countless hours inside it eating shitty gas station cuisine and singing along to the radio at the top of your lungs as Pierre drove you to whatever adventure he had planned for the day. 

Max waves at your- his friend, you remind yourself sharply- and revs his Acura in response. He leaves the keys with the valet, picking up on the tension in your shoulders as the white car parks behind you. Max tugs your arm in attempt to turn you away, but your feet are rooted to the spot. 

“I see you found another date-” The flash of a grin on Pierre's face as he steps out is immediately dashed when he notices you on Max's arm.

If looks could kill, Max would keel over then and there. A muscle in Pierre's jaw flutters as he takes in the sight of the two of you together, your hand on the Dutchman's forearm and your matching attire looking for all the world as if it was purposefully coordinated. 

Max lifts his chin, spine going straight under Pierre's threatening glare. “Her airfare was already paid for and she already had the dress. Someone had to take her.”

Your stomach sinks; the last thing you wanted to do was become a point of contention between the two boys, but you refused to apologize for at least attempting to enjoy yourself. 

Pierre doesn't speak again, only nods to Max and pointedly avoids your stare. He tosses the keys to the smart-dressed kid serving as his valet, coming around to open Victoria's door. With his back turned to you, you take a moment to study the crisp white suit he's chosen for tonight. You had always told him black wasn't his color and he seemed to have taken it to heart. White was what you loved seeing him in, and the tight cut brought back memories of a different type of suit in an entirely different city only a few weeks ago. You'd peeled him out of that Alpha Tauri race suit the moment he made it to the trailer, eager to worship him after his podium. You'd be lying if you said it hasn't been the best sex of your life.

"Come on," Max urges, placing a chaste hand on your upper back and turning you around. He leads you up the stairs, his comforting touch never leaving your skin for a moment. The callouses were all wrong, the fingers too broad to be who you wanted it to be, and yet you couldn't help but imagine it was Pierre leading you up, stopping to smile for the few cameras scattered around.

Flashes spot your vision as you pull your face into an expression of excitement. Max murmurs something in your ear that you think is encouragement but the din of reporters is too deafening to be sure.

"How come you aren't with Pierre?"

The shouted question comes from an unknown assailant but it strikes you like a physical blow. You freeze, mouth going dry as you search for a suitable excuse. Max grants you the space of a single heartbeat to respond before he does so on your behalf.

"How about you mind your own damn business and worry about your cheating wife?"

The man who had bombarded you goes slack jawed, Max's wild guess clearly somehow hitting him just as hard as he had hit you.

"Keep walking," he urges you, leading you through the blinding sea of flashing lights. When you hear the same question directed at Pierre, his flippant laugh grates on your nerves.  

You don't have it in you to appreciate the grand architecture of the entrance hall, too busy trying to keep your breathing in check. Max steers you off to the side and places his hands on your shoulders.

"Look at me," he demands, and you drag your eyes up to his face. "Breathe. He's hurting just as bad as you, only difference is he's better at hiding it. Just enjoy the night okay? I'll grab you a drink and we can find Daniel and his friend and you two can catch up."

You nod, placing a hand on your throat. The delicate chain of the necklace is a vice around your neck, the reminder of him pulling it tight. Your pulse hammers beneath your fingers and you focus on it until it slows. "Get me whatever you're having."

Max disappears in the crowd, and you take a seat at the bench tucked in the corner. No one pays you any heed as they walk past, entranced by the elegant decor and fragrant florals. Your head falls forward to rest in your hands and you struggle to take deep, calming breaths.

Pierre was here. Inhale.

He looked happy. Exhale.

He was getting by. Inhale.

You could get by, too. Exhale.

Renewed, you glance up in time to find Max standing before you with a drink of dark liquid adorned with maraschino cherries in each hand. He extends one glass to you and you don't bother to question what it is before swallowing half in one go. "Better?"

"Much." You stand and brush out the wrinkles in your dress. "Where are we sitting?"

"Er, about that," Max starts, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "They put two teams at each table. We're at the Red Bull Alpha Tauri table."

"I see." You take another deep, steadying breath, letting the anxiety ebbing in your veins fade out with the exhale. It was times like this that you channeled Daniel a bit. It sounded silly and you would never admit it, but the slogans on his helmets worked if you focused on them hard enough. All good, all ways.

If Pierre could get through tonight, so could you.

“I can try to see if I can switch tables-”

"It's fine," you say and down the rest of the drink. “I can handle it.”

Max shifts on his feet, his discomfort something you rarely see from him. He usually excelled at keeping a straight face in uncomfortable situations but it seems that your unease rubbed off on him. “We should get going then, dinner will be served any minute.”

You once again take the arm he offers you, the liquor in your veins already granting you false courage. “We would have time to mingle if you hadn’t taken the scenic route.”

“It was nice out,” he protests, and pulls you to a halt when he spots Daniel across the hall. His girlfriend waves at you with a sad smile. She gestures between the two of you to indicate that you’ll talk later before Daniel pulls her towards the McLaren table. That boy was punctual to a fault and would be caught dead before he was late to anything.

Thankfully, the two of you arrive before Victoria and her date and are able to secure seats that ensure there’s a buffer between you. By some small miracle Christian Horner and his wife were absent and instead a few engineers and their significant others sat at the packed table. Max greets Gianpiero while you take your seat, happy to observe.

“Hey!”

You twist in time to see Yuki’s short frame emerge from the crowd and point to the empty seat to your right. “This one taken?”

You shake your head, standing to give him a quick hug. “How are you doing? Where’s your date?”

“Ah, she couldn’t make it. Had some family stuff to take care of. You look great, by the way.”

You dip your chin in thanks, unsure how else to respond. He was in a white suit that you were sure would wind up stained five minutes into dinner. “Did they mandate that you wear white?”

He shakes his head with a rueful smile. “Honestly, it’s the only one I own. I haven't been to enough events to build up my closet yet."

"Well I think it's…"

You spot Pierre before he sees you. His brow is slightly creased as he hunts for the correct table using the same focused determination as when driving his Alpha. For a split second, he meets your gaze. The cacophony of the event fades to background noise and suddenly it's just the two of you and you damn near lift your hand in a wave. You're positive he can see your heart beating out of your chest like in an old cartoon as you curl your fingers into a fist in your lap. Your restraint proves fatal, the floor falling out from beneath your feet when he drops your stare. This was your new normal, you remind yourself. Stolen glances were all you would get.

"I can move," Yuki says, starting to rise. You grip his wrist, holding him in place.

"Please don't." The only other open seats were across the table, and at least then you didn't have to worry about brushing elbows with him all night long.

Yuki nods, slowly settling back in. Max finally takes his seat after giving your shoulder a supportive squeeze.

"You don't have to say anything to him," he reminds you, barely audible over the scrape of chairs and various chatter.

You find anywhere else to look as Pierre pulls out Vic's chair for her and makes his rounds to greet everyone. Daniel and his girlfriend are seated a few tables away and you distract yourself by attempting to read their lips. You manage a few minutes of tenuous peace, catching snippets of Daniel's cheesy jokes and her disapproving, yet flirty, responses.

"Damn, we clean up well, huh?"

You squeeze your eyes shut at the sound of home. His words are honey and you lap them up like you'd never tasted anything sweeter. They weren't even directed at you and yet somehow you twist them to fit your narrative.

Pierre stands at the bottom of the stairs like a chaste high school prom date patiently waiting for your grand entrance. He checks his watch and rakes a hand through his messy hair. You stifle your laugh with a hand, amused by his unnecessary nervous energy.

Taking mercy on him, you clear your throat. His gaze snaps up to you, mouth falling open. You take your time gathering the orange fabric of your dress and descending the stairs, savoring the way he eats you up. He was resplendent in his crisp white tuxedo and you had half a mind to make him late for the gala and strip him out of it then and there and devour him.

Your heels clack on the marble floor of his entirely too fancy apartment and you pause to do a little spin for him, earning you an appreciative whistle for your trouble. A laugh bubbles out of you and you place your hands on his shoulders. His own settle on your waist to pull you flush against him, his body heat soaking through the thin fabric of your dress to warm your core.

"Damn, we clean up well, huh?"

You start when knuckles graze the back of your bare neck. The touch is there and gone but you know immediately that it's Pierre. It's slight enough to be brushed off as accidental to anyone else, but nothing was accidental with Pierre. The barely there contact conveys more than any words ever could. 

He still loved you. You looked stunning. He wishes you were still his so he could prove it to you. All this and so much more contained in a half second brush of his skin to yours.

It all comes back to you in a rush, the emotion you'd so carefully tucked away in a locked box in the back of your mind finally set free. His touch ignites any other thought in your mind that isn't him, burning it away until it's ashes on the wind. 

Despite your better judgement, you lean into him, giving him permission to unravel you. This time you sigh when his fingers ghost over your skin, electricity sparking in their wake. You didn't care who might be watching; the tiny touches were slowly repairing your shattered heart. Your traitorous mind replaces his fingers with the brush of his lips to your nape, imagining the heat as he slides the strap of your dress off your shoulder, lips moving to follow.

You bite your lip to stifle a groan when his heat is withdrawn, leaving you feeling inexplicably naked. You open your eyes to find Victoria's pitying stare paired with an apologetic smile. Max nudges you with his elbow, and you realize someone has addressed you.

"Um, what?"

"I said I like how you guys coordinated outfits," Pierre repeats and openly prods your shoulder. "Obviously Max chose the color."

His tone is playful, but his words are clipped in a way only you understand. Craning your neck, you twist to look up at him. His eyes are cloudy and his smile doesn't reach them, more for show than anything else. "It was an accident."

"Doesn't look that way."

Your retort is ready on your tongue but he doesn't give you a chance to reply before retreating to his seat. His ability to act as if nothing has changed astounds you, as your head is still reeling from the pinpricks of his skin on yours. Instead of being rendered speechless, he strikes up a conversation with Yuki about the Alpha's performance, leaving out the confidential details but giving enough away that it surprises you.

The sheer fact that he can so easily switch off whatever feelings he harbors is unfair. The sensation of his fingers on your neck still lingers and it's all you can do to keep from stepping around the table and slotting yourself between his legs like you had in that bar in London. Your nails bite into your palms, listening in if only for his voice to wash over you and calm your racing heart.

When he mentions the rake angle, you know it's just to mislead anyone who might be eavesdropping. He'd told you the exact angle in the past, and it certainly was not one degree, and it did not cause the level of understeer he was describing.

"The understeer comes from improper tire selection," you blurt. "And driver error."

All eyes turn to you and you straighten. You knew enough about the construction of a Formula 1 car to be positive your assessment was correct. You were almost as certain that he'd said it to force you into speaking to him whether you liked it or not.

"What was that?"

If Pierre could torment you with his subtle touches, you could do the same and call him out when he was wrong.

"Driver error caused the rear end to slide out around that turn in Japan, not the rake angle. That's got nothing to do with it. Your tires were blistered because of you taking an imperfect racing line and they were old. You miscalculated the level of traction they'd give you."

Why no one else had pointed it out was beyond you.

"So you're an engineer now?" Pierre challenges, crossing his arms. Something about the arrogance radiating from him rubbed you the wrong way. You let all the emotion of the past few days surface and add fuel to the fire.

"No, but I've learned enough to see through the bullshit drivers spin to mislead other teams."

Max murmurs your name in warning but your frustration is boiling over. He replaced you tonight, didn't even pause to consider going alone and instead choosing to take Victoria. Sure, it had been your fault that he was dateless, but that didn't give him the right to hurt you too. He knew it would destroy you to see him with anyone else even if it was completely platonic, but he did it anyway.

"Why don't you tell me where I should brake on turn ten since you're an expert all of a sudden?" Victoria lays a hand on his arm but he yanks it out of her grip. "What crack in the pavement? Or is it a mark on the barrier? Drive one lap in my car and then you can tell me how to drive."

It wasn't your analysis that had upset him. You'd done so plenty of times and he had always taken your criticism with an open mind, using it to tweak his driving style to improve his lap time or turn it into a teaching experience so you could learn. No, judging by the way his eyes are lined with silver that he fights to blink away, it's your betrayal that upsets him and rightfully so. You glance around the table but no one is willing to meet your eyes save for Max, who angles his head as if to say fight for it.

But you can't. It's monumentally easier to let Pierre win and sweep it under the rug than to address the deeper issue. "I was trying to help," you say lamely, picking at the salad in front of you.

"You don't get to do that anymore."

The venomous words hit like knives, knocking the breath out of you. Your mouth hangs open like a fish gasping for air but any reply you think up dies on your tongue.

As the music fades out and a man climbs up onto the stage, Pierre gets up and leaves. You track his progress as he weaves through tables, noting Daniel reaching for him as he passes. You flinch when the balcony door slams behind him, an astonished murmur rocking through the crowd.

"You should probably talk to him," Max whispers.

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak. You had no idea what you would say. 'Sorry' was insignificant and 'I love you' would be cruel when the barest of thought regarding how the media treated you made your stomach churn. 

Max pulls his phone out under the table and you think you see Charles' name on the screen. Good; someone had to make sure Pierre didn't do anything he would regret in the morning and if it wasn't you, Charles was the next best chaperone. A minute later, the Ferrari driver leaves his seat too, exiting the same way as Pierre. 

Focusing on what's said on stage proves fruitless. Try as you might, your attention is trained on the side door Pierre had disappeared through, praying he returns despite knowing it would mean more barbed words hurled at you. Neither he nor Charles return at any point during the presentation. His absence was quickly becoming a gaping black hole, swallowing up any semblance of sanity you had managed to gather in preparation for tonight.

"Try to have some fun," Max says, nudging you with an elbow. "As soon as this guy shuts up I’ll get us some more drinks and then we can eat and get out on the dance floor and forget about everything, yeah?"

You nod. You already feel the buzz of the first drink, and one or two more would push you thoroughly over the edge into blissful forgetfulness. "I don't wanna be sad anymore."

**********

He didn't know where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get away from you before he said something that would tear whatever hope he held of repairing what was between you to ribbons. He registers Daniel's low, "Gas, you good?" as he breezes past, but doesn't pause to answer. His sights are locked on the wide, carved oak doors that lead to fresh air.

The breath whooshes out of him when he flings open the balcony doors. They slam behind him and he winces. Chalk that up as something else for Helmut to pick him apart for on Monday.

Pierre rakes a trembling hand through his hair and rests his elbows on the railing, sucking in lungfuls of air like he'd just surfaced from a dive in the harbor. 

When you'd agreed to come to the gala with him, he had been overjoyed. You hadn't made it to the winter gala earlier this year due to a last minute exam and he had sulked the entire night. He still had the place card embossed with your name in the fishbowl by his door, the sizable container nearly overflowing with memories of you. Everything from forgotten earrings to plastic hotel key cards filled the bowl and it was a bright reminder of your adventures together. His plan had been to add another place card to the mix after tonight but after what he'd just said to you, he'd rather forget today ever happened. 

He fucking hurt. Everything just hurt, from the shirt collar scratching at his neck to the bone deep ache that had started when he laid eyes on you on those steps, arm locked with Max's. You'd stolen the words from his mouth, the jab he'd planned to toss at Max dying at the sight of you. 

He hadn't expected you to come tonight. Despite anyone's objections, he'd been fully prepared to get completely shit faced to the point that the ghost of your skin no longer haunted his fingertips and your voice no longer sang in his head. But seeing your damned face had shattered the false reality he had constructed, the one where you never broke him and left him scrambling to piece himself back together.

The universe had dealt him another low blow when he discovered Red Bull and Alpha Tauri would be at the same table and he'd be forced to endure your presence at arms length, close enough to touch but absolutely not allowed to do so. It was his own personal hell, constructed solely to punish him for whatever transgressions he'd made in his life.

And that fucking dress. 

The orange painted the aquamarine charm at the hollow of your throat in sharp relief, showing it off like he somehow still owned you. If you had arrived with him, he would have already led you back to the Civic and bunched that damned dress up past your hips to drag his favorite sounds from you with his tongue. If he could just get you alone, he's sure it wouldn't take more than a single touch to have you crashing into him and begging for more.

Seeing you with Max tonight paints an entirely different picture.

It's Max he sees tearing off the dress at the end of the night when you get back to his apartment. Max's hands slide over your hips and you laugh, walking back so you can keep your lips on his as he slams the door shut behind you. You dip your head back when he presses you to the wall, Max unfaltering as his lips and teeth trace the curve of your exposed throat and he slips the straps of the matching dress of your shoulders to let it pool at your feet. Max's name breezes past your lips on a shaky exhale as you become putty beneath his fingers.

No matter how loud Pierre calls your name, you don't hear him, instead cupping the back of the Dutchman's head and pulling him in for a heated kiss. When you do finally notice him observing from afar, agony wracking his body, all you do is grin. It feels real, even though Pierre is certain it's a crazed fever dream, his mind spinning his worst fear to life: you seeking comfort in the company of someone that wasn't him.

Pierre starts when the door squeaks open, the nightmare thankfully dissolving. Charles steps out clad head to toe in blazing Ferrari red and instantly he knows who sent him. The thought alone stokes rage in his chest, the image of your lips on Max's still fresh.

"Not as easy as you expected it to be, is it?" He asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Fuck off," Pierre growls and immediately regrets it. Beyond you, Charles was his closest friend. They had known each other for ages. It wasn’t a friendship he was willing to sacrifice just because he felt like shit. Pierre sighs and throws him an apologetic glance. "No it's not."

"Why don't you talk to her?"

"She doesn't want to fucking talk, Charles. Take one look at her, she's hanging on Max like she can't get enough of him." Pierre hangs his head in his hands, emotions shifting faster than he did on race day. "I can't go back in there and watch her choose him over me."

"You don't really believe that bullshit, do you?" Charles asks, joining him at the railing.

Not entirely, but he still struggled to understand your thought process. He thought he knew you, but you being here tonight when he had been certain you wouldn't be proved he didn't. 

"I don't know what to believe anymore. I thought it would be forever, that I'd finally found someone who didn't mind my lifestyle and accepted it for what it was, who loved me unconditionally. I thought she was my forever."

"You think she's done with you just because some assholes invaded her privacy?" Charles shakes his head. "She's loved you for a long time, years even. You haven't seen the looks she gives you, but the rest of us have. You hung the moon in her sky, Pierre. That kind of thing doesn't just get swept away by the breeze."

His shoulders curl inward in an attempt to hide the frustrated tear that escapes him. "What am I supposed to do?"

Charles shrugs. "I don't think there's a right answer to that. Try giving her some space. She didn't grow up in the spotlight like we did. It's not an easy adjustment for some people, mate. And blowing up on her when she tries to make conversation doesn't help anything," he says gently. "Let her figure it out and come to you when she's ready."

The concept of letting you go even temporarily was terrifying to him. Waiting on you to make the first move was even worse because he was setting his fate in your hands. 

"I miss her," he murmurs, turning his face to his friend.

"I know." Charles throws an arm around the taller man's shoulders and follows his gaze out over the tiered streets of Monaco's city center. "My suggestion is to throw yourself into the season. Show her you know how to fight, y'know?"

Pierre nods. He could do that. It was how he normally handled his problems anyway; let the track wick away whatever was on his mind and force him to hone in on the details surrounding him in each moment. 

"You ready to head inside?" Charles asks.

"I don't think I can go back just yet."

"Want me to hang out here with you?"

"No. I'll be back eventually."

Charles' hand falls from his shoulder after a short squeeze, the sound of a tinny voice over the speakers temporarily flooding the balcony as Charles returns to the banquet. Pierre allows himself a few more moments of reprieve before slipping back inside just as the applause starts. Rather than returning to the delicately portioned meal that sat cooling before his empty chair, he orders a drink. Whiskey on the rocks, his go to in times of crisis. He takes one sip before the reminder of you ordering it for him in London makes holding the glass of caramel liquid unbearable and he downs it in a single swallow, going back to order a beer instead.

He nurses the green bottle of Heineken as he leans against the wall until the meal is finished and the chit chat starts. You stand with Max, practically pressed against him as you snatch a flute of champagne from a passing server. You search the crowd, brows drawing together when you don't locate your quarry. Pierre had made sure that he was tucked out of the low lighting, unsure if he could survive you stealing worried glances at him all night. 

Charles winds his way over to pass off a roll he snagged from dinner, practically forcing the Frenchman to eat it before returning to his date. He nibbles at it absentmindedly, entirely too focused on you to divert an ounce of focus elsewhere.

Your dress is a glowing sun in a sea of earth tone garments, drawing his eye as you pull Max out onto the wood platform serving as the dance floor before the tables are fully cleared. The flush in your cheeks tells him you're deeper in your cups than you should be; Max didn't know your limit as well as he did. Three drinks was all you could manage before you got tipsy, five if you wanted to be completely blitzed. 

The lights dim and his hiding spot is no longer quite as good as the party lights sweep over him from time to time. Max places one hand on your hip and you place one on his shoulder and grin up at him. Judging by the fit of giggles that requires you to lean into Max for support, you were teetering dangerously on the edge of being wholly drunk. You throw your head back and laugh at whatever Max says in response to your fit, Pierre straining to hear the musical sound over the band. 

"Hey," Victoria says, breaking his concentration. "You wanna get out there?"

Pierre grimaces. He had managed to completely forget about her, too stuck in his own head. "Sorry, Vic. I don't think I'd be a very good partner tonight."

"No worries," she says, a soft, understanding smile on her lips. "I can keep myself busy."

Pierre nods his thanks, his attention immediately returning to the dance floor. Daniel and his girlfriend steal the show, both laughing as he dips and twirls her across the floor. 

Being together was so fucking easy for them, effortless in a way it wasn't for you and Pierre. They never once paid any heed to the photographers that swarmed them or the headlines printed about them, they just laughed the rumors off and carried on. No one could question their love for each other because they were vocal about it- sometimes annoyingly so- and Daniel was rarely seen in public without her at his side. They were always touching, holding hands or stealing kisses or even the near scandal of his hand blatantly on her ass at the podium a few races back, and neither of them cared.

Their love was all that mattered. They didn't care who knew it.

But you and Pierre were far too private to be like that, at least not when you were still trying to figure things out yourself. The first sign of outside pressure had you cracking, and he wouldn't stand for knowing he was the source of your pain.

He tries and fails to convince himself he isn't jealous of the way Dan's hand so easily glides under the navy blue silk of her dress to caress her back without a second thought, wishing he could do the same to you. If he's being honest, he's living vicariously through Daniel for the next few songs, pretending he was someone else observing you and himself on the dance floor instead. It almost works; the way she shudders when his lips graze her ear is strikingly similar to how you'd react. The smile she flashes up at him is agonizingly close to your own wicked grin.

When her mouth finds his, Pierre gathers his wits and turns away. Their blatant public affection flipped a switch inside him, disgust rocking through him for a split second before he pushed it away.

He was happy for them. He knew what a long, rocky road it had been for them to become lovers instead of friends, had firsthand knowledge of the stress they'd gone through before they'd finally admitted their feelings to each other, put their pride aside and got together. Pierre had been the one to offer her advice on a night not much different than this one months ago, helping repair the damage Daniel's idiotic, thoughtless words had caused. 

But Pierre had since become the person who was sickened at the sight of others in love. It reminded him that part of himself was missing and he hated it.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his eyes from wandering back to you. You still occasionally scan the room as Max struggles to lead you through a dance. By some stroke of bad luck your gaze snags on him just as a spotlight illuminates his face and he grimaces. A slow blink is the only surprise you let show before laying your head on Max's shoulder. Jealousy spikes through him like wildfire, igniting his blood and tinging his vision with red.

He wants to march over and rip you off Max. He wants you tucked safely against him as his thumb rubs circles on the bare skin of the small of your back. He wants, more than anything, to take you to his apartment and half carry you up the stairs, having to shush you because you're giggling loud enough to wake the dead, and lay you down in his bed. He wants to help you out of that stunning dress and into a pair of his sweats and curl up against you, letting you sleep off your hangover until noon.

He'd fucked up that chance though, hadn't he? He had slipped up and driven you straight into your friend's arms, who he trusted not to make a move on you but not enough to negate the jealousy coursing through him.

In that moment, he hates you. He hates the hold you have on him, the way a simple gesture between half-drunk friends could send him into a spiral so steep he didn't recognize himself. He hates that he can't keep his eyes off you, your gravity too strong for him to resist.

Most of all, he hates that he doesn’t know how to quit you.

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max​ @sunshinesewis​ @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval 

[omgbubbletea]

Dating George Weasley Would Include

Let’s get one thing straight, it doesn't matter what house you're in

Sure, it would be a bonus if you were in Gryffindor because that would mean he wouldn't have to sneak into your common room to be with you 

Blood status also doesn't matter to him

If he loves you, he loves all of you

The reason you and George are together is all thanks to Fred 

He had grown sick and tired of George constantly talking about you 

How pretty you were 

How nice you smelled 

How he felt butterflies every time you smiled at him 

The boy must have been in-love or something

On the other hand, Fred had found out you had feelings for George by constantly bugging you on the subject till you cracked and told him

Being the oblivious pair George and you were, neither of you had realised the others feelings 

This is when Fred decided to take matters into his own hands 

His plan consisted of locking both you and George in a janitors closet until you both confessed your feelings 

He had told you guys to meet him in this particular closet for an emergency meeting

With the two of you being so ignorant, you walked into this closet, wondering where Fred was and why he had chosen such a weird place to meet 

As soon as you guys crossed the line, that’s when Fred had locked the door 

“Fred! what are you doing? Let us out!” (you and George started to yell)

“If you guys want out, then there’s something you should get off your chest first”

You both knew instantly what he was talking about 

Fred’s plan was almost fool-proof except for the fact that both you and George had your wands and could just alohomora your way out 

Oh, wait...

Fred had known you too well and knew you both always left your wands in the dorm during free time before dinner 

“Fred this isn't funny”(George was starting to get on edge)

“Do you hear me laughing?”

The closet was small(but who said you found it a problem(; )

A couple of minutes passed 

“Look (y/n)...”(George began to say slowly)

“I- I like you”

“I like you a lot, more than a friend probably should”(was that his heart pounding in his chest George could hear?)

At that moment your head shot up to meet his gaze 

Did he just confess his feeling to you?

Did he feel the same?

Hope began to form in your heart 

“George...”(he was ready for his heart to be broken)

“I’ve felt that way since I first met you”(a smile began to break on your face)

When I tell you that that boys smile lit up the room 

Nothing more was shared at that moment except for a hungry kiss 

He had been craving your lips for awhile now 

Of-course the moment only lasted so long before Fred swung the door open

“Ew, gross guys!”

The two of you just grinned 

If you are not in Gryffindor, then your days usually consisted of sneaking into the others common room

It’s a usual thing

Cuddling on the couch 

Playing board games 

Your friends(and others in your house) are used to seeing George around 

Surprisingly, you guys have never been caught(thanks to the marauders' map)

He’s always waiting outside of the common room so you guys can walk to breakfast together

You guys always sit next to each other in the great hall

If you are in a different house, he will walk you to your common room at the end of the day and give you a kiss goodnight(which usually gets a bit heated)

Pet names

Darling and gorgeous are his most used

You can’t help but get butterflies every-time those words roll of his tongue

“Well hello gorgeous” 

Small forms of PDA

Hand holding 

Arm around your shoulder 

Arm around your waist 

Temple kisses 

Cheek kisses 

Knuckle kisses 

He LOVES it when you play with his hair and just melts into your touch 

I have a theory that the twins give the BEST hugs

Bear hugs that engulf you

Hugs from behind where he pulls you closer to him

(and he’s always so warm...like what?)

You love wearing his jumpers

Yes, they are always baggy on you

You love the smell of them though(strawberries, vanilla and a bit of a smoky hint)because it’s just like having George there

He gives you one of his jumpers to keep so you would stop stealing all his other ones

It’s your favourite item of clothing and you always wear it to bed

Your first “I love you” came out of nowhere

The two of you were in the common room studying for an upcoming test

You should have been in your bed by now but of-course this test was more important than your exhaustion

With papers strewn across the table and your hand cramping from writing, you continued with your work, although George had stopped

Suddenly, you had become aware of him gazing at you

“Can I help you?”

“It’s nothing, you’re just...so beautiful”

You couldn’t help the blush that bloomed on your cheeks

“I love you”

The phrase was just audible

You had looked up in shock unsure if you had heard right

George was yet to comprehend what he had said when it all hit him

“Oh (y/n), I’m sorry! It just sort of slipt out- I didn’t mean to say it- I mean I want to say it because I love you but not that-”

You just chuckled at his constant rambling

“George, calm down, I love you too”

“I don’t want to make you se- wait, what did you just say?”

“I love you too”(you said it gently)

“Really..?”(he didn't sound too convinced)

In gesture, you gave him a sweet kiss, melting into the moment

It seemed to calm his mind

Spending summer and Christmas at the burrow

Molly loves you 

She knits one of her famous sweaters for you for Christmas  

If you are muggle-born(or even half-blood), Arthur loves when you tell stories about muggle life 

When Ron was younger, he had a BIG crush on you 

Now when he thinks about it, he just gets embarrassed

Ginny looks up to you(and thinks you're a bad bish)

You and Ginny love to have sleepovers together and gossip about all the people in Hogwarts

You also get filled in on all her latest “love life” with Harry  

Fred is one of your best and closest friends 

He is happy that George found someone to make him happy 

You’re Fred’s wing-women(although he doesn't agree because you haven’t done the best of jobs)

You guys love to tease George together 

Although it’s mainly just Fred teasing you and George 

“Can you guys get a room?!”

It was in those moments that Fred may have regretted locking you guys in that closet 

As much as he loves you, he does get a bit tired of hearing George talk about you all-day(nothing changed since he confessed his feelings for you)  

Lee is also a close friend to you 

It was only inevitable for you guys to bond with the twins being best friends with him

Many times have the two of you tried to get back at Fred and George with a prank 

Sadly, the twins somehow always manage to know what you guys are planning 

Let’s just say they prank you guys twice as hard for trying to outdo the masters 

The twins are always playing “light” pranks on you 

From dying your hair bright pink

To slipping a small amount of love potion into your drink 

It’s always a risk being around the two of them 

They love to get you involved in their pranks 

This usually means standing guard though):

You remember this one time in potions when you were first learning about amortentia

There was a fresh batch of it at the front of the class and everyone around the room was trying to get a whiff 

“Do I even have to ask what it smells like to you darling?” 

You closed your eyes and gave a sharp inhale 

“Vanilla, candy apples and amber” (you had said it so innocently)

George’s face was painted in horror 

“What?!” 

He was in disbelief because he KNEW he didn’t smell of amber or vanilla 

“CEDRIC?!” (the twins spoke rather loudly in unison)

“But- I- wha-”(George began to stutter on)

At that point, you couldn’t hold in your laughter any longer 

“I’m only joking!”

When I tell you how quick that boy calmed down 

“Oh thank Merlin”

That was revenge for staining your teeth blue for a whole week!

In all honesty, the pained look on George’s face when he realised you may not love him pained your heart 

On the other hand, Fred thought it was hilarious 

(If) you play quidditch for Gryffindor, then you are a chaser, otherwise, you are whatever position you got placed into 

If you are not in Gryffindor, then you are always watching the quidditch game and supporting the twins(unless it’s your house playing)

He loves to find you in the crowd 

You’re his #1 fan 

Steamy kisses after the game

If they win the game then it’s going to be a lot more than kissing(;

He has ended up in the hospital wing a couple of times because of the game

It has never been too serious but you still can’t help but worry for him 

“You know, even with a black eye and bloody face, I’m still the better-looking twin”

Fred just cracked up 

“He must still be a bit loopy from all that pain killer”

If you don’t play quidditch, then George has defiantly tried to teach you

It didn’t go too well

You ended up falling off the broom at only 1 meter off the ground

Face-planted into the grass

Ended with you having a dislocated jaw

George felt guilty for the rest of the month and wouldn't stop apologising

Meanwhile, Fred had fallen on his ass from laughing too hard

Trips to Hogsmeade

Raiding Honeydukes

Dates at the Three Broomsticks

Drinking enough butterbeer to get tipsy 

Lots of puns and dad jokes 

You were once learning how to produce a Patronus in DA when someone had just spelled a deer

You looked over at George to see him struggling a bit with the spell

And that’s when the awful pun left his mouth

“Oh deer, I just can’t seem to produce a Patronus” 

You tried to hold in your laugh 

“Shove off Weasley”

He takes you to the Yule Ball

It’s a magical night 

Full of dancing 

Screaming the lyrics to the songs playing 

Drinking fire whisky that Fred had smuggled in

Drunk snogging to the point where Snape found you guys and took 5 points off each of you 

Dancing around the common room 

Sneaking into the kitchens to steal food 

Tickle fights(I feel like George is very ticklish)

Swimming in the Black Lake on a dare 

Snowball fights in the winter 

He never fails to make you laugh

He is more of the shy, reserved twin 

Sometimes you just have to remind him that he is loved and noticed 

He will compare himself to Fred and it will never be positive 

You will reassure him and hold him for however long he needs

If what he needs is a good vent then you are ready to listen no matter what you are doing 

He is more important 

He is also more of the jealous twin 

Don’t get me wrong, he won't go all psycho boyfriend when he sees another guy talking to you 

He respects you and knows you would never leave him for someone else 

But if there is flirting going on or the guy is trying to make a move 

Let’s just say his temper won't last long 

“Hello darling”

Que passionate kiss between George and you 

“Sorry mate, she’s already taken”

You had never seen a guys face go paler 

Or seen George go so smug 

He always knows what to do when you're sad

He will listen to your every last word if you have to vent 

Or he will hold you in his arms for hours while whispering sweet nothings into your ear if all you want to do is cry it out 

By the end of it, you can't help but feel just a little bit better because of him 

He loves to hear about your day and you can’t deny that he is the best listener

He low key has separation anxiety  

He LOVES to spoon

Definitely the big spoon

Although he can’t help but love to be the little spoon sometimes 

“Hey um...Do you mind if we?...”

“You wanna be the little spoon?”

“Yes please...”

He’s smiling on the inside 

He may be a little shy in public but he’s a freak in the sheets if you know what I mean(;

He’s usually top but it drives him crazy if you switch rolls 

I feel like he’s a hair puller?

Will always make sure you’re comfortable with everything 

Super gentle at times 

But also can be rough... 

Would never do anything that would hurt you 

Lots of cuddling after 

He loves to give you flowers just to see you get all flustered

One time he stole flowers from the school grounds

Little did he know, Mcgonagall had seen the whole thing

“Mr Weasley, are those flowers from Professor Sprout’s greenhouse?”

The look on his face was a dead give away

“Funny story actually Professor...”

Let’s just say it wasn’t the funniest of stories

Braiding his longer hair 

Showers together 

Piggyback rides to class

Studying in the library with Fred(but he usually just gets bored and leaves)

He reads to you 

Basically he is perfect in every way and will love you till the end 

[lovelyirony]

my cherries and wine, rosemary and thyme (And All Of My Peaches)

@peachy-keener to the best of the best ;), and @angxlsgrxce, the extension of the prompt that she filled! the prompt was not taken quite literally: set during fall...but i think that it makes the best of it 

Harley had grown up going to his grandparents’ house on his Dad’s side for years. He had grown up chasing his cousins around, Grams chastising him for being skinny as a bean pole. 

“You’re just like your Papa,” she’d say, stirring the cider at the stove as Harley “helped.” (Ate most of the cranberries.) 

“Good,” he’d say, mouth stained a brilliant purple. 

“Not good,” Dad would say, swinging his son into his arms and peppering him with kisses all over his cheek. “That means I have two insomniacs.” 

“But you also have a Pepper at your disposal,” Papa said, coming in from behind. “Hey Mama, thanks for letting our little bambino steal berries from you.” 

“It’s why I buy extra,” she says with a wink. 

As Harley grew up, he’d seen near-about-everything that happened. He’d heard all the stories, but his favorite was about the year Tony finally got to visit. 

“They thought we wouldn’t know,” Grandpa said, cutting up the ham with a laugh. “My damn fool son thought that I wouldn’t notice when he was gone on somebody.” 

“Language, dad,” he would say, and Harley would grin up at his dad. 

“He doesn’t need a lesson in what not to say,” Grandpa would say. “And you’re ruining the story. Anyways, here they are, cuddled up in a blanket...” 

Harley wants that. He wants to find someone he loves so much to bring home. He wants to dance with them in the kitchen when they’re supposed to be on clean-up, crooning to scratchy old records that made it past college dorm rooms. 

He wants to look across the table and smile fondly, and hold hands with whoever it is. 

His parents tell him it’ll be soon. 

“Before you know it, my mad scientist,” Dad says, grinning. “You’ll find someone that you’ll take their breath away.” 

“And hopefully it’s not because they’re asthmatic,” Papa quips. 

Harley giggles. 

“Goodnight bambino,” Tony tells his son. “Get good rest and wake up happy tomorrow.” 

“I promise,” Harley says sleepily. “Mostly.” 

Tony and Rhodey leave his room, and they smile at each other. 

“It’ll be too soon,” Rhodey says to his husband. “And then he will grow up.” 

“And we will be there for all of it,” Tony says, pressing a kiss to his husband’s forehead. “Besides, I can’t wait to see who Harley finds.” 

Harley meets a boy from Queens who talks a bit more than necessary, accidentally slapped him in the face while emphasizing his point about Jurassic Park during lunch, and has the most brilliant smile he’s ever seen. 

He can’t believe he knows him. 

Also, that they work together. Kind of. It’s an internship, but they also take most of the time to discuss conspiracy theories and challenge Ned with different programming games. 

“What do you think about adding some extra web spots on the sides?” Peter asks him. 

Harley is staring. A lot. 

Peter is wearing a good shirt. Funny pun. He is the funniest. And the cutest. He has these laughter lines by his eyes that always come up when he’s laughing really hard, and it’s so cute, and--

“Uh...Harley? You okay?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Um. Yeah. I’m all good. You were saying about side-lining your webslingers? Why?” 

“No, moving some to the side,” Peter says. “Like this.” 

Harley frowns at the diagram. 

“No, you splay out your hands too much when you’re Spidey. Web gets caught, you end up getting thrown at a ninety-degree angle or something. Skip it.” 

“How do I never think about the most obvious things,” Peter mutters. 

Harley has it on the tip of his tongue to mention that he is completely gone on him, and everyone knows it. Including his parents, which he isn’t exactly a fan of. 

Especially since Rhodey has been behind Peter at his work desk, mock-batting his eyelashes and throwing hearts up on any single display screen that Friday has control of. (She essentially staged a coup, and Jarvis let her.) 

“Dad,” Harley hisses out. “Stop.” 

“Stop what?” Peter asks, grin on his face. “What are you guys doing?” 

“Oh, nothing much,” Dad says. “But, that does remind me that I need to be doing something, and that is discussing Thanksgiving. We’re leaving for Grams’ early, around eight.” 

“Then cider!” Harley says, grinning. He turns towards Peter. “What about you, what plans you got?” 

“Oh, I think I’m going to attempt to make myself a mean turkey sandwich while May’s out,” Peter says. “Had to be on-duty for this year, but she gets Christmas off this year.” 

“What?” Harley says. “You’re not going over to Ned’s or anything?” 

“Ned’s visiting with Betty’s family, and MJ...I don’t know what she’s doing, but it’s something with family. She’s been sending me depressing poetry for half-an-hour.” 

Harley snorts. 

“Well that sucks, Peter. Sorry to hear that.” 

“It’ll be okay!” Peter says. “Just means I get to watch Star Wars with no complaints from you or Ned about my choices.” 

"I will find a way to have you avoid watching the prequels, they all suck.” 

“Sure they do,” Peter says. “That’s why everyone still watches them.” 

“It’s because everyone likes to make fun of them, not because they’re quality.” 

Peter laughs. 

“Maybe you’re right. But I gotta get going, Aunt May is trying to cook again.” 

Rhodey winces. 

“You want me to call Vietnamese food to-go ahead of time?” 

“I’ll see if I can help her any.” 

Harley waves goodbye, telling him to text when he got home. 

“I’m Spidey, I know how to get home safely,” Peter says, smiling anyways. “But I will. Anyway. Just to humor you.” 

“You have run into a telephone pole as Spidey before, you truly still think I have faith in you?” 

“I think a little bit of faith. Maybe a tad.” 

Harley rolls his eyes. 

“Go home before May successfully burns down the apartment complex this time.” 

“Will do!” 

Peter smiles one last time before exiting. 

“You, my dear son, are in love,” Rhodey announces. 

“Dad!” Rhodey snickers. 

“You did not learn subtlety from me, you learned it from your Papa, which is to say: you have learned no subtlety. It’s not my fault you’re entertaining.” 

“Ugh.” 

- 

But Harley keeps thinking about Peter. 

He knows that Peter is going to hate being alone, no matter how much he would actually watch the prequels. Peter hates being alone anyways. He’s always at least with someone, can’t stand being by himself. 

And on a holiday? One that’s usually spent with family of some kind? 

Well...it shouldn’t be that way. 

So at dinner, as Dad and Papa are talking about some sort of update on a phone, and Harley says it. 

“Can I invite Peter to Thanksgiving?” 

Dad and Papa stop. 

“I’m sure he’d love that,” Papa says softly, grinning. “I’m assuming it’s because he told you that May is on duty for that day?” 

“Yeah. I don’t think...I don’t want him to spend it alone.” 

His parents share a look, a look that they’ve shared a million times, one filled with soft understanding and so much love. 

“I’ll let Grams know we have an extra guest,” Tony says. “After all, it is my turn.” 

Dad snorts. 

“Sure it is, honey. Alright, Harley, call him up.” 

Harley grins, practically giddy. He’s excited to share this with Peter, to have him in this life. 

(And yeah, he’s hoping that it’s like the stories that Dad tells him at night, the ones over iced water and quiet reassurances late at night.) 

He presses the contact information, smiles as Peter answers on the second ring. 

“Harley, did I forget something?” 

“I don’t think so, no. But I wanted to ask you something.” 

“W-what did you want to ask me?” Peter asks. His voice sounds faint, almost nervous. 

“You sound weird. You okay?” 

“Yes. I am more than okay. I am perfection.” 

“Okay loser, don’t tell me. But I wanted to invite you to Thanksgiving with us.” 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. No one should be alone.” 

“I mean, I don’t want to trouble you. I can be fine on my own.” 

“Peter, you are a terrible liar. You hate being alone. Besides, you’ve never had Grams’s cider before, and that clearly needs to be fixed.” 

“You don’t have to twist my arm,” Peter says, laughing. “What do I need to bring?” 

“A blanket and maybe a sleeping bag if you got one. If not, no big deal, we just usually stay the night since it can be a bit of a drive.” 

“You sure you still want me coming?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

“Um...it’s family time?” 

“You’re close to me, Peter,” Harley says. “And I want you around all the time. I’m just glad you wanna come. You’re gonna love Grams.” 

“Okay. What time should I swing around Stark Tower?” 

“Uh...lemme ask.” 

Harley hops off his bed, phone at his shoulder. 

“Papa, what time do you want Peter over for the ride?” 

“Seven-thirty!” Tony says. “Unless you two want to canoodle before you’re stuck in the car with us geezers or something.” 

“Stop!” Harley hisses, glaring at his father as he snickers. “Uh, Peter, did you hear any of that?” 

“Something your Papa said made you yell, but nothing else?” 

“Okay, get here by seven-thirty in the morning, if that’s okay.” 

“I’ll set my alarms.” 

“Alarms?” 

“Well, I don’t wake up that easily.” 

“And here I thought Spidey-Sense was real.” 

“Hey!” 

- 

Harley decides he’s made either the worst decision of his life or the best, and it all depends on if Papa catches him staring so blatantly at Peter. 

He’s cute when he’s sleepy. He leans against the kitchen counter, and he’s still in an over-sized sweater with a scarf lazily wrapped around his neck. Harley really wants to fix it, just reach out. It’d be so easy, so cute 

“Harley I swear to god, please get your bag in the car before it becomes like the worst-family-picture-event,” Papa says. 

Peter seems to perk up at that. 

Of course. 

“What would the worst family picture be?” 

Rhodey already has his phone out. 

“Harley forgot his bag, which had all of his clothes. Only a Wal-Mart was open, and...” 

Head-to-toe sports neon. It was bad. Harley was frowning with his brows lowered in an obviously-frustrated expression while Tony and Rhodey sandwiched him, obviously bemused by the happenings of the holiday. 

Peter laughs. 

“Aw, you were so cute when you were little,” he says, smiling. “Really cute.” 

“Even in neon?” 

“Well, you’re cute in anything. Even neon.” 

Harley nearly spills his coffee. 

The ride there is mostly quiet. Tony hums along to the music, smiling slowly at some as Dad explains how Papa was the worst dancer on earth. 

“Not as bad as Peter,” Harley pipes up. 

“Harley.” 

“Oh come on, it’s cute,” he teases. “The way your arms flail like spaghetti is endearing.” 

“See if you get a sandwich from Delmar again.” 

“Oh the tragedy,” Harley moans. “No sandwich from Delmar!” 

Peter laughs. 

“You two get some sleep, Mama isn’t gonna stop bothering you two,” Tony decides moments later. “Come on.” 

Getting to sleep is...not easy. Especially when you’re supposed to. But Peter smiles. 

“Share a playlist with me?” 

“Sure.” 

Peter’s music taste is amazing. Seriously. Harley usually sticks with what Papa plays, although occasionally he’ll foray into some of what MJ plays. 

Peter’s music is relaxing. It’s light, easy. There are undercurrents of a deeper meaning, and what the memories make it be. 

The current song reminds him of the end of the summer that year, when they had an end-of-summer-picnic and he fell into the pond, and Peter couldn’t stop laughing and took about a million pictures of Harley actually in the water. 

"You remembering that time I fell?” Harley says, grinning at Peter. 

“I’m remembering how good my photos turned out,” Peter says, although he smiles. “You made a fantastic model. You always do.” 

Harley turns red. 

“Um, thanks. I always have a great photographer, wouldn’t you know it?” 

This time, Peter turns red. 

“I’m gonna try to take a nap,” he says. “Mind if I use your blanket?” 

“Not at all.” 

And Peter settles against his shoulder. 

It’s uncomfortable, but hell if Harley minds it. He smells good, and he’s so soft. He probably needs sleep. Knowing Peter, he probably stayed up half the night with homework, or something that had been a project for SI. 

Rhodey catches his son’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He doesn’t say anything, just smiles and nods. 

After all, there’ll be more than enough questioning when they get to Mama’s. 

- 

Harley gently jostles Peter awake as they pull into the driveway. It looks like some cousins are already there, and Mama is already halfway out the door, most likely intent on attacking her son-in-law in kisses and hugs, and seeing how tall Harley has grown. (One inch, but now he’s taller than Tony.) 

“My baby!” she declares, attacking Harley in kisses. 

“Grams,” Harley whines. “I need to help Peter out of the car.” 

“Oh let me see him,” she says, grinning widely. 

“Don’t make him scared of us.” 

“Why would we be scary?” 

“I’m not mentioning the incident of 2011.” 

“That was one time!” 

And then Peter is out the car, grinning. His cheeks are flushed from warmth, and he’s already helping take out the luggage and the dishes from the car. 

“You must be Mrs. Rhodes, it’s good to meet you.” 

“Call me Grams, young man,” she says, eyes sparkling as she turns to Tony. “He reminds me of you at this age.” 

“I was not nearly so scrawny,” Tony says with a wink. “I was charming and devastatingly handsome.” 

“Oh yes, because nothing says devastatingly handsome like train tracks for a mouth,” Rhodey deadpans. 

“And yet what did we do in your room? As I recall, you--” 

“Tony!” Grams admonishes. “Not in front of the kids, and not in front of me.” 

Tony smiles sheepishly. 

“What can I say? I have wormed my way into your heart.” 

“Unfortunately,” Rhodey says. “Peter, watch out for Tony. He can get away with anything, he’s Mama’s favorite. Even though I’m her son.” 

“Well when you fix a finicky Ford in freezing weather, tell me immediately.” 

“Still?” 

“Still!” 

Harley drags Peter, holding his hand. 

“Come on, you have to meet everyone still.” 

- 

Peter is just a bit overwhelmed, but mostly laughing as Harley takes him around the house. 

He meets Grams and Grandpa and hears all about Harley’s embarrassing stories, and he thinks it is rather nice, the dusting of red that Harley gets on his cheekbones. 

It’s a bit odd. Usually, he and May just watch Seinfeld reruns on the couch, or sometimes May has a friend’s apartment that they go to. 

They’ve given up on ever fixing an Official Thanksgiving Dinner after Ben, and maybe it’s too bittersweet a memory, or maybe it’s because when Ben died, there went the last of the talented Parkers in the kitchen. 

So Peter is surprised when Harley leads him to the kitchen to help him prepare the potatoes. 

“I make the best roasted potatoes,” Harley says. “It’s from the family cookbook, but I always add a little extra.” 

He leans in conspiratorially, and Peter catches a whiff of his cologne. 

“It’s extra onion. Don’t tell Papa-Tony-he’s been trying to get it for forever.” 

“I shall promise,” Peter says solemnly, saluting. “Scout’s honor.” 

“Were you ever in the program?” 

“For a year. I dropped out after I accidentally almost became a missing persons case.” 

“Please tell me it was because you chased a butterfly.” 

“How did you-?” Peter splutters. “How did you guess?!” 

“It’s a you thing, and I know you,” Harley says, poking his shoulder. “Now come on, help me peel potatoes before Grams makes you set dishes with Aunt Lola. She’s nice, but...talks a lot.” 

“I gathered.” 

It’s peaceful, almost. Peter works easily, handing peeled potatoes to Harley, and when they’re all done, helping chop them. 

“Thanks for inviting me,” he says quietly. 

“You don’t need to thank me,” Harley says. “I, um. I wanted you here.” 

“You...you did?” 

“You’re the best person in my life,” Harley says softly. “And I, well, I--” 

“Harley!” comes a yell. 

He seems frustrated to Peter’s eyes. 

“What, Dad?” 

“Come here and help me with an air mattress for your cousin Vince!” 

“Why can’t he help?” 

“He’s supervising your Aunt Jeannie at the store!” 

“Why does she need supervision?” 

“She watched Chopped!” 

Peter laughs as Harley huffs. 

“Well, we’ll come back to it,” he says softly. “Don’t worry.” 

Peter finishes with the potatoes, and moves onto the onions. He looks at the stained page in front of him, and sees a small addition in Harley’s unmistakable engineer-block-writing about more onions. 

He smiles. 

He wonders if when he grows up, they’ll have a-- 

OH. 

Well. It’s not exactly a surprising thought. He’s been in love with Harley since freshman year of high school, after their second week of gym when Harley dramatically decided to pass out and shorten the class by about twenty minutes.

When Harley looked back and grinned at Peter, right at him, it was then and there that he fell.  

(MJ called him “the most love-struck boy in the world”.) 

- 

Harley bounds down the stairs, grinning as he sees Peter at the table, helping Grams with the cider. 

“You’re trusting someone to help you after all this time?” 

“You finally bringing someone after all this time?” 

“Grams, I’m still young.” 

Her eyes sparkle as she pushes some cranberries towards Harley. 

“Picked out some extra. And I remember when your Dad was your age, don’t think I don’t have the guts to tell the stories.” 

She gets up from the table. 

“You know the recipe by heart, love. Help your guy with it.” 

Harley slides into her seat, grinning softly at her. 

“Thanks Grams.” 

“I’ll come and see your results in a bit.” She smiles fondly. 

Peter and Harley are alone. 

“So.” 

“So.” 

Harley turns red. 

“So, um. Is it okay if I’m awkward for a minute? And I don’t know how you’ll feel about it, but I think it’ll be okay.” 

“You’re always awkward,” Peter says softly. He’s stopped cutting up the oranges, knife laid to the side. 

“Well. Um. Yeah.” 

“Harley,” Peter starts out. “You can tell me anything. I promise you that it will be okay.” 

Harley looks at him. And really looks at him. 

“Can I...can I dance with you?” 

Peter’s eyes widen. 

“Really?” 

It’s getting late, the night already dark for hours. The family is quieting down, and most have retired to their respective rooms. 

“Yeah, really.” 

Harley drops a record on the old player, smiling as the familiar croonings of Bing Crosby lift over the house. It’s a favorite of his dads: Only Forever. 

Peter stills as he hears the lyrics: 

Do I want to be with you as the years come and go? Only forever, if you care to know...

“You mean...?” 

“I mean it all, darling. I mean it all.” 

Peter smiles and there’s almost a tear in his eye as he leans his head on Harley’s shoulder. 

“I love you, Harley Keener.” 

They sway like that for a moment, and all is well. Harley breathes out, and he listens to Peter’s heartbeat slow down. It’s a good moment. 

-

For their wedding album, Tony surprises them with a picture of their first dance. The real one.

Harley absolutely does not cry and if anyone says that they saw him, they are lying liars who have received uninformed news. 

(No matter what his husband tells them.) 

[formeandmyfics]

More Than You Know (Part I)

JUGENEA FAN FICTION

warning: sex, language, minor drug use

(PHOTO EDIT @ohmygarlands​)

August 1951

Judy stormed out of the master bedroom slamming the door shut behind her. "For heaven's sake," she hissed as she head down the stairs and rounded the corner heading towards the back of the house.

Gene opened the bedroom door looking pissed and shouted from the banister, "Am I going or what?!" When there was silence he shouted her name, "JUDY?!" His response back was an echo of the kitchen patio doors slamming shut.

"Acting like a brat," he mumbled heading back into the bedroom, "like a little fucking baby."

Out in the backyard, Judy was packing a carton of cigarettes against her palm when Gene opened the balcony doors to their bedroom on the 2nd floor and looked down at her. When she looked up at him, he held his arms out wide as if saying 'Uh, hello.' Judy placed a cigarette between her lips and mocked him, just the same.

He pointed at her about to yell but quickly stopped himself. He exhaled roughly through his nose and ran a hand through his hair keeping calm before turning back to her. "I'm meeting up with the guys," he said as more of a statement this time, instead of asking her again.

"I told you, I don't give a shit," she said, the cigarette dangling from her lips as she searched her pockets for a lighter.

"Fine then. Here," he said and threw his expensive lighter down at her. It was a silver-plated, flip-lighter monogrammed with his initials on it that Judy had gotten him as a gift during their wrap party for The Pirate.

Judy barely had enough time to react as she caught it, a bit startled at the force of it. When he slammed their balcony doors shut behind him, Judy lit her cigarette and threw the lighter behind her, landing in the bushes.

"Harry and Jo having a brawl?"

Judy exhaled her smoke as new neighbor, and girlfriend, Lauren Bacall walked into the backyard from their connecting fence gate.

"Yeah," she replied and sat on the edge of the trampoline that Gene had built for Kerry and Liza.

"Can I bum a smoke," the blonde asked scooting onto the trampoline next to her.

"Sure. But if you need a lighter, better go find a flashlight. I threw my lighter somewhere back there."

"I saw," Lauren giggled and took a smoke then took out her own lighter. "What are you two fighting about?"

"What aren't we fighting about, Betty."

"Why," Lauren asked surprised, "You two are finally free to be together, you just got this house, Gene's on the top of the Box Office at work, you're on top the world with your new concert career...you shouldn't be fighting. You should be swinging from the god-damn chandeliers."

Judy laughed, "We've been swinging from the chandeliers together for years. We've done that bit."

"Darling, just because you're playing house now doesn't mean it has to stop."

"I know, and it won't stop, but right now we're just so damn irritated with one another. It's been like that since we got back to LA."

"It's probably just stress. You've been traveling around Europe with your concerts, Gene's been flying back and forth while doing post-production for his film. You're both just having a burn-out. And instead of relaxing together you're both lashing out."

Judy nodded agreeing, "You're probably right."

"When do you go to New York to start planning for your Palace show?"

"I’ve been planning it here. We start rehearsals next month. October 1st I’ll be in New York to start rehearsing on the stage.”

“How long will you be in New York, about 6 weeks?”

“Yes, unless they extend the show. We’ll see what happens.”

“Where are you going to stay?”

“I think I’ll just be at the Ritz while rehearsing and then probably sub-let an apartment in Kay’s apartment building for the rest of the stay.”

"Is Gene going to be traveling back and forth?” Judy nodded, “Then I suggest you two put the bullshit aside and act like rabbits before you're separated again."

Judy laughed and shook her head, "We don't have to put the bullshit aside to do that. Sometimes it makes it even better."

"Oooo," Lauren said seductively.

"Unfortunately, we're both stubborn as hell, I admit that, so we don't just sweep it under the rug easily."

"Well, you better before this weekend."

"Why, what's this weekend?"

"Lawford and I were chatting and he said that he's going to invite some of us to his lake house in Palm Springs. Kind of an, end-of-summer mini vacation."

"Kids or no kids?"

"No kids. Adults only. My husband can't go, but it'll probably be us and Frank and Richie and Junie."

"Frank and..," Judy mentioned with a cautious tone.

Lauren immediately shook her head, "I don't think so. She's shooting a film as we speak. Will you go, it's not too long of a drive. It'll be fun."

"I'd love to just lay on his boat out there on the lake, but I can't promise anything yet. I'll have to talk to Gene about it."

"Make him say yes. You know, with much persuasion."

"With the way his attitude's been, I'm not doing any 'persuading'. He don't deserve it."

"Maybe that's why his attitude is so bad. He ain't gettin' any," Lauren teased and hopped off the trampoline, "See ya later, doll."

"Goodnight, darling."

It was going on 10:30 in the morning when the door to the guest bedroom opened. Gene had his arm bent over his face covering his eyes from the bright sunshine but he looked over at the doorway when he heard the door open. Judy, in a terry robe, sighed and gave him an all-knowing look.

“Wipe that smile off your face, soldier,” he said mimicking a drill soldier.

She walked over to him, “What time did you get in?”

“A little after 2. Didn’t want to wake you.”

He was a little surprised when she got onto the bed next to him and immediately laid her head on his chest. “Does this mean we’ve made up,” he teased swooping an arm around her.

“No, but I still love you.”

“I love you, too,” he replied kissing the top of her hair, “Are you still mad at me?”

“I’m not mad, but I’m not happy.”

“When why are you being so cuddly?” He quickly broke out in a smile, “Morning sex?”

He moved to roll her over but she placed her hands on his chest and sat up, “No, don’t even think about it.”

“Then what,” he said getting a little irritated again.

“Nothing,” she whined in a cute voice.

“Oh, it’s something. The only time you want to lay with me when you’re mad is if you want sex or…” off her look he sighed, “Alright, what do you want?”

She cut straight to the chase, “Well, Lauren was talking and said that Peter wants to get some of us together at his lake house for a mini vacation.”

“In Palm Springs?”

“Yeah.”

“When?”

“This weekend.”

“Are the kids going?”

“No.”

“Not our kids, I mean, everyone else’s kids.”

“She said no.”

He kept on, “Because if we’re going on a last minute vacation, as much as I love all the kiddos, right now I just want to relax without a dozen kids running around.”

“Gene, she told me adults only.”

“Who’s all going?”

“Us, Betty, Frank and Richie and Junie I think.” When he didn’t respond, she continued, “We’ll all have fun together at the house…doesn’t that sound like a good idea?”

“It’s not a bad idea.”

“I really would like you to go, but if you don’t, I think I’d go anyways.”

“Oh, you would?”

“Darling, I want to go to the lake with my friends away from Los Angeles. I can go on the boat and maybe play some golf.”

“It does sound relaxing.”

“Sure it does.”

“Ya, let’s do it.”

“Good. Besides, Lauren did say she also thinks it’ll be good for us.”

“How so?”

“She heard us fighting last night.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

She ignored his request, “And I didn’t appreciate you throwing your lighter at me like that.”

“I’m sorry. Give it back.”

“Can’t.”

“Why?”

“I threw it somewhere outside last night. No idea where it landed.”

“Jesus, Judy. I really loved that lighter.”

“I’ll get you a new one - with a new inscription,” she said as she slapped his knee and got up.

“I don’t even want to know what it’d say,” he teased back.

“Two words,” she giggled and walked out shutting the door behind her. 

It was a gorgeous, Friday afternoon as Judy and Gene drove his new Chevy Bel Air convertible the few hours east to Palm Springs. The first hour, Gene drove, then Judy switched when they got gas, as she actually loved driving. Now they were only five minutes down the road and Judy couldn’t wait to get there. Both of their demeanor had changed with each other. Except for Gene getting impatient and screaming, “Let’s Go!” as she already made them late on the road, they actually were quite affectionate during the drive. They held hands, snuck a few kisses in and sang together to the radio. Glancing in the rear view mirror, Judy noticed another fancy car speeding up quite fast to them. When they got on her tail, they started honking. “What in the sam hell…” Gene glanced behind him, “Don’t do anything. Just let them pass.” When the car still didn’t pass, Gene turned around more and lowered his sunglasses. The blonde woman had her hair pulled back and sunglasses on but it was most definitely a familiar face. “Oh my God.” “What?” “It’s Lauren,” he said relaxing and turning back around in his seat. “What the heck is she doing,” Judy screeched. At the red light, Lauren pulled up beside them. She smiled and waved. “Hi.” Judy, with her head wrapped in a summer scarf, smiled back, “Hi.” “Hey, Gene, you actually trust Judy to handle your stick,” Lauren joked. Gene smiled wide, “Oh, yes, I do.” Judy slyly smiled and lowered her sunglasses provocatively, “I’m surprised Bogie let you take his car to Palm Springs.” “Always. I bet my husband’s stick is better than Gene’s,” Lauren joked with a pun. “I beg to differ, darling.” Gene chuckled and put his arm on the seat behind Judy’s back, “That’s my girl.” “Bet I’m faster,” Lauren quipped. “I bet you are,” Gene said and Judy hit the back of her hand to his chest. Lauren revved her engine and Judy raised an eyebrow before revving her own. “What are ya, doin’, Judy,” Gene warned. Judy looked at her him and pushed her sunglasses back up on her nose before looking back at the light. “Woman, you better not race my brand new car…” “Call me woman again and I’ll drive your brand-new car off a cliff.” When the light turned green, off Lauren went with wheel screeching but Judy took her time to press on the gas and they smoothly went through the intersection at the speed limit. "You're terrible," he chuckled.

"Please, you really think I'd do that?"

"Hell yes you would, but I just don't want you to do it in my new car. She's a little spit fire that one, ain't she?"

"She sure is."

Dick Powell, or Richie has his friends called him, was helping Lauren with her small suitcase when Judy pulled up behind them. She didn’t park until she was a mere few inches away from the back of Lauren’s bumper. When the couple got out, Lauren looked at the space between their cars, “You are so lucky. If you were any closer, I’d have to kick your ass.” “You can try,” Gene said opening their trunk, “She might be small, but she’s a ninja.” Judy smiled and grabbed her purse as Lawford met up with them, “Hey, the gangs finally all here!”

“Hi, hun,” he said as Lauren gave him a kiss on the cheek and then went over to Gene who shook his hand, “Hey bud.” “Thanks for the invite.” “No problem, it’s going to be fun. Hi, baby,” he said walking around to Judy. “Hi, honey,” she said giving him a kiss on the lips. “Gene, tell ya what, you get those bags, and I’ll take care of this one.” Suddenly, he bent down and lifted Judy up over his shoulder as she happily shrieked, and headed towards the house.                Everyone got settled in and figured out the sleeping arrangements. Peter gave Lauren his room, he took the couch downstairs in his ‘man cave’, Richie and Junie took a guest room as Frank was in the other and Judy and Gene agreed on the pull-out bed in the living room. After having a fabulous dinner that they men barbecued, Judy, Lauren and June washed the dishes in the kitchen as the four men stood outside in the backyard chatting over beers. There was a large window in front of the sink and as Judy rinsed off the dishes for Lauren to dry, she watched Gene. At the moment he was laughing and it made her heart flutter, she couldn’t help but smile. In mid swig of his beer, he mindlessly glanced over and saw her smiling through the window. He took his beer away from his lips and smiled back affectionately. Judy suddenly felt the urge to be in his arms. She bit her lower lip before pointing towards the front door, motioning for him to follow her.  Gene gave her a nod before swigging the last of his beer. Judy dried her hands and excused herself from the ladies. Judy walked out onto the front porch as Gene made his way up the porch stairs. She took his hand and together they sat down on the porch swing cuddling. In silence they watched the sunset over the lake gently swinging back and forth. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Gene turned his head to study her face, glowing in a hue of pink and orange from the dusk sky, “You’re beautiful.” “Aw, darling, that was so sweet.” “It’s the truth,” he softly said putting a hand on her jaw before giving her a soft kiss. Pulling back just a tad, they rest their foreheads together, and Judy whispered, “Hi, darling.” “Hi, darling,” he said back before leaning in for another kiss. Gene softly pulled on her plush lower lip before moving his mouth up to suck on her upper one. When he felt the tip of her tongue nudge his lip, he rearranged his body towards hers more and angled her neck to kiss her deeper. Her mouth was already open to receive him. They’re tongues slowly glided over one another before withdrawing to suck at each others lips again. When they repeated the action again, Gene brought her legs up on his lap to caress her lovely legs that were bare in her high-wasted black shorts. It had been almost two weeks since they had a good kissing session, the same time that it had been since they last made love. Their make out session heated up slowly until the kisses were harder and very sexually charged. Gene didn’t stop until he heard her slight whimper against his lips and withdrew. His face was full of arousal as hers was flushed. He kissed her neck and ran a finger tip down the curve of her breast. Judy was just about to tell him to take her into one of the extra rooms for a quickie when they heard their names being called. The two scooted away from each other a tad just in time for June to stick her head out the door, “Oh, there you are. Come inside, we’re going to have a drink.” Judy took her legs off of Gene’s lap as they got up. He ushered her inside where everyone met downstairs in the ‘man cave’ and gathered around the mini bar. June placed an arm around Judy’s waist as they waited for Peter as he made a drink concoction for each of them, “Are you excited for your Palace show?” “I am so excited, I cannot tell you.” “When do you open?” “I think they’re pushing for October 16th. Tickets should go on sale next weekend.” “Well, we’ll be right there in the front row.” “Make sure that you do.” “It’s a 4-week run like the Palladium, right?” “Yah, mm-hm. If we have a good turnout, I might extend it. I go to New York soon to start production. I’ve been working on it it with Kay and Roger and Hugh Martin.” “Here ya go, Junie, Judes…” Peter said as he went around and handed each of them a small glass cup with liqueur that filled the cup just enough to be a double shot. Junie took the cup but didn’t drink, “That’s a hellava team, sweetie. Like Metro again, but without the slave drivers.” Judy giggled and took her cup, “Exactly. I’m excited to open the theater back up, but I just hope I have enough stamina for the two-a-day.”

“Oh, you’ll be just great.” “Alright, what do we toast to,” Lauren asked. Judy sniffed the drink. She rarely did shots, but when she did, she liked to know exactly what she was taking. She sniffed a second time when she couldn’t recognize the smell, “Alright, what is this?” They ignored her and Lauren spoke up, “Cheers to friends and beer, love and tears and legs behind your ears!” “To all of those who wish us well,” Gene started and Peter chimed in with him, “And the rest can go to hell!” Richie then continued, “And may all your ups and downs be between the sheets.” All of them touched the bar surface with the bottom of their glass before taking the shot, some of them making a funny face including June and Judy. “Oh, what the hell was that,” she asked. “Cognac and a hint of ginger ale.”

“I’ll never be doing that again,” she said wiping a drop away from the corner of her mouth and handed Gene her empty glass.

After some more drinks, a lot more drinks, they were all just hanging out downstairs when Frank chimed up.

“Alright, well, gang, it’s only ten, what do you all want to do now to keep things interesting?”

“Strip poker,” a tipsy Peter chimed.

But everyone immediately responded as if he had mentioned in a million times,“Noooo.” “Truth or dare,” June asked.

“Can’t go wrong with Truth or Dare,” Lauren said blowing smoke from her long cigarette holder.

“Alright, Truth or Dare it is,” Frank said and they all sat down.

“Honey, you thought of it, you go first,” Rich said patting her leg.

"Ok, we'll go clockwise," June said and looked at Judy next to her, "Truth or Dare, ma'am?"

"Dare," she replied confidently.

They all "oo'd" not expecting that from her. Gene's eyes opened wide and he smiled.

"Alright, do something right now that will surprise the heck out of your man."

Judy laughed, "He's known me so long I'm not sure there's much that would surprise him."

"Oh, yes," he laughed, "Yes, there is."

Judy looked at him and thought a moment before pushing on his knee to stand up, "I got it. I'll be right back."

They watched as she disappeared up the stairs.

"Bet she don't come back," Frank chimed in.

"No, she's got something up her sleeve," Richie said.

"I'm actually really curious what she's doing," Gene said his eyes glued to the stairs waiting for her.

She could be quite bawdy but she was not one to do something actually naughty in public - talk about naughty, yes, do it, no. Not a minute later, Judy came down the stairs. Without hesitation, she immediately walked to Gene and placed something in his hand before sitting back down next to him. He looked at it and it was the lighter she had given him that she "lost" outside.

Gene chuckled and just slyly looked at her. She giggled and he reached over giving her a peck on the lips.

"What is that?" Peter asked.

"My favorite lighter," Gene said chipper and placed is in his pocket.

"Why is that such a surprise," June asked.

"It's a private thing between us. Honey, your turn, ask away," Gene said.

"Truth or dare?"

"Truth."

“Alright, mmmm…” she trailed off thinking and a light bulb went off, “Oh, I have one. I’ve actually always wanted to know but never asked you. Who is your biggest celebrity crush or someone you’d love to be with if we weren’t together.”

“Your one-time pass, Gene,” Frank said cutting to the chase.

“Gene never has one-time anything,” Rich said.

“Oh, Oh, ho ho,” Judy sarcastically laughed.

“There’s been one or two,” Gene said before Judy did, embarrassed. “I mean, I am a dancer so I have to say Ginger Rogers. The moves on that woman, and the pair of legs on that broad. Everyone knows I’m a leg man,” he said pointing his thumb at Judy and purposefully lifting his eyebrows like Groucho Marx.

“Ginge, doesn’t have Jack anymore, Gene. There’s your free card,” Lauren said.

“But he still has Judy,” Judy sang before taking a sip of her wine.

“It wouldn’t mean anything. It’s just a crush-fuck,” Lauren went on.

“Yeah, besides you jumped into the sac with everyone you ever had a crush on, Judes,” Frank said knowing how to push her buttons.

Just as Frank said that, Gene had taken a sip of his Bourbon but spit it back in his glass in shock. He then looked at Judy with his fist up to him mouth trying not to crack up for her benefit.

Judy calmly tapped the ash buds off her cigarette into the ashtray as she replied, “Not everyone, darling.”

Frank, sarcastically placed his hands on his chest, and acting surprised mouthed, “Me?”

“I wasn’t about to be a notch on that belt.”

Everyone laughed, including June who rubbed her friend’s back, “Good girl.”

Judy and Frank finally broke out in giggles at their playful banter.

“Alright, I guess it’s my turn,” Gene said turning to his buddy, “Truth or Dare, my man?”

“Dare.”

“Oo, dare, ok, let’s see…” Gene thought, “I dare you to genuinely propose to someone in this room right now.”

Frank nodded towards Lauren and June, “Well, you’re both already married…” he pointed at Gene, “You’ve got a dick,” he pointed at Peter, “You’ve got a dick,” he then pointed at Rich, “You are a dick...” he then immediately jumped up and plopped between Gene and Judy placing his arm around her, “Gene, old pal, do we have your blessing, Sir?”

Gene shrugged his shoulders, “That's between the two of you, not me.” Judy laughed, “No!" “It's up to her, not me,” Gene repeated. “Well, I said no,” Judy repeated herself. Peter chimed in, “Francis, you've got to get down on one knee the right way, whattaya doin’,” 

“I have bad knees. Judy, darling, can I see your hand?”

Judy looked at him cautiously, but with a smile, and hesitated until he wiggled his fingers wanting her hand. Then she gave it to him. He held it lovingly and caressed her skin with his thumb.

“Despite what rumors have been said in the past, we've never been romantically involved, but we are best friends and I love you dearly. I think it's time to develop a companionship into old age. I would like to ask you…”

“Oh, no,” Judy said, “Nope.”

June spoke up, “Frank, you've got to get on one knee.”

“Judy, will you…”

“No,” she said sternly.

“Fix me another drink?”

Judy laughed and got up grabbing his empty glass, “I'll fix you all the cocktails you want as long as you aren't proposing.”

“Oh, you would've said yes,” Lauren said.

Rich nodded, “I think she's more upset that he didn't ask!”

Gene agreed, “I think so, too.”

As Judy handed Frank another cocktail he looked at Rich, “You ready? Truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

“Let’s spice things up. You’ve been around a while. Have you ever caught a famous person doing the dirty in a public place and who was it?”

Rich nodded and smiled cheesy, “I have and they’re in this room.”

They all looked at one another but soon all eyes landed on Judy and Gene. When the couple realized they were who Rich was talking about they both looked surprised.

“You are such a fibber,” Judy shrieked, “You have not.”

“Oh, yes.”

“When,” Gene asked.

“The after-party for Summer Stock. My car was parked next to Gene’s in the private parking lot and when I went out there, you two were rollin’ around in the backseat like a couple of horny teenagers. It was dark, but it was totally you two.”

“We were just fooling around,” Gene said as Judy turned red.

“Oh, please, you two were totally humpin.”

“I honestly, don’t remember, I had so much to drink that night.”

“Gene doesn’t suffer from whiskey dick,” Lauren said.

“And how would you know,” Judy asked giggling.

“You told me!”

They all died of laughter.

“Did we,” Gene genuinely asked her.

“Probably,” she said and changed the subject, “Richie, your turn.” 

“Alright, Betty, Truth or Dare?”

“Let’s stick to truth.”

“Then let’s stick to keepin’ it dirty. Tell us a dirty little secret.”

Lauren thought a good moment before speaking up casually, “Van Johnson and I had a one night stand once.”

“Oh, I knew that,” Peter said taking a sip of his drink.

Judy and Gene turned to each other mouths both wide in complete shock as Van had been very good friends with them for years and he was notorious for spilling the beans about every nook and cranny in his life. 

“When?!” June asked.

“You’re putting us on,” Gene said seriously.

“What about Evie and Humphrey?” Judy asked almost appalled as those two were the loves of their lives.

“Oh, please, this was a one-time thing before either of us were married.”

“Does Bogie know,” Frank asked.

“Yah. I don’t know about Evie. Don’t you go around with that either, Sinatra. Alright, Junie, Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

“Who in this room would you want to see naked the most? I actually want to know this one.”

June pointed to Peter with a bashful smile. 

“I get double question,” Lauren made up, “Peter, I dare you to get in your birthday suit right now.”

A drunk Peter stood up and immediately took off his shirt revealing his surfer body, which he did often as a hobby. Everyone cheered and laughed but when he kicked off his shoes and started on his buckle, they realized he was really going to strip. When he got down to his skivvies, the girls were all shrieking and the men were cheering him on. When he yanked his boxer-briefs down, June and Judy both screamed and looked away. All the while, Lauren smiled and tapped her cigarette butts off. 

Peter jumped onto the couch and started hugging on June who screamed with laughter and tried getting away, nearly climbing onto of Judy in the process. She kept her hand out to block her view and got up.

“Where you going, honey?” Gene asked roaring with laughter.

“Judes, where you going?” Peter asked getting off of June to go after her. “I’m done, I’m done!” 

Peter covered himself and ran towards her. She screamed and bolted up the stairs losing a shoe in the process. 

Shortly after, since it was still early for the night owls, they all gathered outside to the small fire pit in the backyard and sat around in folding chairs as music played over the portable speaker. 

Gene stood at the edge of the lawn, watching the reflection of the moon on the lake in the distance, as he smoked a cigarette as the girls chatted on the other side of the fire pit.

Frank came up next to him and spoke with an sly voice, “I forgot to tell you, guess who I ran into the other day?”

“The last time you asked me that with that kind of tone, it had to do with that girlfriend of Ben Siegel,” Gene gave him a scheming look, “You know I’m not interested in anything to do with the mob.”

“Dalton Trumbo,” Frank said.

“Or that Hollywood Communist bullshit,” he added but remained in conversation since he had known Dalton from around MGM, “Is he out now?”

“Yep. He got out a few months ago.”

“How’s he doin’?”

“Happy to be back with Cleo and his kids.”

“I bet.”

“But he’s Blacklisted so who knows what he’s gonna do. Probably get into some B-movie studio if he remains in the business.”

“Too bad,” Gene said sincerely, “He’s damn good writer.”

An eruption of laughter from the three women got their attention and they turned around. Gene smiled when he saw Judy cracking up holding onto June’s hand as Betty was practically falling out of her chair.

“They’re a bunch of crazy gals,” Frank chuckled, “I’m glad you came. Betty said Judy might have to do some convincing.”

“It took me a moment to consider it. We’ve both been tired as hell from work and traveling.”

“Her European tour was a smash, I hear.”

“It was, man. She worked her ass off.”

“I wish I could have seen it, but I’m going to be there at the Palace for sure.”

“I’ve seen her work on camera, in the recording booth, on radio programs, but I have never witnessed her the way she was on stage. She’s got this magnetic hold on an audience. All she has to do is stand there and talk and they’re eating out the palm of her hands.”

“She’s like that when she performs live at Ciro’s or some other club.”

“Yeah, but this is different. A concert career was definitely the way to go after MGM booted her out. I thought she was at home doing what she was doing, but no. She really is her true self on stage.”

“She’s a vaudeville kid, it’s in her blood.”

“Yep.”

“Did everything run smoothly?”

“There were some hiccups, but with that one, things aren’t always going to run smoothly. That��s just Judy.”

“What, did you fly back and forth?”

“Yeah. I was there for her opening night at the Palladium and then her closing night, then flew over to Scotland with her to help her get settled in but left after her first night there. When her tour was over, she met up with me in France for a rest when I was finishing work on American in Paris. Liza was there with Vince so we all had a reunion.”

“What are you doing after this?”

“Singing in the Rain.”

“I heard about that. With Don.”

“Yeah, and this new girl Debbie Reynolds.”

“I met her, she’s a sweetie pie.”

“Green,” Gene said as he knew he was about to spend the whole movie teaching someone who wasn’t a dancer.

“So, are you going to be flying back and forth from New York then during this Palace run?”

“Unfortunately, but I’ll be there the first week. All the old gang is involved in preparation for it.”

“That place has become run down, I hope they’re renovating the hell out of it.”

“They are. It’s getting a whole makeover. Sol said it’s going to be ‘elegant as fuck’.”

“Whoever thought about putting Judy back on that Vaudeville stage is a genius.” Gene smiled, “Thank you.”

“You did? I thought her agent did.”

“No, he came up with the idea of a concert tour in Europe. When she got back, we both wanted her to continue here in the states. I’m not making this shit up - For Me and My Gal was playing on the Lux Radio Theater one day and I was listening to it and I thought, she should do that. She should really be Jo on stage at the Palace. Then a light bulb went off and I got on the phone right away.”

“You do remember what happens at the end of that movie, once they’re both on stage at the Palace,” Frank said grinning.

Gene chuckled nodding as he took another drag of his cigarette, “I’m planning on it, Buddy.”

Another eruption of laughter came from the girls and this time Judy was standing up, imitating someone, probably from the studio or from vaudeville, that she often did when she told stories. She was very good at storytelling and exaggeration. 

“She seems so much happier since leaving Metro,” Frank quipped. 

“It was a little daunting for her at first. As much as she wanted to be let go, it was all she knew really. She said to me, ‘I’ve been performing since I was  2, I’ve been working since 12, now I’m unemployed for the first time in my life. I don’t know what to do.’ I told her that she hadn’t had time off in like 16 years, to just enjoy it and be with Liza. But she got restless after a while and irritable and started getting depressed again, so I’m glad this concert thing happened. But I tell ya what, stress has been a major thing between us for a while.”

“It’s good you’re here then.”

Gene nodded, “It’s only been a day, but Judy out here, is a different person. I’m starting to feel that way myself.”

“Away from Hollywood, away from the bullshit back home.”

“Exactly. We should do this once a month” Gene said, “Fuck it, once a week.”

Frank laughed, “I think Lawford might frown upon that.”

Suddenly, a piercing scream came from Lauren and she knocked her chair over as she got up and ran.

“What?!” Peter shouted concerned as he came out the back door with a guitar. “Something just bit my ass!”

“Nothing bit your ass,” Frank said walking over.

“Through your shorts,” June asked.

“Let me see,” Rich said but Lauren pushed him away.

“Darling, it was probably just a mosquito,” Judy said trying not to laugh.

“Nope, I’m done. Goodnight ya’ll,” Lauren said waving as she walked towards the house leaving everyone laughing. 

“Nothing is biting my ass,” Frank said as he followed Lauren. 

Peter sat down on a chair, “Wuss’s. Alright, any requests?”

“Know any Ray Noble tune’s,” Richie asked.

“Very Thought of You,” Peter asked.

“The Very Thought of You,” Junie urged on.

On his guitar, by the fire, Peter started playing the 1934 jazz standard. June smiled and rest her chin on her husbands shoulder as her arms were wrapped around his arm. Gene motioned for Judy and she walked over to him. He immediately brought her against him and together they softly swayed to the romantic tune. 

“I love you,” he whispered.

“How much,” she teased.

“I love you more than singing and dancing, I love you more than ping pong and pool, I love you more than Paris…I even love you more than sex.”

Judy let out an amused snort, “That’s contradicting.”

Serious this time, he pulled back to look at her, “I really do love you, more than you know.”

“I know,” she said tracing her finger along his jaw, “I love you, too…but not more than sex.”

Together they laughed and continued swaying. 

The next morning, was a little after 9 and the Lawford house was still and quiet with the sounds of California birds happily chirping outside. In the semi-darkened living room, Gene and Judy were both curled up comfortably on the expensive pull-out couch. Gene was slightly hovered over her, softly applying butterfly kisses along her neck as his wrist moved ever-so-gently between her legs under the covers. Judy seemed asleep, but she was just relaxing to her man’s attention, a titillating alarm clock. Suddenly, they heard a door shut from upstairs and Gene stopped his caresses, rolling away from her so they wouldn’t be caught. “The hounds are waking up,” he said a little disappointed. “Why don’t you join me in the downstairs shower in a minute,” she whispered getting out of the bed and grabbing her robe then walked out with her small toiletries pouch Gene made up the bed, and put the mattress back in the couch, before he head downstairs. The shower was already on when he shut the door behind him. “Did you bring my shampoo, or do I have to use your flowery shit,” he said removing his pajamas. “I forgot, but Pete has some shampoo in here,” she said from the other side of the curtain. Gene examined his face in the mirror and ran his hand along his jaw, “Baby, should I shave or just wait until we get back home?” “Wait until after. I like you with a little 5 o’clock shadow.” “You like a little scruffiness, huh.” “Mm hm. Darling, can you grab my little loofa that’s in my bag?” “Only if I get to do your back,” he teased grabbing it. “I’d be insulted if you didn’t,” she said as he stepped into the shower with her. Shortly after, Lauren went down the stairs in her silk robe as Peter head up, “Morning.” “Morning, doll.” “If you want the bathroom down there, it’s occupied.” “Who’s in there?” “I saw Judy go in there. I think she’s in the shower.” “Oh, good, she won’t mind,” Lauren said as she kept down the stairs. In the bathroom, Gene spoke impatiently behind the curtain, “Come oooonnn.” “I told you, after I shampooooo,” she mimicked but then a few seconds later she started whining, “Honey, stop.” “You have about 1 minute until I start fucking you,” he chuckled. Suddenly she gasped and accidentally hit the shower curtain, “Don’t you dare tickle me,” a few seconds later she broke out in laughter, “Geneee.” “Shhh,” he laughed trying to keep their voices down, “Come here, sweetheart.” The room was silent for a moment when suddenly the door opened. “Judy, are you in here,” Lauren asked popping her head in. “Ah, y-yes,” Judy’s nervous voice answered. “Do you mind if I get ready in here while you shower? Richie’s taking forever. You know how well groomed that man is.” “We do mind,” Gene said peeking his head out from the curtain grinning naughtily. Lauren smiled flirtatiously, “Ooo, whatchu doin’ in there?” “Washing each other’s backs. You wanna join?” “Gene,” Judy shrieked embarrassed. “I’ll have to pass, darling,” Lauren casually commented. “Then get lost, would ya?” “Next time I would advise to lock the door, dear,” she said pushing the lock button in for them and then walked out shutting the door behind her.                As Judy unsteadily grabbed the small bar in the shower, a shampoo bottle fell with a loud bang, but it didn’t startle either of them as they had sex for the first time in almost two weeks. Only the sound of the shower water erratically hitting the shower floor and their heavy breaths echoed throughout the bathroom. Gene couldn’t see her face, but the look of her knuckles turning white as she held onto the bar for dear life, and her body tightening around his cock, was sure signs she was close. They were both maintaining, but struggling, not to be vocal for neither wanted the gang to hear them.

Gene was struggling even more not to explode. Every vein in his body was popping, muscled strained, as he pumped in and out of her in long, hard strokes. He was about to release A LOT of stress. Gene took his hands off her hips and maneuvered he up so her back pressed against his chest. He placed his left on her breast and the other between her legs. The extra stimulation as her climax neared, made her drop her head and softly cry out in desperation. It was only a few more seconds when her body tensed. Gene quickly placed his hand over her mouth muffling her tiny scream as her eyes squeezed shut. He bit back his own pleasurable moans as his orgasm soon exploded into her warmth. He continued, growling from his chest, until they were both completely saturated.                It was around 10:30 when everyone met up in the kitchen all dressed. Peter and June were making brunch for all of them as Lauren made her famous Bloody Marys. The early morning blue sky was now gray as it started raining. Judy and Gene walked in as the first clap of thunder from the distance rolled in which made Gene stop in his tracks.

“Oh, what the hell,” he said seeing it raining.

“My sentiments exactly,” Peter quipped, “I wanted to get right on the fucking boat after we ate.”

“Shush, it will stop,” June said nudging his arm as they continued with the breakfast.

Judy walked over to the counter and switched on the radio as Gene walked over to Lauren, “Your famous Bloody Mary’s.”

“Yes, sir. Would you like one?”

“Not right now, but thanks,” he declined. He and Judy both weren’t drinkers before dinnertime except on special occasions.

“How was your shower,” Lauren smiled.

Gene didn’t answer but he returned the smile. Judy glanced at them over her shoulder turning red but ignored Lauren’s gaze and walked around grabbing a grape from the fruit bowl. “Do you want one, baby, extra vodka,” Lauren asked her. “Yes, please,” She saw Gene’s surprised look, “I’m on vacation.”

Gene put his hands up as if not to argue with the lady.

“Where’s Francis?” Rich asked.

Peter pointed to the sunroom. Rich and Gene both looked into the sunroom and there was Frank, lounging on the couch swing, fast asleep with a newspaper on his chest.

“Should we dare?”

Gene smiled, “We dare.”

The men walked back into the kitchen and Rich picked up a thin slice of pastrami from June’s cutting board. He handed it to Gene to which Gene walked into the sun room quietly. Judy sipped her Bloody Mary but leaned to the side to see what they were up to.

Lauren walked over to the doorway not knowing Frank was asleep, “Frank, do you want a…”

The two men quickly shushed her. She saw Gene standing over him with the pastrami and she placed a hand on her hip giving the a mother’s look. Judy walked in the doorway to watch as well. Gene made a funny face, trying not to laugh, before he smacked the pastrami slice right on Frank’s face before practically hopping away.

Frank opened one eye confused but remained completely still. When he realized there was meat on his face, he shut his eye to go back to sleep. Meanwhile, Rich and Gene were cracking up and Judy was bent over laughing hysterically.

“I’m gonna pee my pants,” she was able to get out.

“What happened,” Junie asked intrigued.

“They threw something on Frank,” Peter answered.

Lauren walked into the sunroom and took the meat off his face, “Do you want a Bloody Mary?”

“Yeah,” he grumbled.

“Would you like me to roll this up and put it on the olive stick?” she smiled.

“You boys love pranking each other,” June giggled as they all started placing plates on the long table off the kitchen.

“Remember MPD,” Gene said.

“What’s MPD,” Lauren asked.

“Metro Prank Day. It was on the Friday before Halloween every year.”

“For the whole studio?”

“Most of us knew about it,” Gene said, “I think it started between Mickey Rooney and Jackie Cooper in 1940, right honey?”

“Ya, mm hm. Went on for 10 years until LB found out after that food fight in the commissary and put an end to it,” she giggled.

“I wish we could’ve seen it,” Gene added.

“I was there. It was nutso. To think a bunch of movie stars having a food fight,” June said recalling it.

“Not just movie stars, but grown ass adults,” Rich added who was also there that day.

“That was the same prank day that Gene put shaving cream in my heels,” Judy retorted with a raised eyebrow.

“He what?” Lauren asked shocked.

“Yeah,” Judy nodded, “We were doing Summer Stock and he put shaving cream in my heels that I was to wear on set.”

“She stepped right into those suckers, too,” Gene said laughing remembering.

“Tell them what I did to you that year.”

“She drew this big, Italian-cook style mustache on me with her eyeliner and big bushy eyebrows when I fell asleep between scenes.” Judy started laughing remembering and he continued, “I walked onto the scene like that until Charlie Walters said, ‘Gene, what the Sam hell is on your face?’”

Gene and Judy both cracked up.

“That prank day, I witnessed a different side of Judy,” Peter said.

Judy thought a moment before gasping, “Oh, when you were going to…”

“Oh, the water,” Gene cut in.

“What happened,” June asked.

“At the end of the day, I was going to throw a bucket of water on Judy and Gene as they were leaving, but she caught me and she was so angry. She called me a motherfucker.” They all laughed. “She practically pushed Gene down and ran away and said, ‘Get the hell away from me motherfucker.’”

“Baby, you’re turning red there,” Gene said Judy tried not to smile.

“Your heels with shaving cream was nothing, Judes,” Peter said, “How about getting chaffed by Phil Silvers?”

“Chaffed,” Lauren asked shocked.

Gene responded excitedly, “Oh, I remember that!”

“My god damn inner thighs were on fire. I had flamin’ thighs.”

Judy started cracking up.

“I have this distinct memory of you walking on the studio lot the next day and you had these big over-sized pants on and you kind of just waddled in like you just got off a horse,” Gene said as they all laughed.

“You were going, ‘Oh, my legs, my legs,’ You had baby powder and lotion…”

Judy nearly spit out her drink laughing, “I remember the sensitive skin lotion he had to moisturize.”

“Did you learn some stuff from that,” Lauren quipped naughty.

They finished setting the table and Frank walked in, “Here it comes.”

“What?”

“Listen.”

They all were quiet a moment when all of a sudden the roof was pounded with a downpour.

Gene groaned with sincere annoyance, “I didn’t come all the way out here to spend my vacation in a monsoon.”

“Like I control the weather,” Peter said.

“There goes your golfing today,” Gene said to Judy as if he wanted to get her as annoyed as he was.

“Oh, stop whining,” she said.

“Someone’s being grumpy,” Junie said.

“I’m surprised you’re so grumpy after your shower session this morning.”

Gene looked at Lauren with wide eyes as Lauren was usually not one to kiss and tell in regards to others.

“Would you shut up,” Judy whispered embarrassed. When Lauren gave her a sorry look Judy giggled, “Jesus.”

Suddenly, they heard the front door shut.

“Expecting someone?”

“No,” Peter said baffled as he left the room.

“Here,” Judy said as she shoved a small, rolled up piece of meat towards Gene’s mouth.

He quickly made a ‘gross’ face and leaned away, “What is it?”

“Here, just take a bite.”

“No,” he said swatting her hand away.

“It’s only prosciutto and feta cheese,” she said.

“I don’t like ham, babe,” Gene said.

“It doesn’t taste like American ham. Here,” Judy said and shoved the bite size piece into his mouth.

“Shh,” Lauren suddenly said.

“What?”

They were quiet and suddenly heard a familiar women’s cackle from the other room getting closer.

“Oh, you’re kidding,” Frank said surprised as he bolted out of the room.

Judy looked at Lauren displeased, “I thought you said she wasn’t coming.”

“He said she wasn’t.”

“Who,” Gene asked.

“Ava,” Judy answered. Then she and Gene shared the same understanding look as they sat down next to each other at the table.

Peter entered the room followed by Frank who had his fiancé, Ava Gardner, on his arm. Everyone gave her a hug and warm greeting except for Gene and Judy who remained seated. As the rest seated, Ava touched Gene’s arm with a friendly smile, “Hey there.”

“Hi,” he said friendly back but didn’t return the smile.

“Hi, Judy.”

Judy forced a bit of a smile ignoring the other woman’s eyes as she purposefully reached for the fruit bowl.

“I’m glad you were able to make it, honey,” Frank said.

“Me, too. I have to be back on Tuesday, but at least I have a few days off. Thought I’d surprise you. What a lovely spread,” she said as they all started eating.

They all started chit-chatting and when there was a lull in the conversation, June spoke up, “Was it raining the whole way?”

“No, but it started to downpour when I got into town. Has it been raining here since you all came?”

“No, just started,” Pete said.

“Hopefully it stops soon so you can join in on the fun,” Rich said.

“I know how tight-knit the group is. I’m grateful to be a part of it. I’m glad you’re all happy to see me,” Ava’s eyes darted to Judy and Gene as they remained to themselves, “Well, all except you...” she looked at Gene then to Judy with a giggle, “And you.”

Ava said it as if to maybe have the couple immediately respond with, ‘No, of course we’re happy to see you,’ but all of a sudden, the air was thick with tension and everyone continued to eat in silence for a moment.  

“So, Judy, how was your concert tour in Europe?”

Judy placed her elbows on the table and rest her chin on her hands, her eyes piercing. When she didn’t answer, Ava repeated the question getting irritated herself. She looked at Gene as if you had to get through him first before Judy, “Gene, how was her concert tour in Europe?”

He wiped his mouth with his napkin, “It was a big success.”

“Why do you care,” Judy tilted her head at the woman inquisitively.

They all looked at Judy surprised at her catty tone.

“Because I’m your friend,” Ava said a little baffled.

“As far as I’m concerned, friends do not betray one another.”

“How on earth have I ‘betrayed’ you? I haven’t even seen you since before you left for London and that was what, February?”

“Here we go,” Peter said leaning towards Lauren, as they were well aware of the situation.

“When we were all out at Mocambo for Elizabeth’s birthday, I specifically asked everyone in our group, including you, to not mention my divorce. And every one, but you and David Selznick, respected that. We had press surrounding us that night. I was being asked nonstop about it and I ignored the subject out of respect for my husband and my daughter. I expected my friends to do the same.”

“I was listening to Dave go on about it. I didn’t say anything,” Ava responded matter-of-factly.

“But you're my friend, as my friend, you’re not supposed to just ���listen’. You do what everyone else did when they were asked about it: you ignore it. You could have said, ‘Now is not the right time, David.’”

“I am going to listen because he’s also my friend. I am not a rude person to tell him to put a sock in it. What did you want me to do?”

“Frank declined to comment when Louella asked him about us,” Judy said trying to get her point across.

Gene chimed in, “Lauren, when you were at lunch with Hedda, what did you do when she started talking about her divorce?”

“I shut her up real quick,” Lauren said nodding.

“Judy, I was not speaking about it, he was.”

“You allowed it to be talked about and you knew reporters were around us. I’ve not spoken to David since that night when Dorothy Kilgallen came up to me and told me what he was saying. But, he was LB Mayer’s son-in-law so I expect that from him.”

“That was 6 months ago. I’m sorry if I offended you in anyway, but it’s over with now. Your divorce is done, you’re living with Gene, can’t you just forget about it?”

“If you were just anybody, then I would forget about it. I’m still upset about it because you’re planning on marrying one of my best friends which means we’re going to be together a lot. When we were filming Girl, Crazy, people were asking me nearly every day about your split from Mickey and I told them it was none of our business. You weren’t even my friend then, but Mickey was, so I respected your private life.”

“I do appreciate that. But can I say one thing? Why didn't you just say something to the press about your divorce? Maybe then they would've left you alone. They're still writing about how you and Gene broke up the 'finest marriage of MGM'.”

Gene exhaled through his nose and pushed back against the table with his hands trying not to respond. Judy tapped him on the leg as if telling him to just ignore it.

“I told you, I respect my child and I respect Vince. Respect, and pleading the fifth to the press is the right way to get a divorce,” she pointed sternly at Frank, “And you listen up as well mister, do you hear me?”

“Listen up,” he asked as he didn’t want to get involved in the argument between his best girlfriend and his fiancé.  

“You have been going around the columnists bragging about Ava. How do you think Nancy feels?”

“I don’t brag. I own my shit. And Nancy hasn’t been showing me respect.”

“Gee,” she said with her best, sarcastic, actress voice, “I wonder why.”

Gene looked over at her with wide eyes not expecting that from her especially to Frank.

“Judes,” Frank said a little shocked at her behavior.  

Ava leaned forward on her forearms as if challenging Judy, “You’re really sitting there, talking to us about our affair, when you cheated on both of your husband’s with Gene here, and God knows who else…” she trailed off.  

Judy looked at Gene with a serious, but sly expression, who gave her the same look back. The couple never discussed, or explained, their private life in regards to their affair at MGM except with the very few who had known about it since the start which were only Dottie, Kay Thompson and Frank. And to this day, none of the trio had spoken to anyone else about it. Everyone sitting at the table, right now, didn’t even know the entire backstory. They found out like everyone else - when Judy and Gene came out publicly with their relationship in September of 1950 after Judy was fired from MGM and each were legally separated from their spouses.

Judy was about to speak when Gene placed his hand on her leg and squeezed it. He didn't want to make her explain anything and put her vulnerability out there, so he took the bait instead.

“I understand what you’re getting at, Ava, and although some of the circumstances are relevant, there is no comparison.”  

“Oh, really,” she asked sarcastically.

“Really,” he said getting angry, “I never say nothin’ to nobody regarding my personal life, but the fact that you, and everyone else, assumes our relationship is what broke up her marriage to Vince is why I’m gonna say somethin’ now…”

“Gene,” Judy said uncomfortable.

He ignored her, “Now listen up…every one of you fuckers here at this table…”

“Darling,” Judy said embarrassed.

“No, Judy. I’m tired of everyone assuming things. We’re finally free to be together, why not just tell them? These are our friends,” he said and all she could do was just give a willful nod. “Judy and I have heard the rumors, like all of you have heard, but we usually laugh because we don’t give a shit what people think because we know the truth. But you’re our friends and we love you so here’s our truth. We’ve been hearing that people are saying we started an affair during Summer Stock and that’s what broke up Judy’s marriage which is probably the funniest rumor of them all. We actually started going together during our first picture together, almost 10 years ago, when Judy was still married to Rose. Our relationship…you see how I say ‘relationship’ and not ‘affair’,” he said eyeing in on Ava to prove his point, “…was on and off for all those years. Yes, it was extramarital, and yes, we were involved with other lovers throughout that time, but together, we weren’t just ‘fucking’. We were best friends, equals, soul mates. I know I sound like a sap, but it’s true. We fell in-love, but timing was never right, but that’s not relevant. During our last picture, things got very serious between us as I was separated from my wife and Judy was estranged from Vince. Betsy and Vince both knew we were together at that time. Up until then, we had kept it a secret all those years, except for Frank here…”

They all looked at Frank shocked and he smiled, “I’m a good friend, what can I say.”

Gene continued, “Our ‘good ol’ buddy Selznik’ that we’ve talked about said to me that night at Liz’ party, ‘Judy cheated on her first husband with you, her second husband with you, she’ll cheat on you, too.’  I said, ‘How can she cheat on me with me?’”

Judy looked at him surprised, “You never told me that.”

“We’re not proud of what we’ve done during our marriages, and I know Judy often feels guilt-ridden, but we both believe everything happens for a reason. I’ve known this girl since she was eighteen. I’m in it for the long run,” he looked at Ava, “This ain’t no ‘fuck em’ and leave em’ Hollywood story that you think, dear.”

Lauren made a ‘Ooo’ smile as June got Judy’s attention and mouthed ‘marry him’ to her. Judy gave her an appreciative look, but the subject had been all too heavy for a smile.

“There is no comparison with us related to you two,” Judy added calmly.

“Maybe not in that way, but Frank and I fell in-love, too, and let’s face it, I bet everyone of us at this table hasn’t always been monogamous,” Ava added.

Frank chimed in to Judy, “Baby, stop being so protective. I know you mean well, and I adore you for it, but I’m a big boy, I can take care of myself. And I do love her, ya know.”

“I just don’t want to see another one of my good friends get hurt by her again. First Mickey, then Artie, now you.”

“Just so you now, Mickey cheated first, and from what I heard was even porking some chorus girl when I was in the hospital for a appendectomy. And Artie was the biggest fucking bully out there. I don’t think this is really about me and Frank. I think it’s about you.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“You’re just jealous Mickey, Frank and Artie all preferred me and Lana over you.” 

Gene’s mouth opened and he immediately took Judy’s arm afraid she might throw her drink in the other woman’s face starting a brawl. Instead, Judy whipped her arm away, and scooted her chair back with a screech, before walking out of the room. Gene sighed heavily before he got up to follow her out.

“What, no retaliation back from Mr. Mayer’s precious Dorothy,” Ava said sarcastically.

Suddenly, Gene turned on his heels and shouted, “Hey!” Some of them jumped, including Ava, who turned to look at him and his eyes were looking straight at her, “Don’t call her that. You have no idea what that girl’s been through.” Without another word, he left the room.

“It’s called ‘having class’, darling,” Lauren said as she lit a cigarette.  

Frank sighed and leaned into Ava, “You know her history with the Artie shit. Did you have to hit so low under the belt?”

“She started attacking me, first. What did you want me to do?”

Frank looked at the others and shrugged having to agree with her, “I mean, she has a point.”

“What shocks me the most is that Judy is not a confrontational person…” Lauren said.

“At all,” Peter added taking another bite of his food.

“At all,” Lauren repeated then continued sincerely, “And she never gets involved in the subject of others’ relationships. So, imagine what she was feeling for her actually speak up the way she did just now.”

“It wasn’t an attack. I think she just felt betrayed by you, as her friend, for not defending her to David with the divorce thing and now she sees you about to marry someone that’s like a brother to her. She wanted to get things off her chest. She’s being protective is all, just like Frank said,” Junie added.

“I can’t believe they been together since My Gal. Do you know how many times I worked with them during that time,” Rich said amused.

“Ava, look,” Lauren said, “Judy may be little, but she’s a feisty, son-of-a-bitch who will not let you forget it. She has two sides…she’s either the funniest, life of the party dame you will ever be with or, what she calls herself, ‘the Black Irish Witch.’”

“One time I said something shitty about Fred Finklehoffe in front of her. She stared at me with this dark look, I nearly pissed myself,” Peter said.

“I can attest to that. She can make you so scared your balls r’ touchin’ the back of your shorts,” Frank said to Peter.

“If you want to be her friend, do not get on her bad side. I would swallow it and just apologize,” Lauren urged.

Gene walked around the house looking for Judy but didn’t find her so he made his way to the back of the house when he heard a small noise coming from another room. “Hun?” “I’m in here,” he heard her voice say and he walked into the office library. Judy was standing facing one of the book shelves, her hands on her elbows as her eyes gazed upon the literature curiously. “You, ok?”

“Yah,” she said and reached for a photo album that caught her eye. Gene sat on the arm of the leather love seat, “Liar.”

Judy looked at him and her face was completely neutral, “I am. I just needed to…remove myself from the situation.”

“Before…” he asked smiling cheekily.

She raised her eye brow warningly, “Before I did something I’d regret.”

“That’s why I grabbed your arm. She ain’t worth it.”

“I know. It doesn’t matter anymore. I just needed a moment,” she said sitting down next to him with the photo album labeled ‘MGM’ in her lap.

“What she said to you was low. She had some hellava nerve.”

Judy let out a long sigh and opened the album, “Let’s just drop it.”

“Well, at least you were able to say everything you’ve been thinking’.”

“I prefer not to have conversations like that.”

“I know you don’t, baby, but doesn’t it feel a little better to get it off your chest?”

“Does it feel better after telling everyone our whole story,” she said back in a bit of a bitchy tone.

“Well, one, it was the synopsis version. The actual details are no one’s business. And two, yes, it does feel better. I know we’re private about it, but like I said, I was sick of everyone assuming. Doesn’t it make you feel better that our best friends know the truth instead of them also assuming from what they hear around the lot?”

Judy had to agree as she looked at the photographs, “Yes. All of this just makes me uncomfortable.”

“Me, too,” he said reaching over and leaving a kiss on top her head.

“Oh my gosh, darling, look,” Judy giggled and pointed to a photo of them.

It was them on the Easter Parade set. He was standing with his crutches watching as Judy was filming her ‘Mr. Monotony’ scene.

“That’s always gonna be my one regret,” he said shaking his head, “Breaking that damn ankle and not working on that picture.”

“Me, too, but at least you helped get the next best thing for me,” she said pinching his cheek referring to Fred Astaire coming out of retirement to work with her.

“I’m still a little miffed they cut this scene. I really liked it.”

“It was a little sexy.”

“Probably why they cut it,” she joked.

“If that’s true, they should’ve just thrown away Pirate, hm?”

“Well, they did get rid of that Voodoo number,” she quipped.

“Now, that was sexy,” he said his eyebrows rising intrigued, “I had to rub one out after that scene.”

“Gene,” she laughed shocked.

They commented on other photos of their Metro peers when coming up on another one of them. It was Gene and Judy laughing as he gave her a piggy back ride down the studio lot in their ‘Ballin’ the Jack’ costumes from their first picture. Judy placed a finger on it and they were both quiet a moment sharing silent memories during that time.

“Man, I didn’t know shit back then,” he murmured.

Judy leaned into Gene in awe, “Look at them.”

“We were so cute.”

“I remember that day,” she said softly.

“So do I. I remember every single day during that time,” he said with a bittersweet tone but then his expression changed a bit naughty, “We had a lot of fun.”

Judy giggled, “Yes, we did.”

They leaned in for a kiss and he replied, “Seeing this photograph of us, no one would ever know what we were going through behind the scenes…how unhappy we were in our personal lives.”

“The only time I actually really enjoyed coming to the studio was when I knew I would be working with you.”

“That’s why I agreed to Summer Stock, sweetheart,” he said patting her leg.

“I’m so grateful you were part of my last movie there,” she said a little emotional.

“Yep, and a successful one at that. But now, onward and upward, baby. Your Europe tour was a hit but your Palace run is gonna lead to a whole other career for you.”

“You really think so?”

“I do..”

“I just want it to be fucking fantastic,” she said with great efficacy.

“It’s gonna be huge, you can bet on it.”

“I’m still so damn nervous, Gene.”

“You have rehearsals coming up soon. And you have the best of the best putting it together with you. You’ll be just fine. Plus, I’ll be there in the wings, opening night, so there’s nothing to be nervous about.”

“You promise,” she said grabbing his hand. 

“I promise.”

“No matter what?”

“No matter what. I never want to let you down, Judy.”

She smiled before engulfing him in a hug.

That afternoon, the storm cleared and it was nothing but sunshine and blue sky with a perfect Summer temp in the upper 80’s. The whole clan piled onto Lawford’s large speed boat in their sunbathing clothes and swim wear.  

Peter drove the boat around Lake Camille, but after 20 minutes, stopped in a good area so they could float. Surprisingly, the lake wasn’t busy. Just a few other boats were scattered around.

In the back of the boat, Judy, in a plunging, black one-piece suit, with a skirt wrapped around her waist, and Lauren, in a white, high-waisted bikini, were sunbathing against the back cushions in relaxing in silence as the radio played some slow jazz tunes.

Lauren looked over at Judy and lowered her sunglasses, “What’s with this music?”

“I was just going to say that. We’re on a boat having fun and he’s playing some sad music.”

“Yeah, why is he playing sad shit? I’ll go tell him to change it. He’s playing some mellow stuff. We need to get boppin’,” Lauren said as she got up.

Lauren passed Ava who came walking up with a daiquiri in her hand. Judy pretended not to pay attention as Ava cautiously sat next to her. They were both silent, but Judy could sense the other woman wanted to talk so she looked over at her. When she did, Ava gently smiled. “I’m sorry.”

Judy took off her sunglasses and placed them on top her hair that was pulled into a French twist, “I’m not usually like that. I hope you understand why I confronted you about it.”

“I do sympathize, but I want you to know, I never did anything purposefully to hurt you.”

“Except for the comment about the boys.”

“That I am truly sorry for. It was beneath me. I was just retaliating because I felt like I was being attacked.”

“I never, ever want anyone to feel attacked by me, because I know what it feels like, so for that I’m also truly sorry. All of it is just a very sensitive subject.”

“I do know you were just being protective of Frank, too. But believe me, Judy, I really do love him. And he loves me.”

Judy softly smiled, “Who am I to get in the way of love then.”

“I know we won’t always see eye-to-eye, but can we just agree to disagree?” “Of course,” Judy said sincerely.

Frank got Ava’s attention and she excused herself but Junie came bouncing over to Judy.

“Why are you over here all by yourself?”

“Just relaxing. I’ll join the party soon.”

All of a sudden, a small paper plane fell onto Judy’s lap startling her a second. “What the heck,” Junie said.

Both the ladies looked up, and on the small second tier of the boat where the captain seat was, they saw Gene, clad only in his swim trunk and sunglasses. He was looking up whistling trying to be inconspicuous.

“Dang, he’s got good aim.”

“He does have great coordination. He’s great at all sports. My paper plane would’ve landed in the water.”

Judy looked at it, and it said ‘open me’ on the wing. She opened it and it simply said 'I love you' in Gene’s unmistakable handwriting. June leaned over to look and immediately made an ‘awe’ face.

Judy smiled and fold the paper back up before looking back at up at him. This time he was looking at her smiling. She gave an air smooch to him and he winked before turning back to Pete. The music suddenly changed to more of an upbeat and Lauren gave Judy a thumbs up.

“He is just so sweet,” June commented.

“He is a darling.”

“Handsome,” she said raising her eyebrows provocatively.

“He’s dreamy,” Judy agreed, “After knowing him for 10 years, I still get butterflies when he looks at me a certain way. And I can still get emotional when he does cute things like that. I just hope Liza finds someone like that. How did I get so lucky, you know?”

“That’s how I feel about Richie. We all have to go through the trial and error of frogs, before the right Prince Charming, honey.”

“Funny…I always think they’re Prince Charming in the beginning.”

“We all do. But this one is it, isn’t it?”

Judy nodded, “Yes.”

“And now you both don’t have to sneak around. I think it’s absolutely delicious that you two have been a thing all this time. Was it the dancing that attracted you to him? ‘Cause let me tell you – watching him dance on screen is a major turn on.”

Judy laughed, “You’re terrible. No, it was his smile..and his arms.” Both ladies laughed.

“And now you have the whole package.”

“I know. He takes care of me. And more important, he’s a nice fella. He brings me my tea when I wake up, when he’s at work he’ll call me and make sure I’m okay. He helps me with my career. He does anything for me.”

“He’s head over heels for you, too."

“You think that, really?” Judy asked honestly.

“Of course. You can just see it the way he looks at you. Do you not see that?”

“I’m afraid I suffer from a bit of self-doubt, darling.

A lot of people knew this about Judy, especially June, who then took Judy's hand in hers, "Judy, the way I see it – look how long it took for you two to finally be together. Knowing Gene as I do, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t have bought a house with you if you if he weren’t 100% sure of your relationship. Look how long it took him finally get out of his unhappy marriage. He's a very thorough person."

“That’s true. He never makes life decisions on a whim.”

“You better marry him.”

“Oh, I plan to. But not for a little while.”

“Have you talked about it?”

“Not really. It’s something we know will happen but we never officially discussed it.”

“Do you think he will propose soon?”

“Maybe. Maybe when his next picture is over and I’m done with Palace. I know he’d want to get married once we can have some time off.” Judy’s eyes darted up where Gene was, “But I'd marry him right now on the spot if there was a judge and marriage license."

A few hours later, after they came back to shore, everyone went for a swim before retreating back to the house and lolled around. The sun was setting as everyone remained outside but Judy and Lauren hung out inside  listening to music in the living room fresh-faced, clad already in their pajamas. Both were enjoying a glass of wine. The radio started playing Doris Day’s ‘Tea for Two’. 

“Oh, I loved this movie,” Judy quipped. 

“She is probably the most genuine girl out there. Have you met her?” 

Judy nodded, “I seen her around town, but I was able to officially meet her a few years ago at a premiere of a film she made with my friend Jack Carson.”

“Oh, you know, Jack?”

“We worked the Vaudeville circuit together when we were kids.”

Gene walked in and looked a little surprised seeing the ladies ready for bed, “Are we having a slumber party?”

“We’re pooped out from the sun,” Lauren said.

“Wanted to get comfy,” Judy added.

Peter walked into the room, inhaling from a joint, then casually handed it to Lauren who took a hit. She then handed it towards Judy.

“The last time I had marijuana was when I was still married to Dave and I fell straight on my face.” 

Lauren handed it to Gene who took a hit. When Judy saw this, she thought, ‘What the hell.’ It might relax her. And she ushered Gene over. The four sat around for a little bit, chatting and passing it around, listening to music. Alright folks, now here’s a an oldie but a goodie by America’s past-time sweethearts Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland. The song was requested by little Shirley Mae as it’s her 10th birthday today. Happy Birthday, Shirley and enjoy your song.

Suddenly, Judy and Mickey’s ‘Good Mornin’’ started and everyone smiled as they looked at Judy. They assumed she would tell them to change the channel but instead she got up and started singing with her younger self. Gene laughed knowing it was the weed. Frank walked into the room and immediately joined in singing Mickey’s part. They put on a show as the others watched delighted. 

When it was over, Judy laughed and hugged her friend, “That was fun.”

“Where is everyone else,” Gene asked.

“They went for a walk,” Frank replied. 

As the three started a conversation, Judy mindlessly walked over by the piano in the corner and ran her finger over a few keys as if concentrating on which to play. She hummed and then played a few keys as if trying to get it right. 

“More than you…” she sang before humming it again and played some keys.

Lauren noticed and walked over, “What’re you trying to play.”

“More Than You Know. Song’s been in my head.”

“I know it. How about this? I’ll play it, you sing it,” Lauren said sitting down on the bench.

“Alright,” Judy said and sat down next to Lauren.

Lauren started playing and then Judy started singing the intro verse of the song, very softly, as if it were background music in a restaurant with everyone else chatting. But quickly the men all came to a hush as they watched.  

More than you know More than you know Man of my heart I love you so Lately, I find You’re on my mind More than you know…

Gene watched her intently as her voice, always seductive but sweet, hummed around the room straight into his soul. Her bare face looked fresh, her skin had a glow from the sun and her hair was forming curls still damp from the water. Usually she sang around the piano like this at parties, looking like the starlet she was, with her black lashes, red lips and party dress. That was Judy Garland. Right now, she was Frances Gumm.

“I’m going to marry that girl,” Gene softly said.

Frank didn’t know if Gene had murmured that to him, or to himself, but he replied, “She needs someone like you.”

Judy’s eyes looked into her love’s, a hint of a smile on her lips as she sang the lyrics. Gene looked back, a twinkle in his eye.

The next morning, Judy stood on the back porch with a cup of tea in her hands, her long, black, silk robe blowing in the breeze. Everyone was still asleep and the sun was bright orange rising along up in the dawn sky, along the lake front. The early morning birds were chirping and the water was still. It was all so peaceful, it felt like Judy’s mind, at the moment, didn’t have one ounce of anxiety, which is what occasionally plagued her throughout the day.

“What are you doing up?”

Judy turned as Gene stood in the doorway. He still wore his gray t-shirt, navy pajama pants and his hair was messy.

“I woke up and couldn’t fall back to sleep.”

Gene walked out and gave her a peck on the lips, “Good morning.”

“Morning.”

He rubbed her back as he looked at the scenery before him.

“Isn’t it pretty?”

“It’s very nice.”

He looked over watching as her face was probably the most relaxed he had seen it in a long time and he bit his bottom lip with an idea.

“Come walk with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just down there.”

“Right now?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” she hesitated and giggled, “Honey, it’s so early and I don’t feel like dressing yet.”

“We don’t have to dress. It’s just a morning walk on the beach. No one’s out here. Here, let me take that, I’ll be right back. Stay there.”

She watched a little surprised as Gene darted inside to put her cup of tea in the kitchen and was gone not 30 seconds before he popped back out and took her hand. Together, they walked down the steps and to the beach just below the house. Barefoot, they held hands and walked slowly along the front in silence for a minute just enjoying the calm of the early morning and of each other.

“See, isn’t this nice.”

“Yes,” she said laying her head on his shoulder a moment, “Although I feel silly walking out here in our pajamas.”

“You love the spontaneity.”

“I do,” she giggled.

As they walked some more, Gene released her hand, but kept a hand on her back for a little as they walked. Subtly, he took his hand off her back and slowed his steps as she continued walking not noticing that he stopped. “Darling, do you think one day we could get a vacation spot out here?” When she didn’t get a response, and noticed he wasn’t next to her anymore, she furrowed her eye brows, “Gene?”

Judy turned around and let out a gasp. She placed her hands over her mouth as Gene was six steps behind her, on his knee, with a velvet ring box in his hand.

When the first initial shock of seeing him faded away, Judy laughed delighted, “What?!”

Gene smiled as she rushed up to him. She placed her hands on his shoulders and spoke almost with a hush tone, “What are you doing?”

His smile faded and he spoke with a very loving but serious tone, “Judy…”

Judy let out a whimpered cry as she placed her hands back on her mouth. She looked away a moment, shaking her head, in disbelief that it was finally happening.

“Sweetheart, come here,” he said reaching for her hand.

She gave her hand to him and she fell to her knees in font of him to be equal, “You’re crazy,” she laughed through her tears. Gene laughed with her and she continued, “Where did you get that?”

She looked at the closed ring box. He head barely left her sight for a moment since they’d been here. She had so many questions.

“I’ve had it for a while. Do you want to see it?” She nodded but he continued, “I have to say something first,” he took both her hands in his and they sank down sitting on the back of their heels in the sand, “I know that you’ve been expecting this since we moved in together. And I know you wanted to marry me after you divorced David. At that time, I couldn’t. You understand why, don’t you?”

Judy gave one simple nod, knowing he wasn’t ready to leave his wife and daughter for their fresh, extramarital relationship back then.

“So, I know you’re going to say ‘yes’. But, I need you to know this…” he saw her take a breath in as her eyes continued welling up with tears and he tried to swallow his one, “You always tell people that I’m different because ever since we met, I’ve seen you as a person, as an equal. And that’s 100% true. And I know you hate it when people only see you as a voice, or as a movie star or a celebrity. But, marrying you means that I’m also marrying that voice, that movie star and that celebrity. I’m marrying Frances Gumm and Judy Garland. I want both of us to understand that.”

“Like Eugene Curran and Gene Kelly,” Judy said joking, trying to make light of the situation which she often did when things got a little too heavy even if it was a good situation.

“Exactly.”

“Did you plan this?”

“Not at all, sweetheart. I was going to propose on the opening of The Palladium, but everything was amazing and just too much. I didn’t want to take away from what you were experiencing then. And I wanted to wait until the Palace, but…I don’t know. It just seems like the right time. I can’t wait.”

Judy giggled and wiped a tear away, “It’s very romantic.”

He became serious again, “I love you, Judy. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want us to help each other and grow together and get through whatever life throws at us, together. You’re it for me, baby. You have been for a long time. I just…” he paused and looked down clenching his jaw getting emotional.

Judy tapped him under the chin, “You’re an honest man, I know that. You had a wife and new baby. Because of your decision to stay with your family, I ended up having Liza. Glass half full, darling.”

“I know we both haven’t had a good track record in the relationship department, but I think now we’ve finally got it right….” he said sincerely and suddenly Judy got a split image of her father in her mind and she started crying knowing he was right, this marriage would be it for them.

“Judy…” Gene opened the ring box showing a beautiful, vintage large diamond ring and she laughed and gently pushed on his arm still not believing this was happening.

“This is crazy…” she interrupted.

“Will you marry me?”

She smiled and nodded, more tears falling as he placed the ring on her left hand. They kissed passionately before she jumped in his arms excited nearly toppling over into the sand.

“WHAT’S GOING ON?!”

They looked up and on the porch saw June standing there confused. Judy stood up and lifted her left hand yelling, “WE’RE GETTING MARRIED!”

June jumped and “WOOOO!!!!” before she ran inside to wake up and tell everyone. Gene and Judy both laughed. Gene pulled her back to him and cradled her face in his hand.

“I love you, more than you know.”

[mikewheelerr]

some wheelzier hcs i couldn’t stop thinking about today:

They’re both very insecure but in different ways. Richie is very self conscious and he’s always worried he’s really, truly, definitely annoying Mike.

Before they started dating Richie used to try every trick in the book to get his attention and get Mike to roll his eyes and huff at him, because Mike is adorable when he’s pouting or trying to stifle his laughter.

Richie always found it cute when Mike would so clearly bite the inside of his cheek as not to give Richie the satisfaction of knowing his terrible puns got him to laugh.

But once they’re dating, the last thing Richie wants is to drive Mike away.

That leads into some weird, stiff moments in which Mike worries he said something wrong to Richie. It makes Mike insecure, too.

Richie just grows quiet, and Mike tries to watch him from the side of his eye, looking for any indications that he’s mad at him. It’s not good for neither of them lol

Mike brings that up to Richie pretty fast, though, and he’s infinitely relieved his boyfriend isn’t ignoring what he says because he thinks Mike’s dumb.

He makes sure to let Richie know he doesn’t want him to hold back, because when he fell for Richie - hook, line and sinker, he fell for all of him.

If we’re talking sex, contrary to Richie, Mike doesn’t really get insecure about his body.

Mike, in literally every other setting, is very self conscious. But whenever they have sex, Richie takes up all of his attention.

Richie makes Mike feel safe and wanted and he just forgets all about his insecurities.

Maybe it’s because of how giving Mike is, too. He’s always paying so much attention to Richie and making Richie feel good is his only priority. He doesn’t have the time or focus to dwell too much on things lol and all the praise Richie gives him helps a whole lot too.

Richie can be insecure during sex, it depends on whether he’s had an off day or not, but watching Mike being so willing and wanting of him always makes him feel better too.

Mike is really weird with texting. Richie finds it amusing. Richie texts as many messages as he feels like sending, all in a row. They’re all instantly checked as ‘Seen’ but Mike takes a while to type back. Maybe it’s because Richie is so hyper, or because Mike is trying to decipher what Richie means through all the typos and random emojis that are supposed to mean words. Maybe both.

Mike is very devoted to whom he loves, and after so many things went wrong in the past, he worries about how far he can take it with Richie. Mike is painfully aware his clinginess is his downfall.

Mike likes contact, he likes kissing and cuddling and taking care of the people he loves. He’s always so stoked to know Richie likes to make out as much as he does.

But in the back of his mind, he can hear his friends’ voices nagging at him for always leaving them behind and only wanting to spend time with the person he’s dating. He’s too afraid things will follow the same pattern with Richie.

He holds back because of that sometimes. He won’t double text because of that.

Richie used to watch Mike’s bubble pop up on the screen after they’d said goodnight, only to disappear after a few seconds.

It would go like that for a good few minutes until Mike always settled on not saying anything.

When Mike is a little more confident he isn’t suffocating Richie, he starts to send a heart emoji whenever he thinks of him, and it makes Richie light up like a christmas tree to see the little chat bubble on his screen during random hours of the day.

When Mike finally opens up with Richie about that, Richie is quick to reassure him and give him all the love he deserves.

It’s unbelievable to Richie someone really wants to be around him that much and that often, and he makes sure to show Mike just how smitten about it he is.

Work makes it impossible for them to be attached at the hip as much as they’d both like to but they know that if they could, they would lmao

Mike worries about what their friends think but everyone is used to them. Everyone is always torn on whether they just gag at the amount of syrup Mike pours on his eggs during brunch or the sickening, dumbstruck loving look Richie directs at him whenever he does that.

Richie’s completely enamored by his boyfriend’s weird taste for food.

When Richie stares at him like that, Mike will look back at him, absentmindedly picking up a napkin and wiping at his mouth, asking a timid “What?” while looking up at Richie with his wide, doe brown eyes and Richie just melts for him. Every. Single. Time.

(Mike has a sweet tooth but Richie doesn’t really care for food that much. He never eats candy unless Mike wants to share his with him).

Richie has a bad habit of making self deprecating jokes and they always get Mike to look at him, and worry. He worries a lot about Richie and is very protective and loving of him.

They cuddle when they lie down to sleep and after they wake up, but during the night Mike sleeps stiff as a board on his side of the bed and Richie sprawls his limbs and takes up all the space he can get. It’s a good match, really.

[fenharel-babe]

@ma-serannas-vhenan

Update >:)):

And btw when I was doing the Orzammar part, I looked up who was the better king bc in the beginning of the Orzammar quests, I didn’t pay attention when they said who wanted to be king and what they did and such so,,I was very Worried™️ about choosing the wrong kiNG SO-

AAAAH DHWBDB. I LOVE WYNEE SO MUCH DJWNDB. She’s calling out Alistair for how he was staring at Rose and hOW HE WAS “enraptured” BY HER!! And it started when he asked her why she was smirking and Alistair said how he had a fat cat BUT STILL WYNEE CALLED HIM OUT AND THEN SAID “So what guidance did you find in her swaying hips?” OR SOMETHING LIKE THAT DNWNSWB. I love Wynne. I’m gonna load my save back up and see if it happens again bc I LOVE that XD.

WAIT I GOT ANOTHER ALISTAIR BEING AWKWARD!! He literally asked Leliana about her “female-ness” AND WHAT TO DO IF HE THINKS A WOMAN IS SPECIAL AND WANTS TO WOO HER!!! I’m gonna load this until there’s no more Alistair being romantically awkward talks lol.

AWWWW. ALISTAIR BELIEVING ITS OKAY TO BE WEAK SOMETIMES!!! He’s so precious,,I better be able to keep him or I’m gonna cry lol.

Wait a minute,,Did Wynne just say she was 15 20 years ago?? So she’s only 35?? I thought she was like 60 something sbabsb. Unless she’s joking and I just didn’t get it-

AAAH NOO!! I FOUND THE WEREWOLVES BIT WHEN YOU ATTACK THE WOLVES,,,THEY HOWL AND WHIMPER!!! This game breaks my heart with literally the smallest things😭.

IM CRYING HYDRA FNWB. I found this video on YouTube about the companions on Alistair romance and UGHHHH I LOVE THIISSSSS!!!

AAAAH!! ZEVRAN BEING ALL PERSONAL ABOUT THEIR INTIMACY DNWBD. I’m sorry for shouting I just love this djwbdb.

HYDRA!!! A WEREWOLF IS LIKE,,SPEAKING AND ITS A WOMAN NAMED ENYLA AND SHES SAYING HOW I NEED TO GO TO HER HUSBAND AND TELL HIM HOW SHES DEAD AND WITH THE GODS,,I love this game even if it makes me really sad😭.

This oak tree really just said, “Perahps a poets soul is in me... Does that make me a poet tree?” I LOVE YOU OAK TREE!! THANK YOU FOR PUNS!!

NO I HAD TO KILL THE HERMIT!! I wanted to get the acorn and leave him alone,,but I had to kill him or give him Enyla’s scarf and I’m nOT GONNA DO THAT BUT I HAD TO KILL HIM😭. But hey I saved the oak tree I think.

Oh,,so there was this camp and everyone fell asleep bc I kept looking at things and like,,suddenly everyone was DEAD and Wynee was the only one alive (surprisingly since she’s like,,60??) and liKE YO DJWBSB. Scared the crap out of me for a second but hey she survived :))). And I SWEAR WYNNE BETTER NOT DIE >:(((.

Wynne (I keep switching her name bc I forget how it’s spelled like EVERYDAY DHWBS) is just wanting to do her best with the spirit and how it gave her a second chance at life,,,and how if Rose seems to be leading off of her path, Wynne will come back (if she’s dead) and do the old finger wagging like mothers do😭. I love her,,,

OOP,,I FOUND WITHERFANG (I THINK??) AND HMM,,TIME TO SEE IF I CAN GET THE DALISH ON MY SIDE :)))).

Okay so it wasn’t Witherfang but now I’m about to enter the Lair of the Werewolves so he’s most likely here?? And why do I feel a bit bad for the werewolves since they’re just tryna be protected and Ik they’re supposed to be the bad guys buT HNNNG THEYRE JUST PROTECTING THEIR HOME (sorta??) LIKE THE DALISH ARE😭.

Anyways that’s all for tonight >:))). Love youuu( ˘ ³˘)💙. Getting DA 2 between October 15-19. Idk which day it’ll be here but hey I’m still getting it >:)))). Goodnight🥺.

[lostonehero]

Crawling the walls

Deceit sighed as he walked down the halls of the mindscape. Thomas was asleep to his knowledge, and so were the other sides. It's a shame he can't actually sleep, even Virgil can sleep, it bothered him. At least he can take off this snake make up now, his eyes are killing him."

What Deceit didn't notice was a logical side looking at him in confusion as he walked on the ceiling. But before Logan could say anything he was summoned and he appeared with a shocked look on his face.

.......

"Alright thanks for the help guys, so I guess its goodnight." Thomas said with a yawn.

"Wait wait I still have a question, why were you looking shocked Logan?" Roman interjected

Virgil looked over to Logan, because Roman was right in the beginning Logan was shocked so it had to be something in the mindscape. "It wasn't us so what did you see?"

Logan sighed. "Well I saw Deceit, but he was walking on the ceiling which is impossible because the mindscape follows basic laws of gravity and physics unless you're in the imagination."

"..... on the ceiling." Thomas repeated.

"Yes on the ceiling he was also picking st the scales on his face. I know you aren't that sleep deprived Thomas to make us see things especially me." Logan bolstered.

"Oh maybe he has suction cup boots." Patton chimed in.

"Patton that's ridiculous he obviously has weird snake sticking abilities." Roman argues.

" what if he's a spider, like web of lies." Virgil added.

"WHERE IS THE DEATH CREATURE?" Patton screeched when he heard spider.

"There is no spider Patton." Logan sighed.

"How about we just summon Deceit?" Thomas asked.

"Well it would end this useless bickering faster." Logan said dryly.

Deceit popped up without realizing it he is singing prince charmless holding up a mirror as he removes what appears to be snake makeup.

"SPIDER EYES!" Patton yells hiding behind Thomas.

Deceit flinches ripping off the rest of the makeup groaning. " that wasn't on with glue...... oh fu-"

"Language snake wait you were faking the snake face?" Roman blinks seeing Deceit open his four eyes on one side of his face.

"No I wasn't." Deceit mumbles looking away

"Obviously you were." Logan said objecting.

"Wait you're part spider?" Thomas asked.

"No I am not Thomas. I wasn't hiding it because nobody is afraid of spiders." Deceit was now looking down before he faded out.

"Wait Deceit I have questions." Logan faded out after him.

Virgil looks upset and torn on what he should do. "Patton are you ok?"

"Deceit was part spider..... I yelled at him though." He looks upset.

Roman has a twinkle in his eye as he fades put without a word.

Thomas begins to comfort Patton and Virgil.

......

There was a another gift by his door. Deceit unwrapped it to find a note saying the same thing again "sorry for what I said when I was scared." He was getting tired of this, he didn't need anyone's pity. Sure he was a spider not a snake that didn't make him any less good or bad. He was still Deceit he was still important.

The others still hate him no matter what he does. He didn't need any of their love. That was nothing but pity for him. He closed his door as he stepped out of his room. He was tired and needed to think. Like why was Patton even coming to this side of the mindscape there isn't anything here for him.

It's actually pretty empty, it was the border between the conscious and unconscious. It was Deceit's job to keep a balance between the two, which translated to doing a whole lot of nothing. Nothing ever happened because Thomas put grew his childish nightmare monsters, and he stopped lying about liking girls which causes a lot of issues. Now Deceit just had to make sure Thomas took care of himself and stayed alive.

Sure he can go around the imagination and have fun, but Roman has been on his case ever since he found out he was half spider, and then their was Virgil he kept poking around here now but never said anything. To be honest it was creeping him out.

"Uh-"

Deceit turned around and looked down to see Virgil again, and he was on the floor right he ended up on the ceiling again.

"Y-yeah hey Deceit I wanted to know" the anxious side gulped "ifyoucouldtalktolindamyspider." He was holding a spider in his palm.

Deceit sighed. "You don't realized Linda is not actually a boy."

Virgil blinks looking at his pet.

"Besides that you aren't taking great care of him and ge is totally not happy."

Virgil actually smiles softly "r-really I thought I was fucking everything up uh does he want a new name."

Deceit jumps down making Virgil squeak. "Yes Virgil."

The anxious side nods and fades out.

Deceit rolls his eyes continuing on his walk.

.......

The next one to bother the deceitful side was actually Patton. Deceit caught him with a cake heading to his room.

"What are you not doing?"

Patton screamed dropping the cake on the ground.

Deceit sighed heading inside his room to get things to clean it up.

"I'm so sorry kiddo you just scared me and all." Patton laughs nervously.

"You're lying Patton, you were hoping not to see me because you're still scared. Don't lie to me." Deceit hummed leaning on his doorframe not wanting to speak in opposites so he stayed in his room.

Patton looks away embarrassed and upset. "You're right but I'm trying to get better you haven't done anything wrong. I just need to get over this little phobia of mine so we can be a famILY."

Deceit quirked his only brow. " uh huh yeah I'm just going to clean this up."

Patton's snaps the mess away. "Don't worry about it Dee I can just poof it away. Maybe I'll make a Dee-liousus one later."

Deceit rolls his eyes. "I'm not telling you my name either."

Patton pouts but fades out.

......

Deceit was throwing away another pile of Patton's pun sweets, he hated anything sweet, but didn't have the heart to tell Patton no. Maybe he could ask for a spicy treat or something sour, or a steak. Now he was making himself hungry, or Thomas was hungry and he forget to eat again... it was one of the two.

This time Deceit was startled more like forcefully pulled into the light commons by Logic. He looked around clearly put off his senses. "What do you not want your summoning is wonderful."

"I see I haven't improved much I don't summon others often enough to improve on that skill." Logan answered.

Deceit sighed it was going to be one of these days where Logan sumonns him and asks about 1000 questions about himself. He really wasn't in the mood for this. "Look I really want to do this today."

"Then I'll do this quick what's your name?" Logan asked point blank.

Deceit snapped his fingers showing Patton." Terrible try Patton."

Patton looked upset. "How did you figure it out?.... wait oh I was lying. I guess you broke my web of lies."

Deceit runs his temples as he fades out. At least he wasn't afraid of him that much anymore.

.......

Ok Deceit would be lying if he said he didn't look foward to seeing one light on his side of the mindscape. Well lying was kind of his thing. Anyways it was Roman something about him made him happy. Maybe it was his admiration for spiders, or the way he talks, or the way he decides to have a "guys" night and he paints the tips of his spider legs, or well he could just go on. That man was going to be the death of him.

"Hey Deceit it's me Roman where are you hanging about." The price bellowed about making his presence known.

Deceit waved his hand from his room. "I'm in here my prince." And he immeditally coved his mouth with his hand. He was a fucking idiot.

Roman entered his room giving Deceit a big kiss. "Oh Dee you called me your prince."

Deceit's face was brushed with a red blush." Dorian.... uh that's my name."

Roman nearly dropped Dorian. "What oh my God that's your name. Dorian what a sweet name."

Dorian flips the scene and grabs Roman dripping him "I hope to hear you say it often."

It's Roman's turn to turn red as his sash.

[pingou7]

A car, two cops and a stardust — a RebelCaptain road trip fic

by @pingou7 pingou  for @thestarbirdfromtheashesStarbird

(aka the Road trip fic Diego Luna’s filmography made me write)

Read and enjoy, and please consider leaving me a few words.

Summary:

As the dusty roads criss under Kes Dameron’s old car, Cassian Andor lets the wind mess with his hair through the open window. Dust, sunshine, laughter, its easy to recapture the taste of days long gone.

(…)

At a gas station near Corpus Chirsti, when they climb back after taking a piss, both jump out of their skins as a random brunette, eyes thunderous, hisses dangerously from the backseat:

“Just pretend I’m not here.”

Update: Part 8 is published !

This part is dedicated to the ever kind @imsfire2 because she provided inspiration and support.

Read more on AO3 (or under the cut)

Part 8: Fresnillo, Zacatecas, Day 6.

Walking back, they both try to keep their eyes focused on the path, trying their best to ignore the shift occurring between them. Against her own volition however, several times Jyn catches his eyes slipping to the right, quickly taking a look at her.

She feels like a teenager and she’s sure that somewhere Saw is frowning at her, like that one time when he realized she had a hickey on her neck. She’d been what, fourteen? So far, her interactions with Cassian have been much more tame, but the fact that Kes chose to retreat back early left them unbalanced, in uncharted territory.

She knows Gerrera would be disappointed in her if he knew that she let herself have fun while on the run. Not only she has let herself enjoy the beat and Cassian’s hold, but his chuckle too and his arm still nesting under hers as he guides her back in the busy streets of Fresnillo. She should pry his arm away but she doesn’t want to.

At Saba's house, Kes has been waiting for them, or at least they still find him nursing his drink under the arbor. Their host is already snoring in his hammock and doesn’t stir at all. What an odd duck their friend is, not at all the kind of acquaintance she would picture the two cops to have!

She envies other people’s easiness, it’s been five days since she’d last seen Bodhi, since she has run out of her flat, and while she has slept, she had not rested since. She called Baze before dinner, but as it went straight to voicemail, she didn’t leave a message. No trace back to Mexico just in case.

Kes seems surprised to see them, his gaze plainly showing he had somehow expected Cassian and her to make a beeline for the closest bed. Truthfully, Jyn’s blood is quite heated still, but it’s a gentle warmth, not the scorching blaze his friend had lit earlier this evening. However tempting it would be to discover if Cassian’s prowess included more intimate activities than dancing, she could not permit it.

Come morning they would be back to a runaway and two cops traveling together due to unlikely circumstances. Nothing more. And okay they’re amazingly friendly but while she is willing to risk her safety, she will not yield to the supposed attraction she feels for Captain Andor. Nothing good will come of it, she can let it become enjoyable, perhaps, but never distracting.

“Jyn, won’t you take a seat?” Cassian asks right on point, likely realizing she has zoned out.

“Enjoy yourself, did you kids?” Kes taunts instead, wiggling his eyebrows before stretching in his own chair.

“At least we weren’t drinking alone, cabrón,” Cassian deflects by eyeing the clear content in his friend’s glass.

“Let me drown my loneliness in peace, I did you a favor. Plus, I miss my wife and son and puppy and Sab’s not a great distraction.”

“How much did you have already, you’re turning whiny Dameron.”

“Not much, I would not want to steal your thunder, Mr. I’m brooding unless I can demonstrate my sick moves,” he replies, smirking.

“And what poison exactly is into this glass?”

Despite her current curiosity, Jyn cannot prevent a smile from blooming on her lips at their usual banter ��� leave it to her to snatch a comedic duo... — but it does make her curious and she doesn’t wish for the night to end yet. She doesn’t doubt that tomorrow they will be back on their insane road trip so she focuses on mundane things and sweet summer nights while they last.

“Mezcal, you didn’t learn about it, through your wanderlust? It’s a liquor made from agave.”

“I don’t think I do, but I’ve heard the name before. It’s something like tequila?”

The Charolastras share a long glance across from her, clearly having a silent conversation or a private joke, then Kes cracks his knuckles, adopting ostensibly a teaching stance. For a second she’s amused by his antics again, as Cassian solemnly pours the clear liquid into two tiny bowls set on the table. Jyn guesses they’re not fooling around like she assumed when Kes states calmly:

“While more known — and thus exported — Tequila is actually only made from blue agave, it’s mostly for tourists.”

“Don’t be snotty Dameron, tequila is still good. One properly made, that is. But I find Mezcal more varied,” Cassian offers.

“Why, there’s different sorts?”

“Of course, around forty to fifty sorts, I think,” Kes frowns, clearly looking at his best mate for confirmation. “You know, it’s actually a refined process, not easy to make and to find. I don’t have the exact ratio but —“

“After a hard acquired harvest, it takes cutting, burning, pressing by feet and several distilling,” Cassian cuts in, “so it takes days — sometimes more than a week — before a single drop ends up in a bottle. Actually the ratio is around ten kg for a single liter of liquor. It’s like... the sweat of Mexico, more precisely it’s the tears of fire of this country.”

“You’re really passionate about it, guys, it’s weird to hear Cass waxing poetry, Kes-adillas I’d understand, but...”

All to their admiration for this Mexican drinkable piece of culture, they don’t pick up the nicknames, despite the little smile that lifts a corner of her mouth. She’s even more intrigued, Cassian can tell, because he pushes his tiny bowl in her direction:

“Have a taste, Jyn.”

“Hey, this is no girlie stuff, let’s get her cheap tequila instead.”

“Excuse me, Sergeant Dameron, but I can probably drink you both under the table and besides, I’m not one for girlie stuff, I told you before.”

Both nod and the clear liquid burns in her mouth, its aroma surprisingly rich and smoky. She sips slowly like Kes does in front of her and she understands how their patriotism can shine through this particular alcohol. It’s great.

“How do you know so much about it anyway? Has it always been your preferred drink?”

“That too,” Cassian answers after a few seconds, “but actually, my father was a producer. Nothing professional, but he made a few bottles for family and friends.”

“So you helped him? I guess that’s why you’re so precise then...”

She’s fishing for information with less discretion than she usually observes, because alcohol effects aside, anything that entails learning facts about Cassian is worth the shot — pun intended. For all their constant nagging about her being closed off, he for one isn’t as forward as Kes. Yet her remark strains his smile further and Dameron stares stubbornly at the table when his friend replies:

“I didn’t get to help him, just saw him about. I was too young then.”

Not missing a beat, Cassian murmurs, as if speaking to himself:

“And I’m too old now.”

She’s startled and even Kes is left agape when he gets up suddenly and bids them a hasty goodnight without even pausing to hear their answer. Not that they could have uttered a single word, that is. Once Cassian disappears, Jyn turns to Kes hoping to make sense of this unexpected behavior, but he just shrugs.

“What the heck happened? What did I do?”

“Don’t worry Jyn, it’s just Cassian being... rudo. It will be better in the morning. It’s not easy for him to go back to Mexico, I think it’s worse for him than for me. I focus on good memories, he gets assaulted by bad ones. It’s not your fault.”

Yet, guilt is marring his handsome features, his flat tone indicating that it is far from the first time Cassian pulled something like this and he couldn’t stop it. She too feels sheepish, though even without Dameron’s reassurance, she realizes she had done nothing wrong. Be as it may, trying to understand things better, she asks:

“I got my past laid bare already, can’t you explain what has gotten into him?”

“It’s not my story to tell. But you might know that we’ve been raised by Gina’s sister before getting to the US?” At her nod he adds: “I’ve been orphaned young too and it’s harsh, but Cassian, he was devastated. He’s still beating himself up over it twenty years later.”

If Jyn Erso understands anything about life, it’s that you’re always carrying your ghosts wherever you go. Some days, it’s a light comforting presence, but more often than not it’s an unavoidable burden.

“I didn’t show it before,” Jyn starts awkwardly, changing the subject, “but as far as cops go, you’ve both been great with me. I’m not easy to be around, but you took in everything like troopers and I gave very little in return.”

“Don’t sweat it, having you around is an unexpected happenstance, designed by our Lord above or destiny if you prefer to put it like that, yet I value your presence. You reach Cassian so you deserve everything we can lend you, because, even including tonight, you’re making him smile Jyn, up to his crinkling eyes.”

“You do too, Kes. Watching you is like witnessing a comedic duo, when you’re not bickering.”

“That’s because I’ve got a lifetime of getting under his skin, I mean, he’s my brother, has been since first grade.”

“So?”

“If you asked around about Captain Andor, people who work with him every day would say he’s dedicated, loyal to a fault, a perfect soldier. But not the kind of guy easy to please, nor overly friendly.”

“He told me he’s circumspect but I understand that, I’m not exactly a Disney princess ether.”

“Can’t fault you here,” Kes snorts good-naturally before adding in a quiet voice she almost doesn’t catch, “but maybe that’s why with you, he lets his guard down, he reaches out, and I see you meeting him halfway.”

An angel passes, Jyn’s heart hammering stupidly in her chest and it takes everything not to raise the bait. Instead, she manages to ask flippantly:

“Cop, singer, romantic poet, therapist, you’re a man of many talents, aren’t you Kes-adillas?”

“I must be, with you two. But still, consider what I said, and now I close this delightful chat, I feel my balls shriveling up already.”

“Can’t have that.”

“My wife would never overcome the loss,” he deadpans while she lets out a giggle.

His sense of humor is clearly devastating but his eyes remain kind and serious. He stands up, has a gesture as if to kiss her on the cheek, but she instinctively squares her shoulders and he opts for squeezing her arm instead.

“Sleep well, Stardust,” he whispers gently, retreating back to the house.

“You too, Kes, and... thanks.”

He smiles and goes in what she had surmised to be Sandro’s room. Nobody had dared waking him up though, so she supposes it’s free for Kes to take. Honestly this particular stop is really weird... she hopes the morning, ridiculously close now, will clear the air because she might need all her might for the rest of the trip.

She debates with herself before entering the other free room — their host had prepared his couch for one of them, after all. But Gina’s bag is in that room so she must disturb Cassian if only to use necessary stuff. A shower before going to sleep sounds heavenly indeed.

She knocks and he bids her to enter instantly. He doesn’t acknowledge her presence beyond that though. His tight expression hardens his whole face and she doesn’t need Kes to tell her that he’s unnecessarily brooding.

But she had this kind of outburst before, she’s no stranger to family issues and she owes Cassian more than anybody. So, copying how Bodhi acts whenever she’s in a funk, she lays down next to him, hands pillowing her head. He ignores her presence and this is just as well because she already has the retort ready even though he won’t like to hear it. When she wanted to be left alone a few days ago, he didn’t let her either. Payback is a bitch.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers finally, after twenty breaths — because yes, she keeps count, it gives her something to focus on.

“Don’t mention it Cassian, it happens to everyone.”

Well, not quite everyone, she amends when his lips strain into a bitter smile, but it happens to her on a regular basis. The unpredictable lashing out becomes encompassing and when it cools off, the unease it leaves in its wake is just as painful. No sense in beating a dead horse anyway, right?

“I just got frustrated, you know? And it boiled over. You got in the middle of this and it’s not fair to you.”

The use of the word frustrated irks her for some reason and as Cassian refuses to meet her gaze, it does nothing to abates her awkwardness. Contrary to what Kes had said, maybe she had her part in his outburst earlier. Dancing with him, having fun, flirting a bit... she shouldn’t have done that, music or not. But this side of Cassian was so magnetic she couldn’t resist the pull. She hadn’t wanted to, if she’s honest.

“I enjoyed the night, Jyn,” he says, echoing her thoughts. “I hope we can do it again sometime.”

“It felt great to leave the car, if anything.”

His eyes tighten and his lips expands a bit but he is not quite smiling. She’s somehow said the wrong thing, it sounded like a rebuke she didn’t mean, but further mumblings flee from her mind when his warm hand covers hers.

“I liked to dance with you, you’re not as bad as you seem to think. I’d want to try again,” he repeats, “if you’d let me.”

His tone is too earnest just to be speaking about dance, and she hopes the dimly lit room hides the blush blooming on her fair skin.

“You think you got me figured out then, Cassian?”

“Not quite yet. But I don’t mind so much, I can be patient.”

That she knows, somebody less tenacious would have given up by now. She doesn’t know what to make of his dedication, especially tonight.

“I should go shower and then to sleep,” she replies, “the couch is waiting for me and we’re still far from your destination, right?”

She’s never been to Mexico before and truly their map appeared quite nonsensical to her. Then again, she had quite a lot in mind when she had the opportunity to ponder on it. She hadn’t quite made up her mind to follow them all the way through then.

She wonders every morning if staying with them is the right course of action, but better the devil she knows... and, well, the Charolastras are really easy to be around, their presence are the perfect distraction. She’s even grown to like Dameron’s old mustang, she’s almost disappointed to know it won’t hit the road for much longer.

“We should reach Bernal tomorrow, but... I don’t mind if after preparing for sleep you come back here. I don’t want to chase you away.”

“I know, and you don’t, Cassian. But there’s a perfectly nice sleeping accommodation up for my taking, and... we should use this opportunity to gather our thoughts in private.”

She tried to be reassuring, to be tactful and nice, but he still nods dejectedly. Jyn should probably justify that he seems emotionally raw and she knows how mentally exhausted she is, not a good combo when sharing space, in sharing a bed all the more. But she doesn’t know how to word it without adding gasoline to the fire. Their easiness with bed sharing — not actually sleeping together except in the strictest sense of the word! — feels less and less platonic as days go on. She already can’t even explain how they’ve developed the habit, let alone how to halt it.

At a loss for words, she grabs her bag of things and breathes back a goodnight when Cassian whispers one, eyes even sadder.

It should not taste this bitter to Jyn. Surely it’s just the remnants of Mezcal on her tongue.

Yet, in the shower, curled up on the couch, she still feels his feather-light digits on her hips, and when she closes her eyes, it’s the earlier sight of his carefree smile that accompanies her to sleep.

[omness-yamarik]

Yakuza 13 Epilogue: Ephemer

Summary: Approximately 7 years after Xehanort’s death, Ephemer is acting up.

Word Count: 2250

    When Ephemer showed up on Sora’s doorstep with a duffel bag, Sora knew there was trouble. And that was even before the words “Hey Sora, I’m gonna be living with you now,” came out of the boy’s mouth.

    Sora knew Ephemer was a good kid. But he also knew that his younger brother had a mind of his own and did things his way, which often put him at odds with people. He was also driven by whims, and so could easily change his mind about things, which frustrated them. He had his issues, just like everybody, and currently, those traits were causing him to fight with his family more often.

    “Did your parents say you could?” Sora asked as Ephemer walked in.

    “Nah, but I don’t need them.”

    “Ephemer, unless you’ve gotten emancipated since the last time I saw you, you need their permission to stay here. Go home.”

    “Why? I don’t want to go! I want to stay with you, Sor. And I’ll be good! I’ll help clean the house and I’ll look after the kids and I got my license finally so I can go run errands if you need! Please, Sora, please? Please let me stay?”

    Internally, Sora crumbled. How could he say no to his little brother when he was begging like that? But he knew Roxas and Xion would be worried, and that Ephemer was probably just mad over something small. With Ephemer, he might not even be mad at his parents at all, and just wanted to be around Sora. He’d always been rather attached to his older brother.

    “If your parents say so, then fine.”

    “I told you, I don’t need their permission.”

    “And I told you, yes you do. Now either call them or get out.”

    “Can’t I at least stay for dinner?”

    “Does Xion know you won’t be home for it?”

    “But Kairi’s cooking is so much better!”

    “Does Xion know, Ephemer?”

    “No.”

    “Call them.”

    “Don’t wanna.”

    Sora sighed. This was a total stalemate. There was one trump card he could use though.

    “Alright fine, but just so you know, I’m also inviting Van and Ven over for dinner tonight.”

    “What?!” Ephemer and Vanitas had long since accepted the fact that they would never get along, and happily avoided each other as much as possible. On those rare occasions they were stuck in the same place, they both pretended the other didn’t exist. But it tended to get a lot harder when they were having dinner together, especially since if it was at Sora’s house, he tended to seat them next to each other.

    “It’s my house.”

    “Ugh. Fine. I can put up with Vanitas. But this means I get to live here, right?”

    “It means you can stay for dinner.”

    “Soooo-raaaaaaa!”

    “Why don’t you go upstairs and see if the kids want to play?”

    Ephemer huffed a sigh, then got a suspiciously innocent look in his eyes that Sora suspected meant that Ephemer was going to try and get Sora’s kids to help him with his plea. As soon as he was out of the room, Sora heaved a heavy sigh of his own, and went back outside to sit on the porch. He didn’t have to wait long.

    The last time Ephemer had run away like this, he’d heard Xion coming to pick him up and had made a break for it, giving them the runaround until Roxas reminded them all why he had been the captain of the thirteenth squad of the Yakuza 13 by hunting his son down and catching him. Therefore, Sora wasn’t surprised when Roxas came on foot.

    “How far away did you park?” he asked.

    “Only a block,” Roxas replied.

    “What happened this time?”

    “He told Xion he wanted to stop taking karate and she told him that was okay.”

    “Oh, Ephemer, Ephemer, Ephemer,” Sora said, shaking his head.

    “I really don’t know what to do. If we try to support him he gets upset, but if we push back he still gets upset.”

    “Well don’t ask me. You’re the one with the psychology degree.”

    “That doesn’t mean I can magically solve any and all behavioral problems, Sora,” Roxas sighed. “If it were that simple, I would have achieved world peace by now.”

    “I suppose,” Sora acknowledged.

    “So where is he?”

    “Upstairs with the kids. He’s staying for dinner. He also decided he’s going to live here, but I have an idea about how to deal with that.”

    “Which is?” Roxas raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

    Sora grinned. And while Sora had a wide variety of smiles of his own, this grin was 100% Vanitas.

    Ephemer was in a good mood. Sure, he was stuck next to Vanitas at the table, but he was gonna get to stay at Sora’s. It wasn’t that he didn’t like his parents: he did. They were pretty awesome overall, but they weren’t as cool as Sora. And it wasn’t that he hated his little brother: he didn’t. Mickey could be a pain in the butt with the way he was always following Ephemer around, hoping for some attention, but Ephemer was touched that Mickey looked up to him so much. But Sora had always been his favorite brother. And it wasn’t as if he loved Sora any more than the rest of his family: he just didn’t think it fair that he got to spend so much time with them but so little time with Sora.

    It was also nice to spend time with his nieces and nephews. Ephemer had really enjoyed drawing with Gula and Invi earlier, and he’d had fun watching little Aced’s reactions when Kairi had played peekaboo with him. He loved Sora’s family.

    It wasn’t like Ephemer was planning to stay forever. He’d go home when the school year started again, because having a license so that he could drive to school was useless when he didn’t have a car, and so he still needed to catch a ride from his mom.

    But throughout dinner, Ephemer kept noticing a few things that made him worry. Like how Sora kept rubbing his eyes. Maybe he was really tired from overwork? And cousin Ventus looked older somehow. Probably all that time he’d spent in veterinary school. And Vanitas was chiding Gula and Invi about their eating habits almost as much as Sora and Kairi. When had he gotten so responsible? Not to mention Vanitas’s latest choice for hair dye was back to his natural brown, which Ephemer couldn’t remember ever seeing before. It made him look unnervingly similar to Sora. But then, after dinner, now that was when things got REALLY weird.

Normally Vanitas had to be reminded not to get too smoochy with Ven, but tonight, there was just some mild cuddling. So mild it almost made Ephemer wonder if they’d broken up again, even though that was supposed to have been over years ago. Ephemer was about to ask about it when the doorbell rang, and Kairi let his dad in.

    Ephemer lowered his head, uncomfortable. Roxas was probably angry at him. He knew he was being troublesome. But he also knew that Uncle Terra had been pretty bad once, and Vanitas had been troublesome his whole life and Roxas had put up with that, so Ephemer didn’t think he was that bad or anything. He clenched his fist slightly, ready for an argument.

    “Alright Van, time to go,” Roxas said, and Ephemer blinked, confused. Why was his dad here for Vanitas? Unless…

    “Just a minute, babe,” Sora said. Why was Sora responding to a comment addressed to Vanitas?

    “Oh thank god,” Vanitas said with a sigh. “My eyes were starting to get really sore.”

    “Heh, nice pun. Sore Sor, eh?” Sora said. Only that was something Vanitas would say. Had they all switched on him? But that was impossible. “Though frankly, I outdid you, like always, since my eyes were watering all through dinner.”

    “Yeah? Well my eyes-”

    “Knock it off, you two,” the person Ephemer had been assuming was Ventus said.

    “Besides, you can’t complain when it was all your idea,” the person who might not be Sora added, getting in the last word.

    “Says the one who complained about high heels after coming up with the plan to crossdress that one time,” the other twin replied. “Speaking of which, after your failure to pass as a girl, I’m surprised you managed to make such a convincing me.”

    “You failed just as badly. Also, I am a very good actor. I even made a living as one for a while there, remember? Got scouted for movies but turned them down because I don’t need any nosy paparazzi hanging around. Not to mention the burden it would have put on all you guys.”

    “Bull. No way you got scouted.”

    “Did too.”

    “I thought I told you two to knock it off!” the person on the couch who might not be Ventus said.

    “Plus I really would like to hurry up and get home, Van. Nyan still hasn’t been fed,” the person at the door- Roxas? Ventus? Ephemer really didn’t know- said.

    “Alright, give me a minute, babe. I wanna go say goodnight to the kids,” Sora said, and stood up.

    Ephemer was very confused. His mind could not process what seemed to be going on.

    “By the way,” the person who might not be Ventus said, unwrapping his arm from around whichever of Ephemer’s brothers he’d been sitting with to lean forward and fold his hands. “I’m impressed. There were even a few moments when I forgot you two had switched, and I raised you.”

    That was it. Ephemer had had enough.

    “What is going on here?!” Ephemer exploded. “Are you-” he pointed to his dad and Ventus. “Which of you is my dad?”

    “I don’t know, Ephemer, which one do you think is Roxas?” Vanitas asked. Or was it Sora? He looked like Vanitas, and his expression was Vanitas’s, but he’d been talking like Sora earlier, and Ephemer’s head hurt.

    “Sora, give him a break,” the one in the doorway who he’d thought was his dad but now he thought was maybe Ventus said.

    “Alright, alright. As I said, I did want to remove these things anyway,” Vanitas said, then reached up to his eyes. After a long moment, he lowered his hands and lifted his face to show eyes that were slightly reddened but distinctly blue. “By the way, dad, I know we used to cuddle a lot when I was little but man it is weird cuddling with you as an adult.”

    “Wha- what- why?” Ephemer asked.

    “Because it’s fun to mess with you,” the person Ephemer had assumed was Sora said as he removed contacts of his own to reveal yellow eyes.

    “So this was all your idea then,” Ephemer snarled at Vanitas.

    “Nope,” Vanitas sang, smirking. “As much as I’d love to claim this bit of devious geniusness, this one was all my dear little bro’s.”

    “I’m pretty sure I’m the older twin,” Sora interrupted.

    “Well, whatever you were trying to do, it didn’t work, so-” Ephemer began.

    “Are you sure it didn’t work?” Roxas- Ephemer was now certain it must be his dad on the couch and Ventus at the door- asked. “You don’t even know what we were trying to do.”

    “It doesn’t matter what you were trying to do, because it didn’t work! I’m staying with Sora!” Ephemer yelled.

    “Yes, but if you stay, when you wake up tomorrow, how will you be sure the person sitting at the table is Sora and not Vanitas?” Roxas asked calmly.

    “And the next time your dad comes to collect you, how will you be certain it’s not me coming to pick up Van?” Ventus added.

    “I- I-” Ephemer stammered. How would he know? Before today, he would have been certain he’d be able to tell, but they’d had him completely fooled. Sure, he could always watch for romantic interactions, but he wouldn’t put it past them to up the ante on him. At the very least, he could definitely see Vanitas kissing Kairi to act the part. And Kairi deserved better than that. Plus it might make Sora feel insecure, and-

    “Alright, fine. You win,” Ephemer grumbled. He sighed and got up.

    “I’ll go get my stuff,” he said, unconsciously addressing the person at the door.

    “Are you really sure you want to come home with me and Van?” Ventus asked, raising his eyebrows.

    “Do it,” Roxas said with a grin.

    “Ugh, please no,” Vanitas complained.

    Ephemer didn’t stick around for any more of that. Blushing scarlet, he rushed up to grab his duffel and say goodbye to his nephews and niece. He almost collided with Vanitas who was going to do the same as he careered down the stairs, but luckily he was able to dodge before he caught any cooties.

    Roxas and Ventus were both at the door, keys in hand, when he returned.

    “Okay, not funny,” Ephemer said.

    “It is to us,” one of them said.

    “I actually wasn’t trying to be mean. Sorry, Ephemer,” the other said. “Let’s go home.”

    Ephemer sighed. They had him completely. He didn’t want to inconvenience everyone like this. He just wanted time with his brother.

    “Fine. But you’re gonna be the one to tell mom I’ll keep on practicing karate.”

    “You can tell her yourself, or else Sora’s not gonna have you start babysitting for him.”

    Babysitting for Sora? Things were looking up. He did have to go home, but maybe there was a small victory to be had for Ephemer after all.

[acupfullofsuga]

Soft Bias Tag!

I was tagged by the lovely @namj00nsweetie! Thank you lovely this is adorable!!

1. Who’s my bias?

A to the G to the U to the STD!! Min Suga aka Min Yoongi, genius.

2. What made you notice them?

I was really introduced to BTS through a series of pictures of all the boys. My friend told me to pick who I like the most out of all the pictures, I think 6 of 7 I picked Yoongi (one was Jimin lolol). So I guess his smile and just his cute face first attracted me and then just how he is outspoken yet so passionate and silly and caring and yeah. I’m going to stop here before I start rambling.

3. What’s your favorite thing about them?

Physically: his smile and face overall. Like anytime that boy smiles he just, makes me smile.

Personality: uhh I have to say how he is so passionate about his music and the way he silently cares about his members.

But literally I love everything about that man. Him and all his faults.

4. Who would initiate skinship more?

Honestly probably me, I have a need for attention like Jimin, even if it’s just me silently being in the same room as him. But I would often want to hold his hand, his arm, or just fucking cuddle and watch Netflix. In these situations I would be giving him little kisses like all the time.

5. Who would hog the blankets more?

ME. I have done it so many times, I doubt the loml won’t fall victim to my blanket stealing ways. sorry Yoongles, I love you~

6. Who would be more clingy?

Probably me, my need for love and attention is strong even if it’s a simple text or just being in the same room. I will need some for of his presence and existence in some way shape or form otherwise to me it won’t feel as if we are dating. I had a boyfriend who RARELY texted, never again.

7. Who would say I love you first?. Who easily be more flustered?

I honestly am not sure about this one. I would probably be to nervous to say I love you as I would be afraid of saying it to soon. Then we have Yoongi who isnt a huge talker. But I feel I would accidentally just say it randomly while like half asleep or something while saying goodbye. like we are face timing while he’s on tour and I’m falling asleep in bed and just say “goodnight yoongs, I love you” and then I’m asleep. And probs yoongi would get more flustered cause I would compliment him ALL the time. But then again I get flustered but I don’t think as easily as him.  

9. What cuddling position would you two have?

We would probably be the cuddle king and queen. cuddles and netflix and movies and snacking wrapped up in a blanket, side by side or with me in his lap. But to bed it would probably be spooning and I think we would switch being the big and little spoon. like I have a body pillow that i love to use but on some nights I’m like no I don’t want you.

10. Which colors remind you of him?

BLACK, obviously. mint green cause mint haired Yoongi is a god send. Dark/navy blue and lately yellow. he should wear more yellow pls.

11. What season would you like to spend with them?

Winter. we both hate the cold and would take the excuse in stride to just stay in and cuddle on the couch or bed and just enjoy each others company. But also just any season. Summer would be good, Yoongi in shorts is A+ although I feel like he owns like 3 pairs. Bby show off them legs!

12. Who would bake the cookies and who would steal the batter?

I would bake the cookies and then offer him the batter, maybe even swiping some onto his nose and a food fight may or may not ensue. 

13. Which one of you would make bad puns and how would the other react?

I would make the puns and Yoongi would give me THE look. you guys all know what look I’m talking about. I would just smile at him and say “oh you love me”

14. Who would want to adopt 50 cats and dogs?

ME. We would probably have like 3 dogs, a cat and some other animal. maybe a chinchilla or a hamster or bunny. And Yoongi would complain every time that our home is basically a petting zoo. He may or may not end up giving in though. 

15. Which one of you would nearly burn the kitchen down trying to microwave a pop tart and who would come to the rescue?

I honestly don’t think either of us would end up nearly burning the house down. I’ve never done anything of the sort and I doubt Yoongi has either.

16. Who likes to lean over trail railings and who pulls them back?

I don’t typically but once in a while I will lean over to look down or something. I bet Yoongi would pull me back with a straight face and say something like “I don’t want to see my girlfriend tumble down a mountain to her death thanks” his eyes looking at the view but quickly will glance to me.

17. What would watching a horror movie with them be like?

It wouldn’t happen unless we were in a group setting. Yoongi doesn’t like horror movies and honestly neither do I thank you very much. We would end up watching a comedy or something instead. The closest we would get to a horror movie is Train to Busan. Thats a good movie and it had me jumping slightly every so often at the jump scares and yelling at the scream. Yoongi would either join me or tell me to calm down and hug me close to him.

18. Who would be the cheesy flirt and who would be the smooth flirt?

I feel like I would be the cheesy flirt and Yoongs would be more of the smooth flirt. I would probably send him random cheesy pick up lines at random times too.

19. Who would be more competitive?

Depends on what we are doing. If we are playing games like in run then I think we would be equally as competitive. But if it’s just general stuff maybe me, I can get a tad competitive with friends... sometimes.

20. Who would have to be given constant reminders (to eat, sleep, drink water, etc.)

Me. We all know Yoongi. It would be me texting and calling him to get out of his chair take a break, maybe go for a small walk. go eat something, take a nap etc.

21. Who sends memes and who sends cute “i miss you” texts at 3 am?

I’m the random memes at 3 am and Yoongi would be the cute I miss you’s while hes stuck in the studio working. We cute, I know. I would also respond to his I miss you’s with those heart memes.

This was adorable and fun to do!! So now I tag @your-kpopmama @justanotherkpopblog  @minsiee @moonseff @ik-jams @a-r-m-y-g-i-r-l @pandalovesplushs have fun with this! I can’t wait to read yours!

[rooibosfie]

hello yes mmmm all of them for uri n em??

Holy heck anon here we go

1. Who likes to jump into the other person’s arms?Emrys, probably because if Uri ever did that he’d have to get rid of a corpse.

2. Who likes to take artsy photos of them together?Idk about Emrys here, but I’ll say it’s him because Uri wouldn’t really take pictures unless they’re doing something special like a trip, in that case he probably would while nobody’s looking.

3. Who makes puns with numerous things that they find?EMRYS. And Uri never knows if he wants to die immediately or kiss him so he’ll stop.

4. What do they like to watch together after a long day?Uri would l ove to get super invested in a cop show, but Emrys would have to watch out for constant outbursts of JESUS CHRIST HOW IS JUSTICE SO BAD IN THIS. WHY CAN’T THEY DO THINGS PROPERLY I’M GOING TO DIE.

5. Who is most likely to kiss the other on the cheek?Emrys in public, Uri at home.

6. Who is more likely to break out in a spontaneous dance?Considering you wouldn’t catch Uri dancing e v e r unless it’s a formal occasion or his partner asked to, I’d say Emrys.

7. Who would hide in the couch to try and playfully scare their partner?I’d say Emrys but Uri would probably attempt and proceed to regret it the rest of the day because he just feels bad and also revenge would be inevitable.

8. Who would sing a love song to the other in the car?Honestly?? Uri absolutely would if it’s just them. He has a better voice than you’d think!!

9. Who can’t help but giggle when the other compliments them?Uri just blushes like a madman and doesn’t reply, so more likely Emrys.

10. What do they say to one another before they go to sleep?Uri would be su c h a sucker for late night chats, so he’d probably ask about Em’s day and just smile while he tells him before kissing him goodnight and telling him he loves him.

11. What would they do/go if they were to have a weekend just to themselves? For example - small getaway, stay home and watch movies, go to an event, ECT.If Uri’s planning, he’d love to go out somewhere meaningful to him or to Em and watch the sunset together like the dork he is. That, and probably end up slow dancing alone at home after that.

12. Who looks at the other person like they are their world when the other isn’t looking?URI. ALL THE WAY.

13. If they were to have matching pyjamas, what would they be?

Ok first of all it’s spelled pajamas @whoever made this, and second does both naked count because Uri is used to hella hot weather and doesn’t really care for the concept of clothes designed for sleeping when he could just wear nothing instead.

14. Who would win in a pillow fight?Uri also probably would win a pillow fight if he tried, but more likely he’d let Em win like the dork he is.

15. Who prepares/orders takeout for the other person just because they know how much their partner loves it?Emrys doing this melts my heart so I’ll go w him even though Uri can whip up some nice dishes!!

[danfanciesphil]

omg i missed prompts evening IF U STILL WANT ONE THEN i am dying for a dan pov version of his bday when phil is flirting with adam and then cat turns up and then phil falling asleep beside him thank

true fame is when u get anons requesting fanfiction of your own fanfic lmfao

BLESS YOU AND ALL OF YOUR WORLDLY POSSESSIONS FOR THIS PROMPT ILYSM

Context: For this to make any sense you need to have read chapter 5 of my fic Birthday Sex

Got a prompt for me? Click here! (Please be aware that due to an abundance of prompts, your prompt may take a few days to complete - but thank you all for submitting so far!)

This is the worst one yet. 

Their birthdays, whilst exciting, are typically turbulent in nature nowadays. Dan can never quite predict what will happen each time, or how bad the aftermath will be.

He swallows, one hand still clasped in between both of Phil’s, their heads on the same pillow. 

This is, by far, the worst it’s been since they began this whole mad affair, and it isn’t even morning yet. The fallout of this birthday - Dan’s 22nd - is likely to be catastrophic. No pun intended. 

He shuts his eyes against this thought, not wanting to think about the girl lying on the other side of this wall, oblivious and sound asleep. Ignorant of the terrible thing Dan has just done. 

It started out okay, this time. Phil’s twenty-sixth back in January had aged them both in a way their accumulating birthdays have failed to do thus far. Phil had been so angry. Dan had been so stupid, so blind, to think that he wouldn’t be. 

But they’d apologised and moved on, trying to forget the whole thing, and Dan had foolishly believed that this time, it would be better. That it would be a happier event. They have their safeword now, and their rules have expanded. 

What could go wrong?

It turns out, a lot can go wrong, and rather quickly. It just seemed to spiral out of control. Dan had kicked off the party with high spirits, laughing and joking about with his close friends. 

He’d forgotten about the monster inside of him. He hasn’t seen it in a while, after all. It had hidden itself deep in the cavern of Dan’s insecurity a few years back, keeping quiet whilst Dan insisted he didn’t care about Phil, about romance, about anything. 

Honestly, Dan thought the monster may have died of starvation. He wasn’t exactly keeping it well-fed. Besides, it never showed its face when guys flirted with Cat, which they did - do - often. Dan just doesn’t care. She’d never do anything with anyone else anyway, he knows, but it’s not even really about that. 

He just doesn’t mind it the way he used to. 

The monster doesn’t bother him in situations involving her. Not like it used to do, when people would try and steal Phil’s attention. 

He should’ve known. He should’ve forseen it. He should have realised that the jealousy-monster wasn’t dead. It was dormant. And it was starving. 

It doesn’t make sense, even to him, that he hung Adam of all people out to dry. 

Adam was here, staying in this flat, for three months last autumn, and the idea of him eyeing up Phil barely even crossed Dan’s mind. 

Well... perhaps the thought may have struck him occasionally. Usually when he watched the two of them talk like old friends, the way they are perfectly entitled to do - because they are old friends. 

Phil shifts in his slumber, sighing. Dan holds his breath, praying Phil doesn’t wake up again. He can still see the tear tracks on Phil’s cheeks, illuminated by the light of the moon streaming in through the window. 

Poor Adam, Dan thinks, guilt washing over his body. He didn’t have a clue what he was getting himself into tonight. None of it was deserved. It’s Dan who has created this horror show. He and Phil, really. Nobody else should be forced to be a part of it. 

That’s not even the worst part, though. 

Sure, Phil had been angry about the Adam thing. Of course he was. It was absurd, wild, crazy behaviour that Dan exhibited tonight. He could even see how insane it was as he was doing it. He could feel the monster choking him with its long claws, coiling itself around each of his limbs, wrapping itself around his tongue until it walked for him, spoke for him, shouted for him, acted for him. 

Dan - the sane, intelligent Dan - was locked at the back of his mind, hammering on the bars of the cage in which the monster had sealed him, pleading with it to stop, to be rational, to just think. 

But despite all of this, Phil had been prepared to forgive him. Dan had said terrible things to him all night long. He’d accused Phil of actively attempting to hurt him. He’d blamed Phil for the arguing, for the pain, for all the negative emotions attached to their broken relationship, and he’d taken it all without complaint. 

After Dan had said those unspeakable, unfair things to Adam, Phil had walked right into his room, as calm as ever, and told him it was all okay. Dan had screamed and hit him, he’d wanted to choke Phil for dangling Adam in front of him so cruelly, despite the hypocrisy of it. 

And Phil had just kissed him, gentle and slow. 

It had been torturous, because it was so, so exactly what Dan needed. How could he possibly have known? How can he be so in tune with Dan’s emotions that he sees right through the barricades, straight into Dan’s soul? 

In a more perfect world - maybe a world where Dan’s karmic retribution was a little more positive - the night might have ended here. He and Phil might have made love, passionately, desperately, indulging in one another the way they’re supposed to on these nights, releasing their pent-up angst into each other’s bodies, until they get the opportunity to do it again in six months time. 

And then Cat arrived. 

If you asked Dan what heartbreak looked like, he’d say the look on Phil’s face when he said goodnight earlier. The way his eyes dragged over the sight of Dan’s arm draped across her shoulder. The clench of his fist as he walked out the door, struggling to keep himself together until he was alone. 

He can’t imagine anything crueller than what he’s done to Phil this evening. He is a wicked, selfish brat. He loathes himself for it. He hates every cell of his stupid, weak body for being so predictably terrible. 

And he knows, he knows, that he’ll do it again. 

He’ll keep doing it until Phil can’t anymore. Until he’s too broken apart to fix himself. Dan will take and take and take, because giving is much too hard. He doesn’t know how anymore. There are massive, gaping holes inside of him, stretching across the islands of what little emotion he has left. 

Phil has so much warmth. He fills Dan’s gaps. He smooths Dan’s edges. He makes him feel whole. 

Dan felt it tonight, as Phil slipped inside of him. He felt it as Phil poured the love over him, warm and thick, like magma, crawling under Dan’s skin and flooding his empty, cavernous body. 

Phil cried, but that’s nothing new. Dan cried too, but later. After Phil fell asleep. 

He’s going to have to leave this bed soon, Dan thinks, despising his own thoughts. Cat might be a little ditzy, but she’s not completely stupid. She’ll notice if he’s not there, beside her, when the sun finally emerges over the horizon, putting this day to rest at last. 

Dan pulls his hand from Phil’s gently, eyes fixed on him, watching for any tremor of movement. Nothing comes, luckily. He swallows, looking down at his palm, reddened from where Phil has clasped it so tightly. 

He slips out of the bed, forcing himself not to look back. 

Cat is asleep, thankfully, when he crawls in beside her. He’s naked, of course, still, but he can pretend it was intentional. He’ll have sex with her tomorrow, in the morning, as she wakes, and then she won’t see anything amiss. 

Phil will wake up alone, next door, when this happens. The walls are thin, and there’s no way Cat will know to be quiet unless Dan tells her. The indent of Dan’s head will still be pressed into Phil’s pillow as he moves over Cat’s body right next door. 

Phil will roll away from it, from the smell of Dan still lingering in the sheets. He will stare out of his window, watching the morning glimmer into existence. 

And he will listen, Dan knows. 

[lvgot-themesave]

*Chest: Toys. Smothered in dust. *Drawers: Filled with trash. Dusty, too. Is this whole place abandoned or something? You take a broken red crayon just in case you need it, and a small notepad.

ACQUIRED CRAYON: * Red, snapped in half. ...Hey, wait, didn't they stop making these back in the 19th century? Well, that answers one question.

(Use crayon later for fight. Chara is drawing. Froggit approaches, Chara drops crayon, afraid the Froggit perceives it as a weapon, and asks for MERCY. Froggit nudges crayon back over – wants to see them draw. Chara draws until the crayon is rendered useless. YOU WON! I earned 0xp and 5 gold. Chara is noticably more calm after this encounter.)

*Bed: Nothing. *Closets: Filled with kids clothes. Too small to wear at all, so I leave them. *Drawer #2: Empty. A photo frame lays on top. It's broken, and scratched with claw marks. * BEDROOM: CLEARED.

ANON: ACT: EXIT HALLWAY.

The house is noticably much cleaner. *CHARA loots the living room. Finds nothing but gardening books and pillows/blankets. *Kitchen is looted. *Where are my knives. *Chara finds their weapons on top of the fridge. Their food and goodies earned have been placed in the fridge, untouched by Asgore (noticeably.) They load them into their inventory one by one.

INVENTORY:

1.     Crayon + Notepad

2.     Anon's Pie

3.     Tea

4.     Eyepatch

5.     Tacos

6.     I try to take the paper flake out of my inventory, but it won't work...?

7.     Rectangle

EQUIPPED FLOWERCROWN (DF) and KNIFE (ATK.) ATK: 2 DF: .1

(Flowercrown is destroyed later, but narrowly saves Chara's life. They are thankful for the flowercrown, and vow to return the gift to @defectedanddetermined somehow.)

*KITCHEN AND LIVING ROOM LOOTED.

ANON: Now that you've got your goods, let's leave. Asgore might come back.

CHARA LEAVES THE HOUSE.

Chara is bewildered by the save star, but saves again and is relieved to find their HP has increased to the max (humans are harder to heal with monster magic.) Chara hides their knife as to avoid confrontation unless needed. Chara goes down, and to the right to the FIRE BAKE SALE. Chara buys a fire cookie as a joke, but finds it really tasty. Flame's say it's for a good cause. Chara plans to snoop for more money around the ruins (NOT STEALING FROM ASGORE,) and then come back for more. The fire monsters are pleased. Cheerful, the fires give her a bonus cookie.

INVENTORY GET: Fire cookie. *You’d think it'd be spicy, but it's not.

Chara goes to the left and bumps into Happstablook.

Chara gives Happstablook their cookie, and probably makes a dumb fire pun. (Possibly Happsta not liking his ghost body? Chara thinks he means ghost weight or whatever, and jokes that the cookie can burn calories. Cookie is star shaped?) Happstablook begins to cry. Happstablook wanted to be a star, but couldn't bear to show their face to their cousin again and stayed in the ruins. Happstablook is inspired. Chara suggests a nice way to show how much of a star he is is to go donate money for the flames in need, and how it will increase their rep. Happsta gives Chara 50 G to give to the flames, and a kiss on the forehead. Chara is momentarily starstruck, but wins 50G and 0xp.

SIDE EFFECTS: POISON: LOVESTRUCK. * I wonder if they sell flowers down here... roses, right? He seems like a classy guy. Or, wait, maybe -

Chara goes back and gives all 50g to the flames. They are astounded, but inform the child they already got their bonus cookie and have to pay if they want another one. Chara is fine with that, their stomach is starting to burn. They go up from the fire room and see the toy knife – it's less effective than their knife, and made of plastic. Chara tosses it over the edge so no one else can use it.

Chara solves the button puzzles. Make this a montage. Chara is excited when they think it's going to be hard, but reads the 'push the red button' sign with dismay. They solve the rest of the puzzle clearly frusturated. 'At least it didn't waste my time.'

Chara explored blank looking room (pitfall.) Door is unlocked, but Chara assumes it’s a puzzle. Turns around to look, but falls. Finds ribbon. Places in inventory.

RIBBON: (whatever, how much df is it?) DF! If you’re cuter…

INVENTORY:

1.     Crayon + Notepad

2.     Anon's Pie

3.     Tea

4.     Eyepatch

5.     Tacos

6.     I try to take the paper flake out of my inventory, but it won't work...?

7.     Rectangle

8.     Ribbon

This thought makes Chara upset, shadowy-faced. Lightly activates rest of traps, finally finds lever. Pulls it, leaves. Unnerved by carrot monster, but tells it how to leave (from above) just in case it is stuck. Chara moves on once they confirm the monster is safe. Chara realizes after this that all the puzzles are unlocked/ unfinished, and they can continue without fail.

Whimsum attacks! Chara tries to smile, but scares the whimsum off. Chara lost no HP, but they did lose their self-esteem. Carries on, sadly.

Chara enters pillar room. Receives mercy speech. IS FILLED WITH DETERMINATION. Begins to sympathize with monsters, wonders if Asgore is really all that bad. Continues on regardless.

Rock puzzle, ta-dah! Chara is kind of wide-eyed at this event, and stutters out their requests. Pats the rock, awkwardly, at the end. The rock requests to not be patronized, and that it is far older than them. Chara apologizes to the ‘sir,’ and leaves with a blank expression. After they leave, they have a BSOD and realize they referred to a rock as an upperclassman. (Possibly begins to doubt if any of this is real?)

Does the stupid steppy-leaf puzzle. Chara is annoyed that they were lured into a false sense of security, that they believed ALL the puzzles were disabled, but is also excited to have a challenge. After this room, Chara nervously does the other rock puzzle, but finds it is inanimate. Confused, Chara heads on. Chara finishes these puzzles even if they might not be done because 1) they want a challenge and 2) the room looks nicer when it’s in order. Chara heads to the leaf room / candy room. Chara realizes they’re back where they began. Sighs, relaxes in leaves. Begins to draw to calm themselves down (anime, probably) Froggit attacks, and destroys flowercrown. Chara panics, and loses HP. Chara places the crayon and drawing down, and begs for MERCY. The froggit is wary, but is interested in the drawing. Carefully, rolls crayon back over. The froggit watches Chara draw for a short time. The froggit draws a small bit as well.

LOST ITEM: CRAYON + NOTEPAD. It’s been worn down to the nub, and the latter is completely covered in scribbles.

Chara takes one candy. They, however, equip the ribbon, as they have no defense, now. Chara’s stomach growls. They decide to eat the tacos, as it will rot first. Chara is informed monster food does not expire by a helpful, very-not-me anon. Knowing this, they put the taco aside and eat the pie. It’s yummy, and Chara’s not hungry anymore.

INVENTORY

1.     Tea

2.     Eyepatch

3.     Tacos

4.     Rectangle/Paper

5.     Candy

6.     Clothes

7.     (empty; chara throws toy knife/stick away.)

Chara decides to go back to the flame monsters, because they speak English and seem to know all about the ruins. On the way, Chara bumps into Asgore. Asgore is scared if the child is hurt. Depending on if we insert random attacks in here, they will or will not be. Regardless, Asgore says he was scared for the child. Chara puts their hand in their pocket (knife,) and asks Asgore what he wants. Asgore is confused, and slightly wary. He mentions he didn’t get much time to explain the situation, and asks Chara to come inside. Chara threatens Asgore, but follows. They want their own clothes back. Asgore offers tea. Chara switches the cups – if it’s not drugged, Asgore will drink the other mug. Asgore seems nervous, and Chara thinks they’ve won. However, Asgore drinks the cup in whole. Smiling as he sets the cup down, he says that Chara is an odd child. Chara is quiet, and takes a sip of Asgore’s (now their) tea. It’s nice, and warm. Chara quiets, and Asgore begins to speak.

CHARA: …I still don’t know what you want. ASGORE: It’s quite alright, child. I should have been more careful and explanatory… but, oh, I was so excited. Forgive me, it’s been a long while since any monsters have seen a human. CHARA: What are you, exactly? takes careful sip of tea. ASGORE: Oh! Well, we are monsters. Or, we have been dubbed as such. Truthfully, we are just… creatures. Once, we inhabited the surface of this world much like humanity. However, we were forced underground by humankind many, many years ago. CHARA: ...We’re kind of in a similar situation, then. ASGORE: …? How so? CHARA: **Shakes head.** Can you escape? ASGORE: …Well, yes, but it… will cost us a great sacrifice. CHARA: … ASGORE: sips tea CHARA: sips tea

ASGORE: This also means, child… you will not be able to leave the underground. CHARA: (* I’m not too upset about it.) CHARA: Okay. ASGORE: …You have a strong demeanor, young one. I admire you. CHARA: CHARA IS SILENT. Thanks.

…

CHARA: I met some other monsters, out there. ASGORE: Oh, I hope they were kind… Mad Dummy is merely an emotional specimen. He cares rather aggressively, is all… I spoke to him, regardless. CHARA: It’s okay.

…

(This dialogue can be edited, remember it is made to be intentionally offputting and awkward.)

…

ASGORE: Well, little one, you must be tired. (Nervous, awkward demeanor.) CHARA: Oh, yeah. I’m about ready to faint over here. (WHY DID I SAY THAT.) Ehehe. (STOP DOING THE ANIME LAUGH YOU TRASH BAG.) ASGORE: Do you remember which room is yours? CHARA: Yes, I do. Thank you. Goodnight, Mr. Dreemurr.

Chara quietly, somberly, walks to their room. On their way, they look at the room under renovations sign. Dramatically, Chara stares, then wanders to their room. Chara, depending on what’s more dramatic, cries themselves to sleep OR starts to cry, but stops themselves, forecfully smiles, and goes to bed.

PANEL ONE: Chara is comfortable in bed. PANEL TWO: Chara’s face twists. PANEL THREE: Chara covers their face with their hands, shaking / crying.

---

Chara wakes up, goes to living room, finds breakfast. Sick from hunger, give in and eats one bite. It’s delicious! Asgore remarks as Chara looks at the food, drooling, that he forgot their milk. Asgore comes back with a fresh glass to find Chara has eaten everything. Chara, embarrassed, apologizes. Asgore smiles, remembering how hungry and thin the child was, and offers them seconds. Chara reluctantly accepts, and eats slower this time.

Asgore shows, via montage, probably, Chara the bugs and books and all that Radical Stuff. Asgore accidentally brings up the outside world, once, and Chara is excited to meet new, non-human beings – they’ve learned by this point monsters are made of compassion and magic, and are thrilled to have survived the fall, because now they are free from humanity but they’ve found a world of magic and all that jazz.

Chara continues to bring the topic up, and Asgore excuses himself. Chara follows, curious. (At this point, a few days have passed, btw.)

Asgore is Very Good at ignoring things that make him uncomfortable, and continues silently. Chara asks what is going on, legitimately scared and nervous their ‘perfect world’ might not be. Asgore explains, and Chara visibly deflates.

FIGHT!

Asgore accidentally kill Chara, and they LOAD. Chara, brief and graceful as always, vomits into a plant pot. At this point, it is only mentioned Chara is suddenly filled with DETERMINATION after visibly having an epiphany. They realize that the reason they survived the fall was because they have to do something here – that’s why they can’t die. Chara gathers the food they can, and heads down to the basement. Chara, maybe after a fight / death montage, beats him finally. Note that Chara’s knife consistently stays in their back pocket, and remains unused.

Dramatic speech.

Chara explains their thought process, and why they think they survived a hundred feet drop. Asgore is wary, but hugs the child and gives them a kiss on the forehead, saying he is very proud of his child, and how they’ve grown in such little time. Chara hugs back, and refers to Asgore as ‘Dad’ and mentions they will be back soon. Asgore begins to weep, and Chara gets teary eyed. Chara hugs him one last time and heads out to the hallway.

Temmie teases Chara, mentioning how pathetic they are to die to someone so weak. Chara frowns. They don’t fear death, now. They can feel they still have work to do. Knowing this, Chara tells Temmie that they’re going to SAVE them, too. Temmie is stunned, but begins to laugh, and tells Chara their stupid kill or be killed line. They disappear. Chara, once he has left, asks Frisk if they have something do to with all this, and that they’ve been awfully quiet. Frisk nods, a little sober from the Asgore fight, and Chara feels the amounts of pride and hope Frisk is filled with, directed at them. Chara smiles, and takes Frisk’s hand. They walk forward. Scene fades to white.

ASKSWAPCHARA: RUINS (CH1): END.

[missladybugandkittynoir]

Near the Top of the Eiffel Tower

MY FIRST MIRACULOUS FANFICTION YAY

Marinette slipped into her room through the trap door on her balcony and detransformed with a heavy sigh. She had just finished fighting a particularly difficult akuma and she still had to do her math homework.

           “I’m beat Tikki,” she groaned as she flopped onto her pink polka dotted bedspread. “Do you think I can just wake up early to do my homework?”

           “We both know that won’t happen Marinette,” Tikki said sympathetically.

           “Ugh you’re right. And I can’t afford not to do it,” She reluctantly sat up and rummaged around in her book bag; pulling out a pink notebook and her Algebra textbook.  “That fight was grueling. I’m glad Chat Noir was there. Never tell him I said this but I actually think his stupid jokes makes fighting easier sometimes.” She laughed. “I will never understand how he always has the energy to joke around. But I don’t know what I’d do if he was sour and grumpy. He’s just a nice person to be around actually. I bet he has loads of friends in real life even if his is annoying.”

           Tikki laughed. “You sound conflicted.”

           “What do you mean?”

           “Well one moment you’re saying how nice he is to be around and the next you say he’s annoying.”

           Marinette shrugged as she opened her textbook. “I have conflicting emotions about him I guess. He really is a nice person. Remember when I first became Ladybug and I was having doubts about myself? He really was there for me. And I should give him credit for how he lets me take charge and trusts me. I can’t imagine him being mean to anyone and he is really easy-going. But ugh…I can’t deal with his cockiness sometimes. He’s so over the top and full of himself. Remember when he was flexing in front of me as Marinette? Like really?”

           “Hmm…I’m glad he is the way he is. It’s refreshing,” Tikki sighed.

           “What is?”

           “Well most of the time Chat Noir is kind of grumpy. It usually goes with the territory of the miraculous. It has made it hard to work with them in the past.”

           “Really?” Marinette looked up from her homework in surprise. “What do you mean the territory?”

           “The black cat miraculous can only go to someone who has already had an unlucky lot in life and wants to be someone different. Otherwise it wouldn’t be fair to give someone a miraculous that causes bad luck. They tend to be very unhappy people and therefore rather unpleasant.”

           “The black cat miraculous causes bad luck?” Marinette’s eyes widened. “I guess it only makes sense when mine gives me good luck. I never thought about it before. Is that why he gets hit so much more often than me? Well, other than the times he takes the hit for me I mean.”

           Tikki nodded. “Yes, unfortunately.”

           “Wait! There’s no way Chat Noir is an unhappy person! You see how he acts!”

           “I’ve probably said too much. You need to get to know him on your own.” Tikki sighed.

           “No please tell me!”  

           “Well, I’ve talked to Plagg. That’s Chat Noir’s kwami. We can meet in our dreams so I don’t know who his carrier is. But he told me that this Chat Noir is a master at covering up his emotions. Plagg is worried about him that’s for sure. Although Plagg isn’t exactly helpful to his carriers but I can tell he cares. He assured me that this Chat Noir at his heart is a very kind-hearted person. But he definitely has some issues.”

           “You don’t think Chat Noir’s light-hearted personality is all an act do you?”

           Tikki shrugged. “It’s hard to say. Humans are very complicated. I’m sure it’s not all fake. But it might be compensation for something in his life.”

           “Hmmm…” Marinette was distressed by this idea. She cared about her silly partner and it never occurred to her that he might not be happy. But she thought about how often she had seen him vaulting across the rooftops when there wasn’t an akuma. Maybe he really didn’t enjoy being himself. She after all rarely transformed into Ladybug when there wasn’t an akuma. “I’ll have to pay more attention to him.” She decided. “He’s always there for me. It’s the least I can do.”

           “That’s a good idea. But remember that you can’t just fix people Marinette. Don’t be too disappointed if you can’t get past his walls.”

           “I know.” Marinette turned back to her homework. Although now Algebra was the last thing on her mind. Maybe the best time to catch Chat Noir off guard would be when he was running around at night. She had never spoken to him when he was doing that and he wouldn’t be prepared to act a certain way if he wasn’t suspecting her.

             Marinette saw him sooner than she thought she would. There hadn’t been an akuma the next day thank goodness. Yet that night she saw him. She looked outside her window and there he was; staring at her parent’s bakery from the roof of the building across the street. In his eyes was a certain longing and she swore she caught a glimpse of sadness. It was strange to see that look in eyes that were usually so playful. He caught her eye and flinched as if startled before fleeing in the opposite direction.

           “Tikki Spots On!” She exclaimed before climbing onto her balcony. She would have to be careful. If she chased him he would know that she came from the direction of the bakery. Sighing, she took a roundabout route and enjoyed swinging through the air while hoping she would catch a glimpse of him. Where would he go? The Eiffel Tower maybe? She swung in that direction and sure enough there he was; sitting gloomily on one the monument’s platforms. He didn’t see her approach as she landed on the platform.

           “Fancy meeting you here, Kitty,” She said. He jumped before turning to her with his playful grin.

           “Nice to see you M’lady!” He stood up quickly. “There’s not an akuma is there?”

           “No I was just enjoying the night.”

           “Really? I don’t usually see you out as Ladybug for fun.”

           “I don’t do it often. Do you?” She asked, knowingly.

           “Whenever I can. The night sure is purrfect isn’t it?” He tossed her a sideways grin.

           “Ugh, can you go a minute without a pun?” She groaned.

           “Depends on how I’m feline. But I’m feline that tonight is purrfect fur puns.” His eyes were sparkling.

           Marinette sighed. He was quick to smile and joke around but she had seen the expression that he had before he saw her. That expression was one of loneliness.

           “So you come out here a lot? Doesn’t it get lonely?”

           His eyes widened a bit before relaxing. “How could I be lonely with you here M’lady?” He bowed.

           “You know what I mean. You said you come out whenever you can.”

           “Well…don’t you enjoy time to yourself?” He faltered a bit. “Not that I want you to go of course.”

           “Yes. But doesn’t your family wonder where you are if you go out as much as you do?”

           He visibly flinched; his smile falling before he quickly covered it up. “They don’t notice.”

           “Chat Noir are you okay?” She decided to bluntly ask.

           “I’m feline clawsome.”

           “Really Kitty? I can tell something’s wrong.”

            Chat sighed. “It’s nothing worth bothering you about M’lady.” He sat down dejectedly; dangling his feet over the ledge and leaning against the bars.

           “Chat Noir.” She sat down and placed a hand on his shoulder. “We’re partners. If something’s wrong you should be able to tell me.”

           “I thought you wanted to keep our personal lives private.”

           “Okay yes. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be there for each other. Just don’t reveal your identity.”

           He shut his eyes. “I don’t know how.”

           “What do you mean?”

           “I never come to anyone with my problems. At home I..I”

           “At home what?”

           “I have to be perfect all the time.”

           “What! That’s nonsense. No one’s perfect,” Marinette exclaimed. Maybe he really was compensating as Chat Noir.

           “Well I have to pretend to be. My father only speaks to me when I’ve done something wrong. I feel like…” His voice hitched.

           “I see,” She whispered.

           “You know Marinette?”

            “Yes,” She replied, startled. “I asked you to protect her before.”

            “Yeah well, I’m jealous of Marinette.”

           “What? Why?”

           “Her family. They are so warm. I mean they live in a bakery after all.” He chuckled. “You can tell that her family loves her.”

           “Do you not think your family loves you?”

           “I wonder sometimes. My house is…cold.” He stopped.

           “So you’re lonely?”

           “Yeah,” He said quietly. His eyes widened. “Sorry for rambling! It’s not important. Just forget I said anything.”

           “Stop it.” She squeezed his shoulder. “You’re important. I want to be there for you. I had no idea that you were struggling so much.”

           “I’m fine!”

           “No you aren’t. Come on Kitty. I don’t want you to have to pretend. Not around me. Do you know how many times I have seen you fall on your face.” She smiled.

           “Thank you, M’lady.” He blushed; looking away.

           “Of course. You know maybe we should do this more often.”

           “Really?” He swung his head to her in surprise.

           “Yeah, it just occurred to me that while our secret identities are important there is no reason we can’t be friends. We have to work together after all.  Why don’t we meet here tomorrow at 10:00 pm? Unless there’s an akuma attack of course.”

           “I’d like that.” He smiled.

           “It’s a plan then.” She stood up. “Well I have to go to bed now Kitty. You be safe ok?”

           “Ok.” He stared up at her in awe for a moment before snapping out of it. He stood up. “I hope you have a safe journey home M’lady. Parting is such sweet sorrow!”

           Marinette laughed. “You’re full of it do you know that?”

           “I have no idea what you could possibly mean!” He exclaimed, placing his clawed hand to his chest in mock surprise.

           “Goodnight Kitty.” She smiled before she swung off; happy that she finally got to know a little bit more about her partner.      

��R

[silver-haired-76-blog]

Zip me 👀

Write a drabble about your character dressing mine, undressing mine 

It was times like these that Jack actually thanked the other priests for allowing him a place to himself.

It was common for most to stay within the walls of the church which–although gave him better sleeping habits was barely private. That, and he didn’t like living like he was in the middle ages. Their order may have been around that long but it didn’t mean he needed to lack a modern day bathroom and kitchen.

“Honestly, Jack, I don’t know how you manage to get any sleep in someplace so–Unholy I suppose.” A priest, Charles, who insisted on walking with him home after a particularly nasty hunt. But Jack knew why he was there–he was suspicious. The man was always suspicious. Kids playing in the park are suspicious to him.

“I would hardly call an upscale apartment in downtown unholy.” He speaks bluntly–as per usual. He had to shove his coat in his bag to avoid sideways glances. He could probably manage to fool people into thinking the demon blood was black paint but–he really didn’t have the energy. And Charles didn’t like lying. It was sin after all.

“Its full of humans, Jack–well, those who aren’t like us.”

“We walk the world normally, if we scrutinized every drug deal, murder and salacious affair with that waitress that winked at you we wouldn’t be getting any sleep.” He looks at him blankly, “I think the good Lord above would have smited me by now if being out of the church was that horrible.”

Charles scowls, “You’re isolating yourself.”

“I have company.”

This comes as a surprise to him, “Who is that?”

He gives him another side eye, “Private.”

“Jack–”

“Private. By the Light.” He steps from the elevator, Charles decided to follow until they get to Jack’s door.

“How do you know this is safe?”

The Hunter was clear to show his irritation, but raises a hand and shows a web of pattern around his doorway. Only they could see it, “I spent forever on this, it’ll keep demons from slitting my throat alright?” Before the other priest could speak again he waves a hand, “Goodnight.” 

At least he took the hint, bowing to him lightly, “Be safe, Jack.” He leaves back to the elevator.

The Hunter watches him until the elevator door closes, snapping once the rune dissipates with little effort. The amount of time he spent drawing the symbols to do that was quite literally ungodly. It was better than redrawing it every time through.

He enters, barely shutting having shut the door when a short wind brushes by him. He rolls his eyes, dropping the bag down as black smoke shifts past his legs and culminates on the couch, “You could have waited maybe an hour.”

“You act as if your schedule means anything to me.” Gabriel appears from the smoke, taking up most of his couch. He was dressed less formally than last time, and smaller horns were curled in his hair. He tilts his head to look about home with slight interest, “You don’t have a bad place here, priest.”

“I’m pretty sure you’ve been here before. Demon.” He pulls the blood covered jacket from the the bag and tosses it in the closet where the laundry is, “You’ve definitely watched me sleep. At least once.”

“You’re very restless too. I like how your muscles tense up when you’re having a nightmare,” He gives him his usual sharp grin, “I never appreciated how nice it was. A bit too many crosses though.” 

Jack glances at several hanging from the walls, “I’m not taking all of them down for you, its for priests that decide I need inspect. Its not like the hurt you.”

“Not at all. But its not good to lie, that’s a sin, you know.”

He says nothing, moving to him and leaning close only to flick one of the buttons on his shirt, “I’m taking a shower.”

Another grin, “Is that an invitation?”

“Maybe.” he drags him up, “Since you decided to come early.”

The demon lets himself get dragged, chuckling soft, “You had a rough night didn’t you?” 

“What makes you think that.” The tile is cool when he steps on it, dragging off Gabriel’s jacket, pressing lips light on his jaw as he undoes the buttons, “One of those dragon looking demons was killing women in the north district. Didn’t like me too much.”

“Well you seemed to get out without any more pretty scars, I hope you didn’t kill Johnson, he was my favorite” Jack could hear him grinning, his own shirt pulled off with a brief movement before they kiss again. He tasted like smoke and ash, the bitterness was something he’d gotten fond of.

“They all screech the same things. Didn’t exactly have pleasantries before he was trying to burn me to death.” He pulls away, the shower turned on.

“I’m sure they said they’d use your head as a chandelier and your legs as contemporary art.” 

“No, actually it was the classic ‘steal my soul’ deal. After the maiming bits.” He grabs him by the belt, dragging him over under the water. The kisses grew longer, biting.

The demon scoffs, slipping a hand under the waist of his pants, “That’s my soul they are threatening.”

“Its actually mine.” 

Gabriel smiles wider, his forehead against his, the water was scorching, “You say that like you won’t give it to me.”

“I won’t. We’ve been through this.” He breathes out, “Unless you want to steal it from my maimed body.”

Rolling eyes, “Well I’ll have to if you want to be stubborn about it.”

“No. My soul.” It was mockingly patronizing, pushing him against the tile, kissing under the debating growl that comes from throat. He didn’t mind that sound. 

He feels the demon’s hand drag up his side, clawing it. It stung, only briefly. The sting moved up his back. The stinging stops, he stopped scratching, there was softer fingers lingering between his shoulders.

Jack stops tasting his mouth a moment, chuckling short, “Didn’t know you were so gentle.”

“Mm.” It was a hum, like some kind of realization, his voice different, “There is a first time for everything--wanna here one?”

Jack huffs out a breath, “What is it?”

His grin is back, the rose gold of his eyes bright, “I’ve never fucked an Angel before.”

For once the nonsense Gabriel says on a daily basis actually makes his brow furrow, the shower sounding louder, “What are you talking about?”

“I can feel it--it’s disgusting,” He chuckles, “But also far too interesting...haven’t seen one on Earth in a long time but--now it makes sense why you haven’t died slowly--”

“You--” Jack sets a hand on his shoulder, looking at him carefully, “...You’re being serious.”

“What you thought it was a clever pun? Of course I’m being serious.” He breathes out, smiling wider, “I’ve never seen wings pop out of an Angel--oh I hear its worse pain than half the things I do in a day--”

“Gabriel.” His voice is sharp, “Stop fucking with me. I’m not an Angel.”

The demon watches him a moment, smile not faltering, “...You can believe what you want for now. I’ll be sure to be here when everything gets a bit different for you.”

Jack couldn’t tell what that meant, the scorching water felt colder on his back. He feels Gabriel’s hands take his, guiding them to waist of his pants that were soaked now, speaking soft in his ear.

“You want to finish what we were doing, angel?”